DISCLAIMER! I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J.K. Rowling!
A/N: Sorry for not updating for so long but college is no fun. Too much work. Anyway, I hope I'll be able to update soon since I have a long break. I had to split this chapter, it was getting too long. Well, let me know what you think of this chapter! I feel the need to mention that only Neville (though he doesn't know it) and Ian Hederstern (hee, hee, the pedophile) have feelings for Islinn!!!! =]
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"So, what do you think its guarding?" Ron asked Harry the next morning.
"I'm not sure, but it must be really important," Harry answered.
"Do you not think the person the object is being hidden from important?" Islinn supplied.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked as Ron scooted closer while Hermione and Neville leaned forward to listen. They were all curious about what was hidden in the trap door but only Ron and Harry were really into it. Truth be told, Islinn was more than a little curious. Why hide something so important in Hogwarts instead of a place like Gringotts?
"Well," Islinn replied, "even if something important needs hiding, it could easily be hidden somewhere else. If it needs to be hidden at Hogwarts, then perhaps the Headmaster's office would have been enough; however, if they put such protection, it could be that the person they are trying to hide the object from is powerful or extremely clever."
"Or both," Neville supplied timidly and the others nodded. Hermione turned to Islinn.
"There's something else to think about. What if the school's in danger?" Hermione queried and Ron snorted.
"Hogwarts? Yeah, right; Hogwarts is the safest place. And here I was thinking you were smarter than that," Ron said and Hermione glared at him.
"Miss Granger might be correct," Islinn supplied and Ron gawked at her. Hermione had a smug look on her face. "Allow me to explain. If this person is indeed clever, they will eventually find out where this object is hidden. Unfortunately, if this person is also evilly powerful, in knowing where the object is, what is there to stop him or her from coming to Hogwarts?" Islinn offered. There was a moment of silence as the group processed this.
"True," Ron admitted reluctantly. There was no time for more however, because at that time the mail came. Islinn's beloved Nomen and Harry's owl, Hedwig, were flying side by side and dropped down to their respective owner's, who were sitting next to each other. Islinn was seated between Harry and Ron, while Neville and Hermione sat across from them. Once the birds were freed from their charge they flew off together, surprising both Harry and Islinn. They shared a look before turning to their letters, which said the same thing.
I have been notified by the Gryffindor Quidditch captain that both Islinn Ignotum and Harry Potter will be part of the Quidditch team. It is to be determined however, if it will be alternation or if one should be appointed Alternate Seeker. Either way, you have received a broom, which is currently in the Quidditch supply closet. I wish to hear you are practicing hard.
Head of Gryffindor House,
Minerva McGonagall
Harry and Islinn looked at each other. Harry grinned and Islinn allowed a smirk. Both showed their letters to their companions. Ron looked really excited wile Neville smiled widely. Hermione frowned but then gave a reluctant smile. Harry, though happy, was somewhat nervous. Islinn herself was nervous and excited, but as usual, she didn't show it.
Islinn and Harry were both glad they ended up in the team; they wouldn't have wanted to compete for a place in the team. The group conversed quietly until it was time to head to class. "Ignotum! Potter!" they heard a voice call when they had left the Great Hall. Said people turned to see Oliver Wood approach them. Harry and Islinn detached themselves from the group and walked toward Oliver.
"Good morning, Mister Wood," Islinn greeted.
"Morning," he said brightly and him and Harry shared a nod. "Just wanted to tell you to meet me at the Quidditch pitch an hour before dinner," he instructed. Both first years nodded.
"We shall be there, Mister Wood," Islinn replied.
"Okay, see you two later then," Oliver replied and he went his way while Harry and Islinn rejoined the group. Surprisingly, double Potions went by quite quickly for Islinn… but perhaps that was because her and Hermione finished their potion quickly and had made sure to do it correctly so Professor Snape could not make a bad comment about it. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same for Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus. When class was over Islinn informed the group she needed to go to the common room but she would rejoin them in the Great Hall.
Islinn had not wanted to carry books with her since their last class of the day would be Herbology, and anyhow, she had forgotten to hide the Animagus book properly in her haste to not be late to breakfast that morning. When she was done, she stayed there a little longer, relishing in the still and silent dormitory. Finally, she headed out.
On her way to the Great Hall she unexpectedly found someone. She was surprised when he chose to acknowledge her. "Miss Ignotum," he greeted, sounding a little surprised even as he gracefully inclined his head toward her.
