Hello again, dear friends!

So here's chapter 2 and this time we're back at Hogwarts!

Be reassured, Hogwarts is not the only wizarding school we'll be visiting throughout this story but you'll have to be patient ^^

DISCLAIMER: Hogwarts and the Wizarding world is JK's as well as those characters that you recognize

ENJOY!

September

MEROPE'S ARC

part 1— Armandeus Beaflet

Three years had passed since Merope Woodstrong had received for the first time the letter that officially made her a student at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and yet, after all this time and a month wandering down the castles corridors, she still managed to fail noticing those bloody ghosts everywhere!

'Excuse me.' she patted, the feeling of cold and wet still creating goose bumps all over her skin. 'I didn't see you...'

'It's all right, girl.' said the ghost sympathetically, faking to pat her head. 'Just try and look where you're going next time.'

Obviously, he had meant it well, but Merope couldn't help to take these words as slightly insulting. After all, was it her fault if she seemed unable to notice every transparent form floating around the castle? Surely the ghosts could also try at least to be cautious! But who would dare blame a ghost. Merope believed it rather rude to insult somebody who was already dead, particularly so when the death had been rather gruesome, and this particular ghost seemed to unfortunately have had such an experience.

Merope shook her head so as to get rid of those deranging thoughts, and opened her book back to the page she had lost. Though most people she knew kept telling her that reading while walking was the reason why she couldn't manage ten meters without finding herself on the ground, she usually did not have the patience to wait until finding a nice sitting spot before opening a book. She had started "Dobby the Free Elf" by Luna Scamander two days ago. The book retraced the story of one of Harry Potter's dearest and most faithful friends, who had died protecting the Chosen One. It had quickly achieved top rankings, even from the Daily Prophet, and was rapidly set as a best-seller. What helped to increase the novel's popularity could have been that the writer, Luna Scamander once Lovegood, was herself a celebrity in her own way (she was a rather original lady) or the surprising participation of Draco Malfoy, once the owner of Dobby and a wizard with an unfortunate dark past.

Of course, for two years now, Luna Scamander and the rest of her family were nowhere to be found and neither the Ministry nor the Order of the Phoenix could find them, and Draco Malfoy was still unable to leave his highly secured manor for fear of being targeted by terrorists like so many times before. On the bright side of things, the book was truly formidable, and Scamander's light writing style made it all the most enjoyable to read.

As she was reading through a most thrilling passage of how Dobby suddenly apparated in Harry Potter's bedroom, a large brown form shadowed the pages of her book and just like that, she found herself on the ground, her hands empty and her bottom slightly aching. A deep snort made her raise her eyes and to her most utter astonishment and, she had to admit, fear, she found herself staring right in the eyes of Armandeus Beaflet.

Beaflet was Hogwarts' tall, dark, grumpy, angry, limping gamekeeper. His hobby was terrorizing students wherever teachers were nowhere to be seen, and everyone was forced to admit that he did so quiet well indeed. His appearance kind of favoured him anyway. Beaflet was tall enough to look down on everybody, and with his long thick hair, uncombed and jet black yet sprinkled in grey, falling on his eyes and over his bushy eyebrows, and his large black beard, only his murderous black eyes were really visible on his face. On top of that, he wore a long and old patched coat, with the collar raised so to hide his face even more. When he spoke, Merope could see his yellow, pointed teeth. For some reason, that made her shudder, maybe because she knew it meant that he was going to talk in his angry, despiteful rumbled voice.

'Watch where yer going, brat.' he grumbled.

'Sorry.' mumbled Merope.

'Well, stand up, now.' growled the gamekeeper. 'Yer' no' gonna stay o' yer butt all yer life, are yeh?' when she did not answer, he spat not so far from where her book had fallen and left with a snort, limping on his cane.

'And where were you looking, huh?' she whispered angrily once she was certain he was too far to hear. Today is definitely not my day, she thought with a sigh.

Holding her book protectively under her arm this time, she hurried her pace towards the Hufflepuff's Common Room, eager to prevent any more encounters. Thankfully, the Common Room was only a few turns away and soon enough, she found herself standing in front of a large number of barrels. She took out her wand, tapped the code on the barrels and watched patiently as they all made space enough for her to pass. Down a small staircase she opened a wooden door and found herself inside the round, cosy, warm and lovely Hufflepuff's Common Room. Despite herself, she smiled, mentally thanking Helga Hufflepuff for her brilliance.

On a far corner of the Common Room, a little away from the noisy talks and laughs, was Merope's favourite spot; a mountain of large and soft pillows. The perfect place for sitting down with a cup of hot chocolate and talking with one's friends. And at Merope's upmost joy, her friends were indeed waving at her, calmly sitting down on the pillows, happiness written all over their face.

