The next morning, Sharlen awoke at six o'clock and dressed. She'd worn a black tank top and plaid flannel pajama pants to bed and quickly stripped them off, dressing in her Hogwarts uniform as quietly as possible so as not to wake the other girls. She shared a room with Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Rachel Marino, and Stacey Davis. So far she had yet to meet any of them, but she'd heard of Pansy from Draco. She was his girlfriend, supposedly. She shook her head, thinking of the kiss he'd given her the night before, as she fell back onto her four-poster in an attempt to straighten her gray knee socks.
She gave a frustrated sigh and paused a minute. She remembered the last time she'd tried these on; her father had wanted her to model her school clothes for him. She reluctantly did, knowing he would laugh, knowing he would be cruel. He'd made her turn, he'd made her walk to the door and back in their small home, and Snape had just sat back and watched. After all, what could he have done, really? She was Voldemort's sole creation, his daughter. She had no mother and so, belonging to only him, she could only do as he told her.
He'd been absent for most of her life, and now that he'd returned to it the past two years, she missed the days when she was alone with Snape. Those lonely years, so much of them spent in utter silence, were so preferred to Voldemort's presence in her life. A shadow that wished her nothing but harm, that wished her to cause nothing but harm. But he had finally permitted her to attend Hogwarts. The reason why was still unknown to her.
Before leaving, Sharlen quickly turned to grab her little black book, but to her surprise she saw another girl sitting cross-legged on her bed, flipping through it. "You have a vivid imagination," the girl mused, flipping another page. "It's so full, god, how long have you had this…?"
"Don't read that! No!" Sharlen quickly reached out to snatch it back but she accidentally brushed her hand against the girl's. She recoiled, bending almost double and closing her eyes tightly, blocking her ears. "No!" she cried out again. She saw the girl kneeling by a grave, no older than 14 by the looks of it, tears rolling down her cheeks as she placed a wire cage before it. The name on the gravestone was James Davis. The date told her he had been only 13 when he died.
Sharlen straightened up, breathing hard and staring at the girl she now realized must be Stacey. The girl's eyes were wide and she had dropped the black book beside her, half way through reaching for Sharlen as though unsure if she should have touched her or not. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, sitting on her knees.
"Was he your brother?" Sharlen asked. Stacey cocked her head to one side with overly-innocent curiosity.
"My brother?"
"The boy who died a few years ago. James."
Stacey smiled, a few teeth showing. "Yep. He was my twin brother. But, how did you know…?"
"Lucky guess," she muttered, snatching the book and exiting the dorm.
"Hey, it's too early, you can sleep longer if you want…!"
"I'll be back," Sharlen muttered, closing the door behind her.
Who did that girl think she was, going through her stuff? She shook her head and tucked the book into the waist of her skirt and set off out of Slytherin Common Room and toward Snape's office.
Snape was an early riser by nature, so she knew he'd be awake by then. She rapped her knuckles against the black wood door and listened. "Who is it?" he muttered from within.
"It's me," she answered. "Let me in."
"Don't have much choice now do I…" he sounded agitated, far away.
Sharlen slowly opened the door and looked in. "Master Severus?..." She didn't often call him that anymore, not even at home; she'd taken to calling him just plain old Snape around the house when her father had returned. "Master Severus?" she called again.
"What is it Sharlen?" he asked, coming around the corner suddenly. He glanced her up and down. "What the hell are you wearing?"
"The Hogwarts uniform," she muttered, annoyed.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Must you make things difficult?"
"Save it."
"Don't talk that way with me, Sharlen," he warned coldly. "I'm still your guardian, your Head of House, and your professor." She didn't respond, feeling a speech coming on.
"Look, I went through a lot to fool Dumbledore into letting you attend here. It was harder getting him to trust you now that your father is back in power. The least you can do is buy into this little scam as you were trained. Don't act so ungrateful."
"I'm surprised anyone would buy that you would want to become the guardian of a student," she hissed, looking him up and down as well. "Then again with your reputation you probably put yourself in quite a fix, seeing as said student is the spawn of Voldemort…"
"What do you want?" he asked hurriedly, more gently so as to coax her not to say her father's name again.
"To fly to classes and have permission to skip meals in the Great Hall."