She chose to acknowledge him properly because she held a certain level of respect for the Slytherin who had not laughed at her when the rest of his House had. She gave him an elegant curtsy.
"Mister Nott," she greeted in as a composed manner as she could. There was an awkward pause but neither of them showed how uncomfortable they were. Islinn was surprised that Nott, like her, was good at acting the part. Unlike Malfoy, Nott was not (or at least did not act) like a spoiled pureblood snob and Islinn found that she thought Theodore Nott would grow up to be a proper pureblood. He interrupted her musings.
"I am pleasantly surprised to see you are still at Hogwarts," he commented. There was neither malice nor sarcasm in his voice.
She blinked once slowly and inclined her head in reply. "In truth, I am quite surprised myself," she said.
"You fly quite impressively; you are talented, Miss Ignotum," he complimented.
"I thank you, though my actions yesterday were foolish. It seems, however, that you are quite talented yourself. You were the only other person to be able to command your broom toward you if I do recall correctly," she answered.
He admitted her comment with a nod even as his cheeks took the slightest shade of pink. "You flatter me," was all he said.
"It is simply the truth," she said with a slight smile. She noticed that he allowed a small smile also. "You must excuse me, but I must go to the Great Hall," she told him before another awkward silence could come over them. He inclined his head.
"I was going there myself," he said and the silent agreement was made that he would escort her there. They were silent as they began walking, but it didn't last long. "I am quite surprised by you, Miss Ignotum," he said as they walked.
"Is it possible for you to be more specific, Mister Nott?" she asked and he was silent a moment as he pondered how to word his thoughts.
"You are not what… others think you to be. And you act much like the proper pureblood despite your half-blood status," he finally said and didn't look at her.
"Your gallantry of expression flatters me, Mister Nott; however, you must understand that I act as I do simply because it was the manner I was raised in and not because I want to appear to be the pureblood I am not," she told him. This conversation sounded familiar to Islinn.
"I never thought you did, Miss Ignotum. Your actions are much too fluid and performed with too much ease to not be natural," he said and Islinn was reminded, yet again, of the conversation she had with Ian.
Theodore Nott would never fully admit to constantly watching her interact with others. She was so strange and at the same time intriguing. He was oddly reminded of himself with the way she held herself and just simply the way she was. He would also never fully admit to being slightly interested in what Malfoy had to say about her, which was quite a lot. Of course he didn't fancy her; they were much too young for that. Maybe friends… although even that suggestion might be a little far-fetched… her friends would never accept him either way. Perhaps they could be study partners; although it seemed that know-it-all Granger was already that. He let it go for now because they were nearing the Great Hall.
He stopped walking nearly at the same time she did. "It would not be wise to allow everyone to see a Slytherin and Gryffindor together," he told her. She gave a smirk as she acknowledged his comment with a nod and he motioned for her to go before him, like the proper gentleman would. She moved to stand in front of him.
"I am glad you do not think so foully of me, Mister Nott. I thank you," she said before gracefully dipping into a neat curtsy. Then she turned and walked away. '…not think so foully of me…' what was that suppose to mean? He didn't think foully of her at all. Was she simply being modest? He shook it off as he watched her. He really did believe her movements were too fluid to not be natural. Even the simple act of walking was smooth… it looked like she was gliding instead.
Islinn walked into the Great Hall feeling strangely relieved and surprised. Really, Theodore Nott, the Slytherin, was saying nice things about her? Never had she though it possible. She had been surprisingly intrigued by him by the way he carried himself and for some reason that was why she felt relieved he didn't think ill of her. She sat down next to Hermione and a moment later, Nott walked in. Nott and Islinn merely allowed a quick gaze before averting their eyes. She put some food on her plate and took a bite as she listened vaguely to the separate conversations the four of her acquaintances were having. She discreetly looked to the professors' table and deliberately did not look at Professor Quirrell.
She was met, instead, by Professor Snape's usual slight nod of greeting. She simply returned the gesture and held his gaze. Staring at each other was not unusual nor did they ever acknowledge that they did to others. It was a contest of sorts, where each would try to read what the other was feeling. When she really though about it, she found it strange that her and Snape did that, but she felt like she knew him because of her father's memories, and it's probably why this contest-type thing didn't bother her. There was no real winner in this contest since neither would acknowledge to knowing what the other felt, and also, Islinn's attention usually was claimed by her company. His eyes were void of emotion at the moment, much like hers, yet neither felt uncomfortable nor broke the gaze. It was almost comforting to have someone she didn't have to talk to.