Smiling, she hurried to meet them and on the process nearly knocked down a poor first year passing by. 'I'm so sorry!' she exclaimed, holding him. She was starting to think she had been cursed when, as the boy walked along, he stumbled on her foot and lost his balance. 'Sorry...' she said again. She was not smiling anymore when she sat down next to her friends.

'Walking is so hard, guys...' she complained loudly.

'That was also my problem when I was younger,' said Michael. Though he was her age, Michael was taller than most fifth years and strong-looking too. He had dark brown hair, slightly long and very soft and big green eyes. Everyone loved Michael, his smile and his freckles; he was adorable and yet mature at the same time. 'Of course, I overcame the difficulty once I reached my... What was it? Third Birthday or something...'

'Shut up, Michael.' said Merope, bumping his arm in a vain attempt at looking upset. However, she was laughing heartily with everyone else. 'Seriously though,' she managed to say when the laughing grew less intense. 'I managed to bump into three people today in... What? Ten minutes? Fifteen at most.'

'I'm sure you've done worse before, honey...' said Nigel, nonchalantly swinging his head to remove a streak of long straight chestnut hair from his pointy mouse face.

'You always say that, Nigel,' answered Merope with a sigh, 'but we all know even I am not that bad.' As she turned to see the person to whom she was talking to, she was surprised to see him holding a very thin rectangular device in his hand with a coloured front that he could change simply by touching it. 'What is that?' she couldn't help but ask.

Nigel raised his eyes, feigning not understanding what she was talking about. Then, he looked down at the device on his hands and made a very unconvincing 'Oh...! That!' before moving the object right under Merope's nose. 'That, my dear,' he said, somewhat pompously, 'is a muggle invention. Of course, you pureblood may not have ever heard of it before because... Well, for whatever silly reason... But the muggles use it all the time! It's called a smartphone. It's basically an advanced version of the mobile phone. You know...' he insisted, 'the telephones you can take with you everywhere...' Nigel rolled his eyes and grumbled something about 'ignorant wizards', 'shame' and 'kidding me...'.

'And what does it do?' asked Merope, ignoring her friend's grumbling.

'What does it do?' exclaimed Nigel, not as outraged as he made it seem. 'This smartphone does everything! Calling, texting, listening to music, taking pictures, GPS, internet, remembering birthdays! For muggles, this' he said, insistently pointing at the device, 'is just vital.'

Merope gave Nigel the most perplex look she could manage. 'Nigel,' she said, 'it's useless.'

'Did you even listen to anything I just said?' exclaimed a positively desperate Nigel.

'Yes,' said Merope coolly, 'and I don't know what "texting" and "GPS" are, I still don't see the point of using the "Internet"—I mean, the concept is still really vague to me; for what exactly do you use it?— and there are a hundreds way of communicating with other people from a distance—which I guessed is what you named "calling"— I can go to a concert whenever I want to listen to music and—what even was that part with taking pictures? This thing is tiny!'

'Oh my goodness, Merope!' exclaimed Nigel once more, rising his eyes to the sky in a desperate plea. '"Texting" is sending a written message instantly to the person of your choice as long as you have his or her phone number. A "GPS" is a device or an application that can indicate you any road anywhere to help you find your way wherever you are! As long as you have internet... Oh, and internet, you can literally use it for anything! If you're looking for information about something, anything, you'll find your answers there; if you're just looking for a way to pass your time, you'll find thousands of fun ways to do so on the internet; if all you want is interacting with people, checking on the latest news, looking for your next job, sending an e-mail—oh, wait, you probably don't know what that is... Whatever! It's all you need in just one click on your computer, mobile phone, tablet...

'What else was there? Oh, yes! Instant calling via your phone is a hundred times easier than sending owls or sticking your head in a fireplace! I mean, sometimes I can't help but think that wizards invented half of what they did whilst being utterly and completely drunk! Whatever, about listening to music. With a phone, you don't have to wait until your favourite band or singer holds a concert or shows up on the radio, you just do one click and tada! Your favourite song is playing! And finally—don't hesitate to tell me if I have neglected anything, of course— you wondered how it was possible for a small and tiny object to take pictures... Well, I don't really know how it does it, but it does it! And it works great! Those pictures look real...'

'Are they muggle pictures?' asked Amara, perplex. 'The ones that don't move?'

'Well, obviously...'said Nigel who looked like he was starting to feel rather annoyed by the lack of comprehension as to how outstanding such a device actually was.

'How can it look realistic if the people are not moving?' asked Michael, shoving his hands around to express better the silliness of the situation.

'Because of the quality of the picture!' exclaimed Nigel, positively angry now. 'Open you blind pure-blood eyes for God's sake! Wizards are not even halfway as evolved as muggles!'

'Nigel,' said Merope coolly for the second time. 'It may look extraordinary to you and muggles because without magic, you have to do much more to achieve a simple result. Wizards don't. We have magic, Nigel. This is not useful to us.'

'Of course it is!' insisted Nigel. 'You guys refuse to see the obvious! This stupid racism that Wizards have against muggles is flowing through your veins and you have no idea that it is there and corrupting you! If you could just stop thinking of muggle like this inferior specie that will never be worthy of wizards then you might realize how much further they've come far compared to you! You might notice that more than half of what they have, you don't!'

Without realizing it, Nigel had actually caught the attention of half the Common Room and many students were now eyeing him like if he was a dangerous madman. Merope sighed. She didn't like drawing the attention to her, and though Nigel was the source of focus at this instant, she still couldn't help but feel uneasy.

'Whatever, Nigel.' she said in a low voice. 'Don't get mad next time.'

Nigel, his face red and his eyebrows furiously frowned, seemed on the verge of expressing some very strong argument, but after many failed attempts at actually producing any words from his repeatedly opening and closing mouth, he seemed to think it best to just not say anything. Angrily, the little boy raised on his feet, snatched his bag from under Michael and left the circle of third-years.

'Fine!', he snapped. Turning his heels, he took off, walking at the speed of light and left the room in the direction of the dorms.

Thomas Abergabby, a boy with very short blond hair, striking blue-grey eyes and a rather plump body rose in turn on his feet. 'I'm gonna make sure he's all right.' he said calmly before leaving gracefully, following Nigel's path.

'You think we've been too hard on him?' asked Michael, eyebrows raised as he watched Thomas go.

'I guess so,' said Amara, her head tucked in her shoulders in a look of utmost guilt. 'I didn't mean to hurt him though... I hope he doesn't hate us.'

Merope looked at the door to the dorms but her mind wandered beyond. A knot suddenly seemed to form in her throat as she tried to remember a time when Nigel had ever shown that much anger. As guilt slowly made its way to her insides, she realized that it had never happened before. Nigel had always been a happy, laughing boy, who easily made friends and never enemies.

'He was wrong anyways…' added Michael. 'I know what a mobile phone is. Everyone does.'

'I didn't.' mumbled Merope.

'Yeah, well…'

'Not that I care, though.' She added, a little more coldly than intended.

'You should.' Said Amara with her usual softness.

Merope shrugged and looked away. It seemed to her that everyone's obsession with muggle technology was completely irrelevant when the wizarding world had evolved so much. Of course Nigel did not agree. And he was not the only one. Merope had noticed how muggle-borns and half-bloods had started creating their own little communities in the castle. Now there was the duelling club, the chess club, the potion club and the Star Wars club (Star Wars apparently was a muggle movie, which sounded way less interesting than the wizard movies that had started coming out recently).

Anyways, Merope had started feeling somewhat out of place recently.

'Merope…' said Amara.

Merope turned to her perfect best friend with perfect hair and a perfect black skin and perfect big eyes, perfectly holding a perfect newspaper in her perfect hands. 'What?'

'Did you know the Minister for Magic had made a speech just yesterday?'

'Has he now?' she asked, perplexe. 'About what?'

'About rabbits and the best way to cook them — what do you think he would make a speech about!' the girl exclaimed. 'Whatever… He said they had captured one of the terrorists.'

'Really? That's great!'

'Yeah but he died.'

'Oh.'

'Also, they say they have made advancements about the current location of Harry Potter and everything seems to indicate that he's still alive.'

'Uhuh…'

'We also know Hermione Granger just left the research group and is probably coming back to London…'

'Well that's good news!', exclaimed Merope with so much irony that even Amara, who was quite used to it now, raised an eyebrow.

'I'm sure they're doing great.'

'Of course…' prompted Merope. 'When has the government ever failed us anyways?'

'You are so pessimistic.'

'I know, thanks.'

'How do you live with yourself, Lu…'

'Girls…' suddenly shouted Michael who had been playing with his hair all this time. 'What are these Slytherin boys doing here?'

Merope and Amara turned their heads at the same time and at the same time they saw the three slytherins walking calmly into the Common Room as if they had done this all their life.

One of them stood out of the lot. He was tall, he was handsome and he seemed to radiate confidence though his slanted eyes showed only boredom. 'Where's Douglas?' he asked.

The boy named Douglas came out of behind a chair, shivering. 'Hi Andreus…' he managed to say.

'Come with me.' Said Andreus. And just like that, he left the room, his friends trailing behind him and Douglas, following with apparent dread written all over his face.

'What's happening?' whispered Amara. 'Why is no one doing anything?'

Michael growled. 'Didn't you see?' he said, his voice full of anger. 'Beaflet was waiting behind the door.'

Merope frowned. Hogwarts had often been called the safest place on earth and in recent years, the ministry had done everything to make sure it held up to that title, but with Beaflet in the castle, Merope was getting more and more anxious…

Well, I hope you enjoyed! Because if you didn't….. I'll cry…. Lol

Seriously though I don't think (aka I'm pretty confident) it's not by best work but there you go.

These first chapters will be a lot of building up mysteries and all so I hope you won't get bored with it though ^^