"Out of the question," he muttered instantly. He went back to shuffling parchment and moving around bottles of potions and ingredients.
"Why?"
"Use your common sense, you wretched girl," he hissed, turning back to face her. "You are the daughter of the Dark Lord. All the staff knows it and, despite what Dumbledore thinks or says, they'll all be keeping an eye on you. Lupin is reluctant to leave the two of us alone as it is, just imagine how suspicious they'll become if you start avoiding meals and flying around the school as an animal."
His aura burned a dark, dark gray and faded to brown. He was stressed. Rattled. "We're trying to hide your parental origin from your fellow students. You must be inconspicuous you stupid, stupid girl." He considered her a moment, as if sizing her up. "It would be ideal if you would keep your head down and pretend you were no one to anyone."
Sharlen stood slowly, her eyes narrowed to fit her normal frown. She knew how to handle Snape. "Oh yes, and me fainting from emotional overloads in the middle of breakfast or break isn't conspicuous, not at all."
Snape sat there baring his teeth at her in a snarl for a few moments before turning from her once again. "I'll alert the other teachers of your needs," he muttered as a dismissal. Sharlen smirked slightly, peeled off a twinkling star sticker, and stuck it to his desk before departing.
"There's a good man…" Sharlen muttered to no one as she made her way back to the Slytherin Common Room. She was only a few doors away when she ran into Lupin coming down the hall. He looked surprised to see her up so early.
"Miss Down, fancy seeing you at this hour," he mumbled as he tried to stop a yawn. "Are you having any trouble adjusting to the castle?"
"I actually got more sleep than I needed last night."
Lupin stared at her a moment longer and then shook his head. "I'll believe it. So, why are you out and about so early, then? It really is much too early for you to be wandering around."
Sharlen tried a smile. "Wreaking havoc and cursing early-rising staff members." Lupin blinked and she walked past him, clutching her book and looking at the ground. She heard him walk off in the direction she had come, probably to get some potion from Snape. What would they have done if he'd overheard their conversation…?
She pushed the thought out of her mind—that was Snape's problem. Now all she had to worry about, what with her requests answered and taken care of, was finding him and helping him.
Stacey Davis was waiting for her when she returned to the dorm. "Oh, there you are," she exclaimed as Sharlen closed the door behind her. "I was worried about you!"
Sharlen narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why?"
"Oh, I dunno, it's just you only enrolled yesterday and it's a big castle and all and you don't know anyone and you seemed to be in a lot of pain when you left and I wanted to apologi-"
Sharlen closed her eyes just as pillow flew up and hit the girl in the head to shut her up. "Take a breath, damn."
"I'm sorry, I tend to talk fast…" She shrugged to show that she really hadn't known she'd been doing it. "Hey, wait a minute, how did you…?"
"Wordless levitation spell," Sharlen muttered simply. "You know, Wingardium Leviosa."
"Oh wow!" Stacey bounced up on her bed and followed Sharlen as she crossed the room to her corner. "That's amazing! You mean you can already do magic wordlessly? God, that's excellent, can you do more spells like that? I've been asking around for a while and we're scheduled to start learning how to cast spells without saying a word this year and-" Sharlen glared at her. "I'm sorry. I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"Actually, the only way I can cast spells is through my mind," she answered softly. "I can do any wand spell you can, it's just that I've never been able to handle a wand. I haven't had any control over any wand I've ever tried." She turned away as though to close the discussion, but Stacey exploded.
"OH MY GOD, HOW COOL IS THAT?" she exclaimed. Sharlen jumped away, eyes wide and bracing herself, not expecting the outburst. She glanced over at the other three girls and noticed that they were all wearing earmuffs that read 'Property of Professor Sprout' on them. They didn't even flinch in their sleep, obviously used to living with Stacey by their sixth year.
"Shut up, will you?" Sharlen hissed. "You're going to wake up the whole tower!"
Stacey covered her mouth to emphasize her apology. "I'm really, really sorry," she mumbled through her hands. Her aura glowed bright orange with an overabundance of energy, not the same orange of the girls she'd met the previous night. "I get a little eccentric sometimes."
"A little?" Sharlen asked, quiet enough so she couldn't hear.