"Islinn," Hermione said. Islinn as always allowed her eyes to soften slightly toward the professor before looking away.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Islinn asked her companion.
"Neville and I were wondering if you'd like to come with us to a place near the Black Lake after Herbology," she invited.
"I would like to, thank you. Perhaps I may start on the Potions essay," Islinn agreed.
Hermione was about to reply, but Ron spoke before she could. "Hey Islinn, we should start heading toward Herbology, or we'll be late," he said again pointedly ignoring Hermione.
"You are correct, Mister Weasley, we should be making our way to Herbology," she said taking her things and standing. Ron smiled, he was rarely acknowledged to be correct. The others stood also and they all made their way to class. It was an awkward silence at first, but then each began getting lost in their thoughts, which was chiefly true for Harry as he thought about yesterday's incident. Once they had reached the greenhouse and gone to their respective places (Islinn still sitting with Hermione and Neville – far away from Harry and Ron), Hermione and Neville began chattering quietly until Professor Sprout came, Islinn joining in a comment here and there. In reality, Islinn's mind wasn't exactly in the present conversation because she was thinking of other things. First, she'd see Jace and she then would go Shadowhunting tonight. Then, there was Oliver, whom Harry and Islinn had to meet an hour before dinner for their first Quidditch practice. Lastly, and quite stupidly in fact (Islinn admitted this fact quite reluctantly), she was somewhat excited that she might see Ian Hederstern… and maybe Neville will decide to wait for her again. Why was she even excited about that? With so many things in mind, she shouldn't even be thinking about that! Alas, her mind couldn't help but travel in that direction.
"Hello Islinn," she heard a voice call taking her out of her thoughts. She looked up, her sharp eyes focusing on the blond boy and his friends. She gave them a small smile.
"Good afternoon, Mister Macmillan," she greeted as she nodded with a friendly expression to Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbott.
"May we sit here?" Justin asked. Islinn raised an eyebrow. Wasn't it their choice to make where to sit?
"Certainly," she replied anyway with an affirmative nod. The Hufflepuffs sat near her with Justin sitting right next to her.
Later into the class they were potting Mandrakes, the earmuffs securely over their heads. As usual, Hermione and Islinn had earned their House points. Somehow and without words the girls had come to an understanding of sorts. Hermione would answer the professors' questions partially and Islinn would answer the rest of the question, and together they would gain their House points. It was a nice and systematic teamwork that Islinn enjoyed because it was organized. This, of course, did not work in Professor Snape's class, since he did not like Hermione and Harry usually did not have a clue, like the Slytherin's. Islinn thought it strange that Ron (and Harry for that matter) didn't call her on her responding questions or named her a know-it-all like they did Hermione. They usually said that it was good that Islinn answered questions because then it gave Gryffindor points. Another thing Islinn thought strange was that Professor Snape sometimes gave her points also, though they were considerably less than what other professor's gave her. Those days were good for Islinn, and she would smile, if slightly.
As agreed, Hermione, Islinn, and Neville were near the Black Lake writing their Potions essay, and the girls were helping Neville with his own essay. After some time, the girls were done with their essay and helping Neville wrap up his.
When they had finally finished, they had plenty of time to spare. So, Islinn decided to be true to her promise. "Mister Longbottom would you like to bring Trevor?" she asked the shy boy.
Neville was silent a moment as he tried to remember what Islinn was talking about. Why would he bring Trevor? And then, he remembered. "Really?" he asked. She gave him a soft smile he couldn't help but like, and she nodded at him. He stood and as he made his way into the castle he stumbled a bit.
"What are you going to do?" Hermione asked curiously.
"I am going to try to teach Mister Longbottom how to… calm, shall we say, his pet toad," Islinn answered.
"Could you teach me too?" the brunet asked with a hopeful expression.
"If you wish me to," Islinn answered with a small inclination of her head. Islinn was rewarded when Hermione smiled widely. The redhead gave a small smile in turn.
A long time later found a secretly amused Islinn and an exasperated Hermione. At the moment, Hermione was holding Trevor, who was squirming.
"I can't do this!" said Hermione getting angry.
"You are not relaxed, Miss Granger," Islinn replied stepping forward and taking Trevor out of Hermione's hands. The toad immediately stopped struggling and Hermione glared at Trevor. "Allow me to work with Mister Longbottom while you calm yourself down," Islinn said and turned to Neville.
Neville looked at Islinn and began blushing. How was he supposed to calm down with her there and not asleep? What's more, how was he supposed to calm down while she was holding his hands? Why, in Merlin's name, was he even thinking about that!?
"Mister Longbottom," Islinn said taking him out of his thoughts. He thought she was really close but she didn't seem to be aware of it. "Do you believe yourself prepared?" she asked him and he merely nodded. "Very well, hold out your hands and attempt to relax," she instructed and he again nodded. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down as he held out his hands. He tried focusing solely on Trevor but then her hands were on his as she held the toad. He couldn't help it, his breath hitched. "Close your eyes and do attempt to calm yourself," Islinn said gently. He closed his eyes and again took a deep breath. He did manage to relax, if slightly. She slipped her hands from under Trevor and placed them over the toad, so Neville was holding him. Her fingers accidentally brushed his and his eyes flew open. As her hands slipped away they caught each others gazes. Neville's mind, for a moment, went momentarily blank, and it only seemed to register the small weight in his hands; however, he sobered quickly and began to blush. Consequently, Trevor began squirming, causing Neville to pay his attentions to the wriggling toad.
"Wow, you made Trevor stay for a little bit," Hermione said drawing closer.
"Y-yeah," Neville said surprised.
"Well done Mister Longbottom," Islinn praised quietly, confused at the feelings going through her. What had that been all about? Islinn pushed away the undesired feelings… for now.
"Th-thanks," Neville said sheepishly.
"Could I try again?" Hermione asked. Neville nodded and handed Trevor to Islinn. The redhead turned to Hermione.
"Make sure, Miss Granger, that you are calm. If it is possible, to try to detach yourself from any emotion," Islinn instructed and the other girl nodded.
"Okay," Hermione said after she had taken a few deep breaths. She held out her hands for Trevor. Islinn, little by little, put Trevor in the hands of one Hermione Granger. It was quite surprising when Hermione managed to keep a calm Trevor for a whole five seconds. Perhaps it would have been longer, had not her excitement taken over. "I did it!" she exclaimed. Islinn could have sworn Hermione almost kissed Trevor.
"Very well done Miss Granger, it was truly outstanding," Islinn congratulated.
"That was good," Neville said with a smile. Hermione simply smiled brightly at them before handing Trevor to Neville. Islinn checked her watch and realized she should be getting ready.
"I am so sorry, but I need to prepare for the Quidditch practice," Islinn said slightly apologetically, though she felt excited also. Islinn allowed a small smile at Neville and Hermione's grins.
The three Gryffindors made their way to Hogwarts castle. They made conversation as they headed to the seventh floor. Once in the common room, Hermione and Neville went to sit while Islinn headed to the girls' dormitory. Islinn put her things away before heading downstairs and outside to the Quidditch pitch. When she had arrived it was empty and she checked her watch. She realized she still had time.
Islinn was very excited, as in jump-in-joy and let's-do-cartwheels excited, but she repressed it. She decided to head to the Quidditch supply closet and check out her new broom.
When she entered the Quidditch closet there was nothing special to see. The place was a little dusty and it wasn't all that big. She looked around and only saw practice equipment. Finally, she saw them. There, against the wall was her and Harry's brooms.
She walked toward them at a leisure pace despite the fact she was jump-up-and-down excited. When she reached the brooms, she saw that one broom had Harry's name elegantly carved on the handle and the other broom had her name elegantly engraved also. With one finger she traced the letters of her name, liking the way smooth texture. She ran her fingertips down the length of the broom, as far as she could go without bending down, and she admired its built. Carefully, she lifted her broom and enjoyed the lightness of it before setting it back down.
"You're early," a male voice said. Islinn almost flinched at the sudden intrusion. Se whirled around, her body tense. When she had focused on him however, she relaxed.
"I would have thought you would prefer me to be early and not tardy, Mister Wood," she told him with a slight smile and raised eyebrow.
"As a matter of fact, I do prefer it," he said with a grin. He walked toward her. "How do you like your broom?" he asked and his voice indicated he liked it very much. Well, who wouldn't? It was a Nimbus 2000.
"I like it very much. I like its smooth texture and its quality build. I like how light it is and I believe it is quite nice to look at," she answered and added, "Although, I would like to hear the Quidditch captain's criticism."
"The Quidditch captain has no criticism to offer because he thinks it's a very nice broom," he said and smiled. Islinn returned it, though not as pronounced as his. Something then came to mind.
"I do believe we will not be using our brooms. Am I correct?" Islinn questioned.
"Right. First, Potter needs to learn about Quidditch," Oliver replied.
"That is quite unfortunate," she said shaking her head. Oliver then walked toward some of the supplies and motioned for Islinn to go with him. She looked regretfully at her broom before going with Oliver.
"So, do you mind enlightening me on what happened yesterday during you flying lessons? I've heard some pretty crazy stories," he said picking up a box that looked like a really big briefcase. They both then left the Quidditch closet in favor of the pitch.
"I do hope you do not think very ill of me when I am finished," she cautioned.
"I don't think I could if I tried," he offered encouragingly. She looked at him a moment before she began the recounting of events, though she wasn't very detailed about them. Either way, it seemed like he was listening raptly to her every word. "Wow… that sounds cool," he said once she had finished.
"Perhaps, but it was foolish and mindless on my part," she replied firmly.
"Well, yeah, that was dangerous," he agreed. "You're really lucky you didn't get expelled," he added.
"Indeed I am. I am also very glad about that, Hogwarts is a wonderful place; however, I think Miss Granger is correct, I was rewarded for my misbehaving," she told him.
"Well, still, I'm glad McGonagall picked you two to be Seekers because you both have the build of one," he commented.
"Is that a compliment?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah, I guess," he said looking uncomfortable.
Islinn smirked. "Let us hope that is not the way you speak to the females your age," she told him, her smirk more pronounced.
"What? Why?" he asked surprised as he looked at the eleven-year-old girl.
"Well, we do not wish for the lady to take a comment such as the one you deigned to give me the wrong way. We do not wish for her to be offended, now do we?" she asked and her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"I guess," he said slowly. Another amusing thought occurred to her.
"I also really do not think you would like to describe a lady in Quidditch terms," she said as some of the amusement she felt made its way into the statement.
"How would that work?" he asked curious. Islinn thought about this for a moment.
"Her hair as brilliant as the sun glinting off a Snitch and her skin as smooth as a brand new broom handle. She is as beautiful as a Nimbus 2000 and she makes you as happy as when you catch a Quaffle shot from the opposing team. Let us forget about comparing her attitude to a Bludger, shall we?" she said and smirked. Oliver looked at her a moment before laughing. Well, he never really believed her to be as cold as everyone made her, though that was probably because he'd talked to her before. Still, he never thought she had a sense of humor.
"You've got quite a sense a humor Miss Nimbus, but tell me, what was wrong with that description? It sounded like poetry to me," he replied with a grin. She looked at him amused and with a small smile.
"I do appreciate the compliment," she said before adding, "Well, I suppose it would sound like poetry to a Quidditch fan, without a doubt. Perhaps you and I could write a song, it would be most entertaining." He laughed again.
Not much after that, Harry joined them. The next hour was spent with Oliver explaining Quidditch to Harry and training them. Islinn occasionally asked questions and she had a lot of fun in the training. Looking at Harry, she could tell he was having just as much fun as her. She thought it was rather pleasant with just the three of them. She did see how obsessed Oliver was with Quidditch, but at the same time, she supposed it was a good thing that he was captain then. He would definitely drive the team. Islinn was awed (not that she showed it) when Oliver took out the Snitch. It was pretty and gold. Really, the name 'Quaffle' had always amused her, but it wasn't as amusing seeing one. The Bludgers were interesting to look at because they were restrained and they were struggling to get out. At this, Islinn smiled a little.
"The Beaters must find their position rather entertaining," Islinn commented looking at the Beater's clubs. Islinn thought the clubs greatly resembled baseball bats, but were shorter.
Oliver laughed. "Fred and George? Definitely," he answered.
"So," Harry began when Oliver was done explaining, "Quidditch is kind of like basketball on brooms and six hoops."
"Basketball?" Oliver questioned curious.
"Yes," Islinn supplied, "it does resemble basketball." Harry nodded at this and Oliver simply looked between them curious. 'Basketball' sounded like a Muggle sport, so he thought it strange that Islinn would know about it. After that, there wasn't much more to do, they were done. Oliver packed up the equipment and Harry and Islinn went with Oliver to put their brooms away. That would be the temporary spot for keeping them.
After Harry had admired his broom, almost in the same fashion Islinn had done, the three headed out to Hogwarts for supper. Oliver was being quite the talkative chum, but it was alright with Islinn and Harry. It was especially so when Oliver seemed so excited to speak about Quidditch and Harry and Islinn didn't have their hearts to stop him, not that they wanted to.
"Didn't know you spent so much time with first years, Wood," came a harsh voice. The three Gryffindors turned and Islinn shot Oliver a glance. She would have expected him to be embarrassed at being caught with the first years, but she was pleasantly surprised that he didn't seem to be.
"I didn't know you spent so much time watching me. How would you know who I spent so much time with, Flint?" Oliver retorted. Islinn quickly found she did not like Flint, and no, it wasn't just because he was very unattractive.
"Watching you? Don't think so high of yourself, Wood. I do have better things to do, like beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," Flint responded. Oliver tensed at this.
"Or so you would think. Doesn't quite help when the Slytherin captain isn't smart enough to come up with a good plan," Oliver said.
Flint glared. "At least I spend my time doing better things than hanging out with Four-Eyes and Carrot Head," Flint said meanly. Islinn was getting angry at this kid. He had no right to insult anyone the way he was doing. Really, not even Parkinson had tempered so much with her anger. Either way, she raised an eyebrow. Carrot Head? That was new.
"You don't insult them," Oliver stated coldly. It was then that Islinn admitted that she liked Oliver. He was nice to them even though they were first years; he was defending them.
"So what if I do? I'm not afraid of you, and I have no reason to care about Gryffindor first years," he answered with a twisted smirk Islinn didn't like. Islinn was now quite angry but was still able to hold her temper. How dare he? Islinn thought it would be a good time to show Flint a lesson. Not scared, huh?
"You are not scared?" Islinn asked with a raised eyebrow before Oliver could reply. Her expression was neutral.
"Of course I'm not! Why would I be? You think you're so great acting almighty and you four-eyed friend thinks he's so great because of a scar. It's like you both think you're so cool because you hang out with and older Gryffindor git," Flint said with a smirk.
"Well, if that is the case, perhaps you are not worthy of being a Slytherin, you are not afraid," Islinn stated. It was difficult to make Islinn lose her temper, but this Slytherin was succeeding by the minute. She wondered momentarily why that was. Islinn allowed a frown to mar her pleasant features and that was not a good sign. Oliver was surprised at the girl's taking over and wondered if that was good.
"How dare you, stupid little girl?" Flint said angrily. If Oliver would have had a chance to speak, he would have. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, he didn't.
"How dare I? It is simple really. I merely make an observation and voice it," Islinn commented, slight anger coloring her tone. She didn't know what people thought about her, but she didn't fancy herself stupid.
"Well then, let's make an observation on you," Flint said almost losing it. Flint was not a very witty person, and it was worse when he was angry. "You're hair matches your stupid House nicely," he said. Well, that was stupid, Oliver thought.
Islinn made a slight bow and smirked. "I thank you for such a compliment, Mister Flint; although, brave would be a most accurate description," she said and Oliver couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him. Huh, she's good. Might give the Weasley's a run for their money, Oliver couldn't help think. She definitely had the humor to do so.
Harry was feeling nervous for Islinn. Them two were only first years and Flint seemed at least to be the same age as Wood. What if Flint tried to hex Islinn and Wood didn't retaliate fast enough?
"Islinn," Harry said quietly. Islinn however, did not seem to have heard him.
Flint looked almost murderous. "Listen to me, you stupid little girl. You will not speak to me like that or you will be sorry. Why don't you and your bloody friends leave? You think you're so great? Well, I'll put you in your rightful place and while I'm at it, I'll do the same to Scarhead and Wood," he said and took out his wand. Oliver almost scoffed. Yeah, he'd like to see Flint try. Oliver was about to brandish his wand, but Islinn put a hand on his wrist to stop him. He was surprised at her strength. Curiously, he went against his better judgment and didn't take out his wand.
"I take back what I said," Islinn said and Flint gave a triumphant smirk. She continued, "You do belong in Slytherin. You are cowered enough to threaten a first year. I have listened to you and now you will listen to me." Islinn released Oliver's wrist and took a decisive step toward Flint. She didn't look afraid in the least. Her eyes were blazing as they focused on his. Again, not even Parkinson had made her so mad. She took out her wand but didn't point it at him. It occurred to Harry and Oliver that when older, this was not a person to cross. When she spoke, it was in a dangerously low tone. "I am not a stupid little girl, and you must not offend a lady, it is rude. I will speak to you as I see fit and I shall not be sorry. You will not insult, hurt, nor offend my acquaintances and I do not believe myself to be great. You will suffer the consequences of your actions if you make me angry because I am not afraid of you," Islinn said angrily. She was feeling very angry, in fact, she hadn't been this angry in a long time.
"Oh, a lady," Flint snorted but he was very angry too. "Of course I won't be rude to a lady, when I see one. You are most definitely not one. You're nothing but a pureblood wannabe," he replied. Oliver most definitely disagreed with that and was quite upset on her behalf. However, he was curious and didn't say anything. After all, if he was fixed with a look like that he'd be scared… if she was older, that is.
If Islinn would have been raised differently she would have given an enraged cry. Instead, she did something she hadn't done in a long time – she glared at Flint. Said boy seemed momentarily surprised at the intensity of her look, but of course, she was nothing but a first year. What could she do to him? Why would he back down from a first year? Islinn now spoke through gritted teeth. "You will not insult me thusly. It does not matter whether I am an adolescent or not, I am a female and therefore, I am a lady, and I will be respected. I am a lady who has proper manners and will not cower to the likes of you. If I were to attempt to act as an aristocratic pureblood female, my manners would not be as sophisticated nor I be as witty," Islinn almost spat as she thought of Pansy Parkinson. With that, she swiftly raised her wand at him.
Harry was surprised such a nice, albeit expressionless, girl was capable of being so angry. She hadn't seemed angry when she argued with Parkinson, nor when she had spoken to Malfoy that time in the Great Hall when he had thought they were getting expelled. In truth, this was perhaps the first time he saw any real outburst of emotion, and he found he didn't really like it. She was as good as Hermione, and he was sure Hermione knew a couple of good hexes. Although, he did wonder what it would be like to see her as happy.
Oliver on the other hand, was beyond surprised. She seemed to always have a response ready, like on the tip of her tongue. It was as if she were expecting that precise response. There was something else too. What had happened to the expressionless girl? He knew she wasn't mean or cold as people seemed to believe, yet this display of anger was… interesting. Of course, if she could display such fierceness on the Quidditch pitch during a match… oh, that would be advantageous. Also, what had happened to the girl with the funny sense of humor? The one he thought was probably as funny as the Weasley twins in her own way? Despite this, he had to admit she looked quite fascinating. Her usually nice features were still nice, but she looked quite dangerous with her brandished wand, which was pointed at Flint. Truthfully, if he ever received a look like that when she was a third year, he'd think before speaking. Of course, he could almost be sure she wasn't usually like this. Really, not even he could stand Flint, and he had an easy going temper… unless it involved Quidditch. Well, at least he knew now why she was a Gryffindor. She was brave, if stupid. She was only a first year –
"What are you going to do?" Flint asked mockingly. He raised his wand (Oliver couldn't believe he was actually going to try to hex her. He'd hex Flint first though) and was about to hex her, but she beat him (and consequently Oliver).
"Levicorpus," she said firmly though it was not said loudly. Suddenly, Flint was lifted off the ground and it was as if someone was holding him by the ankle. Surprised, he dropped his wand. Harry smiled, well, this was an interesting turn of events. Oliver was quite speechless. He couldn't quite believe what she had done… nor could he believe that she was that quick with a wand, she was a first year after all.
It didn't once occur to Islinn how foolish she was being using a spell like that. She was only a first year after all. At the moment, she was too angry to think about that. In the back of her mind she was glad she didn't use the Cruciatus Curse, because she was a good girl. She stepped closer to Flint, who was still dangling, and kicked his wand as far as possible out of his reach. "This is what I am going to do, Mister Flint. You will respect me and my acquaintances. I hope you are not a coward in your revenge," she stated simply.
Harry and Oliver were both shocked, but awed. There was more to Islinn than they had thought. Unfortunately, this had to be stopped. Both walked toward Islinn and Harry put his hand on Islinn's shoulder (albeit awkwardly) while Oliver stood on her other side. "Islinn, calm down," Harry said quietly. Islinn almost flinched, but instead she turned her head slightly to look at Harry and then turned her head to the other side to look at Oliver. When she had seen them, the anger seemed to leave her and she gave the other two Gryffindors a slightly sheepish look.
"I do hope you do not think I lose my temper so easily, but this young man… he is irritable," she said by way of excuse.
"Don't worry, we believe you about everything you just said, Nimbus," Oliver said with a grin. She gave a small smile and a nod of her head. Vaguely, she wondered if she could keep track of the nicknames. Well, there were only two: Arctic and Nimbus… aside from Idris, but only her Shadowhunter friends knew about that.
Islinn composed herself and looked at Flint, who was glaring at her. "Do think of what people will say about you if you decide to inform an authority figure that a first year did this to you," she told him expressionlessly as she abruptly cut off the hex. This caused Flint to fall gracelessly to the floor.
Oliver laughed before the three Gryffindors entered the Great Hall. "That was a smart way to get him not to tell," he said with a grin. Harry smiled. It was funny now that it had passed. "That was an interesting hex you used. It's weird though, you're only a first year. How did you know it?" Oliver asked with a confused frown.
Islinn thought quickly. She was now in a dilemma thanks to her stupidity. How was she going to explain anything without giving herself away? Well, here went nothing… she only hoped he wouldn't ask much more. "It was quite popular when my father attended Hogwarts," she responded impassively, but she was feeling nervous. She was quite relieved when he smiled.
"Well, you did quite well with Flint," he said. Islinn smiled a little but suppressed a sigh. Why is it that people seemed to praise her stupid actions?
"Thank you," she replied all the same.
A long while later Islinn was in the common room thinking away. So far, Hogwarts had been quite eventful. From going into forbidden rooms in the third floor to flying lessons that went wrong, it had been quite a stay. Islinn had always thought she had enough to deal with since she had responsibilities other kids her age didn't have. She really didn't need anymore. Still, she wasn't complaining that she had to be Harry's guardian because she had chosen to do so. Even so, she wouldn't mind having a normal, uneventful first year.
"Islinn," came a quiet but surprised voice, taking her out of her thoughts and making her stomach flutter. Islinn stood and turned around.
"Mister Longbottom," she said looking at a sleepy Neville with tousled hair. Something else happened to her then. Her heart began to beat really fast and she couldn't suppress the thought that floated into her mind: that he looked cute. She blinked at him a couple of times, trying to rid of the uncomfortable feelings.
"I-I thought y-you'd l-left," Neville stuttered. Islinn looked at her watch and realized he was right, she should be leaving. He probably hadn't stayed because like her, he was still processing what the heck had happened with the Trevor incident.
"I am about to," was all she said as she inclined her head. She walked toward the portrait, toward Neville. She took a step closer to him and curtsied. "I wish you a good night, Mister Longbottom," she said softly.
"Thanks, you too. I… I'll see you when you come back," he told her and he was blushing. Islinn was once again about to protest, but he said, "I want to."
With simply those three words he had stumped Islinn. She didn't know exactly what to say, or feel for that matter. She was flattered and something else she couldn't identify, but at the same time she felt he shouldn't do that. In the end, she inclined her head again and said, "Thank you, Mister Longbottom. I truly appreciate it."
He smiled at her and she gave him a small smile in turn. "Sure," he said shyly with a shrug. They shared a short moment of silence that was slightly awkward as they looked at each other – blue eyes locked on brown. Both had a very strange urge to lean forward, but neither gave into it. Neither was sure what would happen if they did lean in, but they both had a vague idea of what it was they wanted to happen. When that thought ran through Islinn's mind, she blushed unnoticeably and averted her gaze, breaking whatever it was that happened.
"I must go. Good night," she said gently. He bid her good night and watched her leave the common room rather confused.
Islinn walked through the dim halls of Hogwarts. They were quiet and she was alone. She was relishing in the quiet and the peace, trying to prepare for tonight's Shadowhunting – to see Jace. "Good evening, Miss Ignotum," someone said.
Islinn offered a small smile. "Good evening, Mister Weasley," she greeted the prefect. He smiled at her too. Islinn always (or ever since she'd seen him) thought he was so uptight – of course, she shouldn't be the one to talk.
"How do you like your classes, Miss Ignotum?" he asked her.
"Quite well, thank you. I enjoy my classes very much," she said as they walked. "How about you, Mister Weasley? How does Hogwarts seem for a returning student like yourself?" she asked pleasantly.
"It's good you enjoy your classes Miss Ignotum, that way learning the information is easier. To answer your questions, I find my classes quite interesting, and Hogwarts is as grand as ever, but it feels so much more grandiose when one is a prefect," he answered.
"Especially when the prefects meet pretty first years like yourself," a third voice added. Islinn's heart skipped a beat when she recognized the voice. There, stepping out of the shadows was Ian Hederstern, the cute Slytherin prefect. She didn't know why at the same time she saw him she thought of Neville and felt guilty.
"Hederstern," Percy greeted expressionlessly. Ian simply nodded his greeting.
"Good evening, Mister Hederstern," Islinn said with a small but neat curtsy. Ian smiled.
"Good evening, