Hi everyone! Night here! It's my turn to write a chapter, so I wrote chapter 5, which is below. You'll see a new OC in this chapter. ;)
We didn't get any reviews for the past chapter, so of course, there is no "responding to reviews" section.
DISCLAIMER: NIGHT, MARE, AND MINKX DO NOT OWN THE HARRY POTTER BOOK SERIES OR MOVIE SERIES. THOSE BELONG TO J.K. ROWLING. WE MERELY OWN OUR OCS AND THE IDEA FOR THIS STORY.
Please read and review!
Enjoy the story!
Chapter 5
"Idiot, stupid Marcus…using up half of my potion to make miniature stink bombs…" Andrea muttered under her breath in her History of Magic class. She tapped her quill against her desk, sighing.
She missed the familiar weight of her pencils and pens, which unlike quill ink, could easily be erased with her trusty pink erasers or dabbed out with handy White-Out. And unlike quills- she glared at the outrageous, unwieldy feather in her hand- they didn't splatter ink everywhere.
Andrea rubbed at an ink splatter on her paper, throwing a glance out the window beside her desk, reminding herself once again to change seats so she'd stop getting distracted by the view out of the window (which, she admitted, was far more interesting than her actual class).
Her gaze was drawn to the large clock-tower standing proudly beside the courtyard, checking the time on the tower's large face, examining its rickety, black arms.
One minute until twelve o'clock.
The long, minute arm shuddered, and she absentmindedly pushed her piece of parchment in front of her, poking at it with her quill to make it seem like she was doing some of her work. As if it mattered.
The arm finally grudgingly made it to the large mark on the clock face and the bells of the clock tower chimed.
Twelve o'clock.
She returned her attention to the dusty classroom, waiting for-
"Hem-hem. Mrs. Opium. Would you please name one of the last surviving locations that was used as part of the Goblin Rebellion and when it was used, as well as how it served its purpose?"
Andrea straightened, noticing that even some of her fellow Ravenclaws were slumbering, deciding to spend their attention on more worthwhile classes.
Professor Binns stood, well floated, in the front of the classroom, waiting for the answer. He was nothing but a silvery-whitish form that tapered off somewhere below his calves into misty vapor, his features vaguely defined by the hazy edges of whatever mist-like, vaporous substance he was made out of.
"Now, think hard about this, Mrs. Opium. It's a very difficult question," he said in his monotonous voice, not noticing the fact that the answer happened to be written behind him on the chalkboard, and with his half-invisible state, any half-wit who hadn't gone blind could see the answer written in large chalk letters.
"Hogsmeade Village, the 3 Broomsticks Inn. It was used as Wizard headquarters in the Goblin Rebellions of…"
She peered at the answer that lay innocently in white on the dark board, the numbers half-distorted by his misty shape, but still visible enough for her to read.
"Sixteen…twelve. 1612."
"Very good, Mrs. Oakwood."
Professor Binns turned back to his lesson, pointing a ghostly finger at something written on the board and continued his droning.
Andrea rolled her eyes. She hadn't even bothered to correct him on the fact that she was a "Ms." not a "Mrs.", since as far as she knew, she had no husband, and that her last name was "Orpheo" not "Opium". It was the same every class.
She slumped down again, following the example of her fellow classmates. Not even Ravenclaws bothered to look like they were paying attention. His lessons were always the same.
Every house had already developed their own system for this. The Gryffindors kept a trunk in their common room that contained ancient notes from roughly 50-100 years ago, all magically-preserved scribbles that past students had left behind. (Though much to the Gryffindor house's students' disappointment, there existed no notes from Hermione Granger, the famous, clever witch who had aided Harry Potter. In fact, she'd left a specific note on the bottom of the trunk saying clearly that she disapproved of this method of so-called "cheating") The Hufflepuffs, true to their hardworking, honest principles, had been hesitant of even making a system in the first place, but in the end, they began to take turns taking notes for each other, each Hufflepuff having a specific day of the month when he or she would take notes for all of the other Hufflepuff students. The Slytherins bribed (or blackmailed) the other students into borrowing their notes. And the Ravenclaws had all taken their separate approaches on it, one student inventing a machine that wrote down whatever was being said in the room (unfortunately, it not only took down what Professor Binns said, but a few of the conversations that were going on in the room, making the notes puzzling and difficult to read), others relying on a mixture of memory, brief notes, and their History of Magic book (like Andrea did), a few buying the notes from students from other houses, and a few still bothering to take notes the "old-fashioned" way.