"Anyway, that really is something. You're already ahead of our whole year then I'll bet, even Hermione Granger!" Stacey smiled cutely, brimming with a friendly pink aura, the orange melting into a brilliant emerald—a healer, a love-centered person. "I was just waiting up for you so I could apologize for reading your diary. I just got a little overly curious, I'm so sorry."
It took a minute for her to figure out what she meant by diary. Sharlen was about to scold her for that, but decided she didn't care enough to. No damage had been done, after all. She nodded and turned to leave the room again.
"Wait, I've been meaning to ask you, too…" Sharlen turned back to the girl, the light blue of confusion swirling in her pink aura, although the emerald told her she was still in a tranquil state. "I wanted to ask how you knew… how you knew about my brother."
Sharlen sat back down on her bed and prepared her answer. "Have you ever heard of a sixth sense? In Divination?" Stacey nodded.
"That's like, sensing ghosts and stuff, right?"
"Don't talk, just listen." Stacey nodded. "I possess a version of the sixth sense. If I touch someone, skin to skin, I can see visions of their pasts or their futures. These visions don't have to be significant in any way, or mean anything at all. I don't know why I saw you at your brother's grave; maybe it will be important someday or something, but when I tried to get my book back our hands touched and that's just what I saw. But, for what it's worth I could have also seen you brushing your teeth or eating breakfast or something."
"Or dying."
Sharlen shook her head quickly, taken aback. "Where did that come from?"
"You can see and predict deaths, right? If you can see futures…?"
Sharlen shook her head slowly. "I've only ever foreseen one death." This was true of the visions—since her father came back around, she had seen an exorbitant amount of people killed.
"That must be awful, knowing someone's about to die…"
"I've actually read more deaths than I've seen in visions, though seeing them in person is much different." Sharlen heard the words fall out of her mouth as though she couldn't stop them. Afterward she felt nervous sweat prickle at her hairline. She had zero social skills, but she was sure that wasn't something you should tell a stranger you just met.
Stacey stared. "What do you mean you read them? And I can't imagine how horrible that must be! Wait, I'm sorry, that was nosy… wow…"
Sharlen looked out the window. No, she couldn't imagine. She shouldn't have said anything. She had said too much. "By reading them I meant tarot," she explained briefly, standing again. Stacey watched her closely, but Sharlen said no more.
"Hold up and we'll catch an early breakfast, okay?" Stacey seemed so insistent, so excited by the idea that she was positively beaming. And the pale blue was gone; she wasn't going to badger her any further about her powers. "Just lemme get dressed…" Stacey rushed around putting on her uniform.
"Why do you have Slytherin pajamas?" Sharlen asked absently, staring at the pile on the floor after she'd stripped.
"Oh, you like?" she squealed, struggling with her knee socks. "I made them myself! Here, check it out…" She reached for her wand on the bedside table and sang a spell Sharlen had never heard before. Then again, the way it had been sung had made it indistinguishable, anyway. The serpents on the Slytherin emblems, printed all over the gray flannels, began to wiggle and slither as though dancing. Stacey squealed with delight again and finished dancing. She grabbed her book bag—patched with mismatched pieces of quilt fabric—and the two left the dorm together. Stacey left the pajamas wiggling. "They tickle something terrible," she laughed.
"How did you end up in Slytherin?" Sharlen asked softly, watching her apply a glob of lip gloss.
Stacey grinned at her and said, "I asked to be in Slytherin! The Sorting Hat suggested, more over urged, that I go to Hufflepuff, but I insisted on being a Slytherin."
"Why?"
"Because I love snakes! And my entire family's in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat thought harder about it and said either house would suit me in the end." Sharlen looked away, already feeling drained from her cheerfulness. A dark blue ring surrounded the outer edges of her figure, something she'd noticed had been there from the beginning; she was playful by nature. But how she'd been pursuing Sharlen showed some amount of ambition, too.
"But… don't you get, I don't know… bullied?" Sharlen asked quietly. "Slytherins are known to be pretty mean, I've heard. I can't really see how you've managed all these years."
Stacey beamed. "Malfoy and his gang give our year a bad rep, no doubt about it, but there's more inter-house mingling here at Hogwarts than you may know. Most of my best friends here are in Ravenclaw. Granted," she said with a laugh, "our ambition takes over pretty strongly when it comes to the House Cup, I'll admit."
Sharlen turned to stare at the ground, considering this. She had let preconceived notions form in her mind in her anticipation of joining the school. Reading as much as she could about coming here, it seemed, may not have prepared her for the cultural nuances as much as she hoped.
"Damn this thing," Stacey half-laughed, struggling with her tie. She'd tried to tighten it a little and had ended up almost strangling herself in those three seconds Sharlen had taken her eyes off her. Sharlen gave a turn of her wrist down at her side and patiently tied it with her mind, not even glancing at the girl as they walked. "Thanks a lot," Stacey gasped.
"Not a problem."
Lupin walked past them, coming from the direction of the dungeons. He smiled and waved at them as he passed, but inside he was furious. His aura was the same charcoal shade Snape's had been earlier. "What's got him so mad…?" Sharlen wondered aloud, yet to herself. Stacey's ears pricked up.
"What's that? He looked pretty cheerful…" she muttered, watching him walk back toward the general direction of his office. Sharlen shook her head slightly.
"No. His aura was a really dark gravel color... more brown than gray. The darker gray and brown shades mean anger and stress. The lighter hues mean peace of mind and calm, as do dark greens. All colors have two meanings, not unlike the reverse of tarot cards. Depending on intensity and color, the feelings and emotions portrayed by the colors could be positive or negative."
"WHOA…" Stacey gasped, widening her eyes at Sharlen and staring. "You can see peoples' auras too?!"
Sharlen sighed, exhaling slowly, trying to remain patient. Should she be holding more of herself back? Was she being naive, explaining anything about herself at all? She'd never really discussed this with anyone else before, and found it difficult to stop once she'd started. Only he knew about these pieces of her experience, save for Snape. Somehow, though, she knew Stacey wouldn't leave it alone. And somehow, she didn't mind; Stacey seemed genuinely harmless. If she was honest with herself, it was interesting to talk about herself, to have someone who wanted to listen.
They sat down at Slytherin table to find that it wasn't too early after all; there were quite a few students already down there and even more filtering in slowly. The staff, or most of them, was already there; Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout for that matter. How long had they been talking in the dormitory? How long had she been in Snape's office? Surely those two conversations hadn't been much more than an hour… Sharlen shrugged it off and explained over Stacey's breakfast all about auras. She was still too anxious to eat, but she did occasionally sip from a hip flask she kept inside the waist of her skirt, almost nervously as the hall continued to fill. Mostly her eyes roamed all around the Great Hall, taking in every detail she could as she answered Stacey's questions. How had it been made? Who dreamt up the design of it?
"Well, what's mine look like?" Stacey prodded about her own aura, her eyes alight with curiosity and excitement. The entire school had shown up by then for breakfast. "I've heard auras can consist of several colors, like one main color tinged by another color and the colors represent emotion. Is mine red and orange, like a flame? Blue and white like a crashing wave? What're my colors?"
"They're called bands of color, and you actually remind me of a watermelon." Sharlen closed her eyes and took a sip from her hip flask, swishing the drink around in her mouth before swallowing. It was a potion Snape had been making for her for as long as she could remember. She wasn't completely sure what it was or what it contained, but if she went too long without drinking some of it, she began to lose consciousness.
Stacey's eyes widened and her face turned horrified. "Why would you say such a thing?!" she exclaimed, frantically looking down at herself. She pulled at the skin of her taught stomach. "What, like I'm round or something?"
For whatever reason, Sharlen actually laughed at that. Snape blanched up at the staff table; he'd been watching her like a hawk the entire time he'd been there, since he hadn't expected to see her at all. He saw her laughing, covering her mouth as though trying to hide it, and nearly choked on his tea. In all the years he'd raised her, he had never seen her laugh before.
Lupin stared a little as well, but then he smiled. "Looks like she's found a friend," he mused. Snape's astonishment melted into a frown.
Sharlen explained to Stacey that her main color, which was actually her second band, was pink for compassion and love, and potentially clairaudience. Stacey explained that she was actually capable in Divination, so that made sense to her. Her tingeing color, her accent, her third band was dark green, which demonstrated her calm and tranquil nature. She informed her that she was rimmed physically with a thin shade of blue to show her jubilance, her euphoric persona. Stacey laughed at her mistake. Sharlen just smiled absently at her empty plate.
She wasn't allowed to make friends. When her father had ordered Snape to enroll her at Hogwarts at last she'd been warned not to make friends. Forget Voldemort, then. It's not like she had meant to meet this Stacey Davis. It had just happened.
Stacey stuck something to Sharlen's wrist, making her jump. She peeled it off; a purple polka dot sticker. She stared in disbelief at the grinning girl who stood and pulled her bag over her shoulder. "Buck up, girl. C'mon, let's get to class early so we can talk. It's too noisy in here."
"You use stickers too?" Sharlen asked as she stood to follow her.
Sharlen glanced around the Hall, reasoning that if they left early she wouldn't have to transform. She had hoped to catch a glimpse of him this morning, feeling slightly crestfallen as the two girls exited the Great Hall.
She still hadn't seen him. Had he skipped breakfast?
A black and red blur raced past the two Slytherin girls in the direction of the Great Hall. "Hurry, we're gonna miss out! I'm starving!"
"I can't believe your stomach failed to wake you up, Ron."
"My stomach's so used to Hermione's wake up call by now that it's gotten lazy, I'm sorry." The two boys disappeared to get breakfast the next second. The girls blinked, but then Stacey laughed.
"An infamous pair." She laughed it off and started toward their first class, Care of Magical Creatures. She held the door to the grounds open for Sharlen, but she was still rooted to the spot. "Sharlen? What's wrong?"
That second voice had been familiar. Too familiar. "It's nothing," she forced herself to say, turning to follow Stacey out onto the grounds.
Sharlen hadn't seen him in the Care of Magic Creatures class, either. He must not be taking this class this year, she thought sadly. I must have at least one class with him…
She chased that thought for a minute. Maybe their schedules had been arranged so the two would never meet? It would make sense; being who they were, it was basic instinct to keep the spawn of the Dark Lord as far away from him as possible.
She would kill Snape if such was the case. She forced her mind to relax. It was only the first class on the first day. There was time.
For their first lesson of the year, Professor Hagrid brought back the Nifflers, to see if they could recall them from their fourth year. She recognized him now as the giant man collecting the first years the night before. "I don' spect yer ter know 'bout 'em," he said to Sharlen, who looked up at him through her hair placidly. She knew he, of all the teachers, was the most frightened of her, as he was so devoted to Dumbledore and Sharlen's father was his arch nemesis.
"I've read a bit about Nifflers," she assured him, as the herd of them bounded toward her. A Gryffindor by the name of Lavender had been instructed to release the Nifflers from their crates so everyone in the class could pick one, but as soon as they were set free, they all sprang toward Sharlen.
Sharlen turned a sharp eye toward them and the Nifflers stopped instinctively, each of them sitting down in turn, tails wagging like mad, shovel-like noses sniffing anxiously. Hagrid looked from her to the Nifflers, thoroughly bemused and scared. The rest of the class just stared at her openly. Sharlen bent down and extended her hands to the closest Nifflers, patting them on the head as she said, "Few people know that Nifflers, while notorious treasure hunters, are also instinctively drawn toward treasure in people as well." She paused her speech as she ran her fingers through their soft fur, sadly muttering, "'Treasures' such as power and ambition…"
Sharlen and Stacey were the first to leave when the bell rang up at the castle, signaling the end of the lesson. She heard heavy footfalls behind her and knew it to be the teacher, Professor Hagrid. "Wait!" he called, reaching for her shoulder to stop her. She mentally slapped his hand away and he recoiled. "Ouch! What the…"
"Please," she said quietly, turning to face him. "What is it Professor?"
"You, er… You'd forgot yer book s'all…" he handed it to her and she gingerly took it from him, making sure not to touch his skin. So as not to offend him, she mustered up a smile; it would be smarter to keep on the teachers' good sides. "Thank you Professor. Intriguing lesson, by the way." She then took off with Stacey at her heels.
"You're so cute when you smile!" Stacey gushed, pulling her in for a hug. The cloak protected her for the most part but Sharlen craned her neck away to avoid cheek-to-cheek contact.
"Remember, no touching."
Stacey jumped a foot away, laughing innocently. "Sorry, sorry, I'd forgotten. I'm a very touchy-feely person. This will certainly be a challenge!" She struck a pose with her fists on her hips, determined. Sharlen kept walking.
"My schedule's almost exactly the same as yours!" Stacey exclaimed on the walk to their next destination, Charms. From the moment they stepped back into the castle, it was an instant headache for Sharlen. She left Stacey to continue comparing their schedules and snuck off while she wasn't looking. She fled to the nearest bathroom, transformed, and soared out of the window. She had to get to Flitwick's class early anyway; her whole 'no wand' situation was definitely something he had to be briefed on.
She was just recollecting on how easily she'd been able to slip away from Stacey, like smoke, when she found the correct window. Sharlen swooped in, crying to gather his attention. The professor, whom she assumed was the small man standing on the pile of books behind the desk, nearly toppled over in surprise. He gripped the edge of his desk to regain balance, scooting forward to straighten the book pile. He adjusted his glasses with a sigh and looked around to find her perched upon his desk lamp. He smiled. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing in here? You ought to be in the Owlery sleeping about this time…" He looked around her curiously for a letter.
Sharlen clicked her beak at him and transformed back into her body. This time, Professor Flitwick really did topple over to the side, and the pile of heavy books followed him. Sharlen stopped the books before they crushed his small form and piled them back neatly with her mind. She barely moved, or blinked. "Are you okay?" she asked, the intensity of the question small in her voice.
Professor Flitwick straightened himself up, but did not answer. He was probably about to, but Sharlen kept talking. "Are you Professor Flitwick?" she asked.
She had been asked to attend a meeting with all the teachers after her request to attend Hogwarts had been granted and her intense practical examination passed, but she had refused. She assumed there would be a lot of questions she would be expected to answer, and she hadn't wanted that, so at that expense she would risk meeting the teachers for the first time at the start of term and a few minutes under the Cruciatus Curse from Snape. She didn't care—anything to avoid additional questions about her past and parentage. He nodded in response.
"You gave me quite a fright, my dear," he told her honestly, smiling nervously. "Am I to assume you're, erm… Sharlen Down?" Sharlen nodded, unsurprised he had figured it out; how many students were Animagi? She could have sworn she heard him mutter, "Strange last name…" but she left it alone. It was a mystery to everyone, including herself, and it was better not to confront.
"Well, you know, you're early…" Professor Flitwick muttered, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. His aura gave him away easily, but even if she was ignorant to the colors of his truths, they were plain to see; he'd begun to sweat, his forehead glistening. She was instantly annoyed. She was always met with this reaction, because of who she was, because of who her father was. She was not him.
"I'm not here to attack you, so you can relax," she muttered. Professor Flitwick's eyes widened; had he detected the pain in her voice?
His eyes softened. "Of course not, dear… What can I help you with?"
"I just wanted to come by early and fill you in on some things."
Professor Flitwick nodded, used his wand to add another book to the top of the pile, and began to clamber up. Sharlen assisted him, her right hand raising slowly as she set him on top of the pile. He smiled at her, a real smile. "My, my, that's nifty."
"It has its uses," she agreed. She sat down at the front desk and began to explain about her wordless spell casting and her inability to master using any wand. He actually seemed impressed and, just as Stacey had said, claimed she was already ahead of her whole year. "Am I really?" she asked, skeptical. She'd been afraid of being worlds behind her class because the only magical instruction she'd had was what Snape had brought home to her over the years. "Even though I'm useless with a wand?"
"Well yes, you aren't limited by a wand," Flitwick answered, smiling. "That's why students begin using wordless spells in sixth year and beyond—there are advantages, especially in duels, to not relying on spoken incantations. The same goes for not giving an opponent the benefit of knowing what you're going to do by how you brandish your wand—even that gives an enemy a second to retaliate in turn."
"But don't wizards and witches draw a bond between them and their wands?" Sharlen asked, genuinely curious.
"Well yes, of course," he agreed. "But a wand is only as strong as the wizard who uses it. And wands can be broken beyond repair."
"But so can the mind," she responded quickly.
"You'll give Hermione Granger a run for her money, no doubt about it," he gushed.
"Hermione Granger?" Sharlen muttered absently. She didn't really care who the girl was, to be truthful, but decided it would make for more normal conversation to be inquisitive about it.
"Yes. A Gryffindor. Top of your year, no question about it."
Sharlen froze. Did she know him well? "Well, I'm sure I'll meet her sometime. Also, I just wanted to warn you that I should be coming to class early everyday; I've already cleared it with Sever-" She caught herself. "Professor Snape already approved of it and said he'd alert the other teachers." She explained the aura situation to him just before the other Slytherin students began to filter in, joined with various Ravenclaws. She glanced back at them wearily.
Professor Flitwick nodded to her. "I'm sure you'll be quite the student," he told her. She curled up one corner of her mouth briefly before pulling out her books.
Someone ran up and hugged her from behind. "I… WAS… SO… WORRRRRIIIIED!" came Stacey's voice loudly in her ear.
Sharlen quickly fidgeted out of the embrace and scowled. "I'm not an invalid," she hissed. "I knew my way alright."
"I know, but you just disappeared so quickly!" she exclaimed, hurriedly sticking a sticker onto her own forehead to apparently calm herself. "Here's your schedule back, by the way."
"Thank you. I think I've already got it memorized."
"Hey, Rachelle, over here!" Stacey called, waving over a Ravenclaw. She came over from a group of girls she'd been talking to. "Sharlen, this is my friend Rachelle. She sat with me in Charms last year, too." Sharlen nodded and looked away as Rachelle took a seat next to Stacey. She didn't need two friends. She realized the mistake she'd made opening up to someone.
And all the while, Draco watched her with a smirk. She felt she could have died, or at least dissolved, from the attention.
After Charms, Stacey made her way to the back of the room with a group of Ravenclaw girls, laughing about their lesson. "C'mon Sharlen, we're all heading to Divination next!" she beckoned, waving her over. Sharlen secured her bag around her neck and over one shoulder and shook her head. "I shouldn't travel in a group like that. I'll explain later." She transformed the next second, causing gasps and small words of awe, and soared out the open window. She would explain later, maybe. It would help to avoid suspicion, and too much company.
Then again, having someone to talk to had been… well… fun. And she could have used her help in the search. But she would manage alone. She always did.
Divination had been the class Sharlen had been looking forward to the most, anyway. She'd rather just enjoy the class in silence, in peace, in thought and concentration. Divination was her strength—when her father created her, it was important to him that she master her clairvoyant abilities. He took prophecies very seriously. She would show everyone that she was not some charity case.
Professor Trelawney was waiting for her when she came through the open window. She was bent over a crystal ball, enormously magnified eyes closed and her brow furrowed in concentration. The main color of her aura was a pale yellow, something Sharlen had expected; the art of Divination required confidence in the natural spirits and the communication of mind and body. You needed that confidence to produce insight. She was also very calm, Sharlen noted, as she looked up without surprise. "I saw you coming."
"I see." Indeed, she did not see; she'd never used a crystal ball. She'd never desired or needed to. But, perhaps now, through this hippie guide, she would learn that kind of insight.
Professor Trelawney stood hypnotically from her little chintz chair, but her bad eyesight neglected to warn her that she was not yet out of the way of the little table and the crystal ball toppled to the floor. Sharlen caught it before it smashed, her face patient as she set it back on the table. Professor Trelawney nodded as though she'd foreseen that too. If she had, why hadn't she been more careful about the table? Had she been meaning to test her? "Yes, I did a reading about you earlier and it told me your mind had already been broadened, your Seeing Eye able and willing, but to witness this myself I must tell you, my dear, I am truly impressed. Finally, a student truly possessing the sight."
"A reading? You mean tarot?" Sharlen asked excitedly. She checked herself. No, it couldn't have been tarot; she would have had to be there for the reading to be accurate. So, what…?
"No," Professor Trelawney said, shaking her head with a smile. "Tea leaves."
Sharlen almost burst into laughter. How utterly ridiculous. Professor Trelawney saw the amusement on her face and sighed. "You apparently have a lot to learn if you can't respect the noble art of reading tea leaves."
"You have a lot to learn as well if you let dregs and spoils convince you of what's to come." Professor Trelawney's lip twitched and the colors around her dimmed and faded to a dark gray. She was tense, not necessarily angry, but felt challenged and threatened. Sharlen hadn't meant to challenge her, but, she sighed and let it go. If it was that easy to demolish her confidence then it was obvious this class would not be what she expected. She was instructed to sit and did so without delay.