"….in 1761, Wiglaf the Wise drew up a treaty between wizards and goblins…"
She scribbled down the date on her parchment, preferring not to trust it to her mind, which seemed to have a black hole where numbers and dates were supposed to go.
Andrea dipped her brown, standard eagle-feather quill into the inkwell, examining her neat handwriting on the parchment, her letters standing straight up like little, black and white soldiers. She couldn't help but think what a shame it would be when the ink would get all smudged when she placed the parchment in her bag. Just another disadvantage of quills. Why on earth would the magical society, which was at least 5 times more advanced than the muggle society, still use these damnable quills that the muggles had thrown away after the invention of the ink pen!
"Hey,"
Her hand jerked suddenly, causing her inkwell to topple, the little ink container rolling about, leaving a trail of black like a slug would with its slime across the desk, before it rolled over the table's edge and crashed onto the floor in shards
She groaned, pulling out her wand, raising it to cast a whispered spell, when suddenly, a tanned hand reached out and gently pushed her wand down.
"Hanhon, no. Cate sice. My mistake, I clean up."
The voice was unfamiliar to her, though it was heavily accented.
The hand disappeared behind her for a moment, and when it returned, it held a wand that was made out of unusually light-colored wood and had some carvings on the top of it.
The hand flicked the wand quickly, the unidentified voice behind her murmuring, "Reparo."
The pieces of the ink container formed together again, the cracks sealing as if they were never there.
"Accio."
The heavily-accented voice spoke again, the ink container flying behind her.
A finger tapped her shoulder and she turned around, a very tanned boy with wavy, dark black hair and twinkling, brown-black eyes holding an ink container out towards her.
"Cate sice," he said, flashing surprisingly-white teeth in a smile, when suddenly, realizing his mistake, he grimaced, saying apologetically, "Ah! Glusna! Sorry, my mistake."
He held out the ink container again, and Andrea took it, placing it back on her desk.
"Thanks," she said.
"My English is…not very good…" he said, grimacing again.
She nodded sympathetically.
"Why didn't the teachers give you a Language Charm? It would have saved you a lot of trouble."
"I want to…speak? Hanhon…Prove?" the boy pondered, for a bit, looking slightly displeased at his lack of mastery of the English language.
"Improve?" Andrea suggested softly.
"Ha! Improve!" he cried out loudly, with a look of satisfaction on his face, "I want to em-improve my English!"
She snuck a quick look at Professor Binns to assure that he hadn't caught wind of their rather loud conversation. Instead, he seemed to still be droning on about the Goblin Revolutions.
"Shh…" she cautioned quietly, lifting a finger up to her lips, while her other hand gestured towards Professor Binns.
His eyes flitted to the professor, his gaze darkening as he saw the professor's hand move to brush a book, his hand passing through as he did so.
"Binns, yes? He is man that has never passed into Wanagiyata? Iyokosice…" he lowered his head, "Sad…"
Andrea tilted her head to the side, something she'd grown into the habit of doing when she was curious.
"What's sad?"
The boy gestured to Professor Binns. "The wana gi. He never goes with his family. Stuck in this world. Not ni, not te. Stuck. Wana gi."
She began to feel a bit awkward.
"Umm…sorry. I don't understand."
"Wana gi," he repeated, frowning, biting his lip in concentration, "No…te but hasn't gone to Wanagiyata. Stuck."
Andrea shook her head.
"I can't understand what you're saying," she said, and then added uneasily, "Sorry…"
"Not your fault," he said, wincing, "it is my English."
"Well…what did you want to ask me?"
"What?"
"You must have a reason for talking to me…"
The boy gave her a curious look.
"Reason? I talk for…companionship?" He tried the word on his tongue, twisting his lips awkwardly as if he were trying to capture it. A smile threatened to appear on Andrea's face at the boy's silly faces, and she pressed her lips together firmly, trying to stop it from appearing.
He stuck his tongue out, letting it hang like a dog's.
"Such a long word!" he complained.
And that was where her self-control ended. Andrea laughed loudly, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.
He grinned.
"That is ehate!"
She paused for a moment before asking, "Laughter?"
He laughed, pointing at himself, "Ehate!"
She nodded, before saying carefully, enunciating the syllables, "Laughter."
"Laugh-ter?"
She nodded once more.
The boy looked delighted at this new word.
"I am Wambleeska," he declared proudly, pointing to himself.
"Andrea," she said in turn, before adding, "Nice to meet you…"
Andrea trailed off, worried that she would end up butchering his Native American name.
Wambleeska seemed to have the same problem with her name, and finally, he smiled, embarrassed, and stated, "Hard to pronounce. I can call you another name?"
"Sure."
Wambleeska glanced at her up and down with a penetrating gaze, as if he were not merely looking at a person but solving some complex puzzle or equation. He bit his lip, black pebble-eyes solemn as he stared into hers while Andrea wondered what he could possibly be seeing.
"My eyes are blue," she said helpfully.
"Kiya."
"What?"
"Kiya" he declared, "You are Kiya."
Andrea shrugged, deciding that his mistake in saying "you are" instead of "I will call you" was merely due to his lack of knowledge on the English language. She wondered if she should also tell him that she had difficulty pronouncing his name, though she had no idea what else she'd call him. Bob? Wamby? Bambi?
She snorted at the last one, imagining the Native American boy with large, brown eyes and antlers.
Wambleeska stared at her inquisitively.
"Kiya's fine," she assured the boy.
He gave a satisfied nod which reminded her oddly of Louis Ollivander, the current owner of the Ollivander's wand shop, and how he had had that same satisfied look on his face when she'd found her wand, dragon heartstring and hazel wood, and sent a cascade of sparks flying down the shelves of the store, that same proud smile on his face, the satisfied look of someone who'd accomplished his or her goal on his face.
Wambleeska pointed back at himself and repeated the same two unknown words to her once more.
"Ni,"
He put his hand on his chest, towards the upper-left spot where his heart resided.
"Heart?" Andrea guessed.
He shook his head furiously, causing his wavy black hair to fly about in messy bits.
"Ni!" he said with more emphasis, pointing to himself.
"Ni, ni, ni, ni!" he pointed to every Ravenclaw in the room, some of whom where already giving Wambleeska and Andrea odd glances, finding them more interesting then Professor Binns' lesson.
"Ni!" he pointed to Andrea.
Then, he turned so he was facing Professor Binns.
"Not ni!"
"Alive?"
"Ha!" he crowed out in triumph, pointing to himself, "Ni! Alive!"
"Not ni, not a-live," he said, explaining rapidly, "te."
"Dead!" Andrea told Wambleeska, the boy's infectious happiness starting to get to her.
"Ha! Yes!," he said, shouting loudly now, "Te!"
The word echoed across the room, waking 3 sleeping RavenClaws and causing all eyes to now gaze upon Wambleeska and Andrea, even Professor Binns falling silent.
There was silence for a moment, the word echoing through the dusty confines of the room, some even escaping the room through the ajar door to echo down the hallway in small whispers.
"Te-te-te," the room whispered, throwing the small word across the stone walls and back again. It seemed no longer to be the word that had sprung merrily from Wambleeska's mouth, but it seemed almost as if Hogwarts itself was murmuring the word in dry, husky tones.
"Te-te-te…" said the murmurs insistently, millions of dusty voices overlapping.
"Te-te-te"
And then there was a voice, heard in the sound of a scream.
Haha, another cliffhanger. This one, I suppose is my fault. I'm getting addicted to cliffhangers.
The person who wrote this chapter: Night
The OCs belong to:
Marcus Valenski belongs to Mare
Andrea Orpheo belongs to Night
Wambleeska belongs to Night
The next chapter is already written and will come out soon. I, Night, had to write it becaause I made a cliffhanger at the end of this one T_T
Please review!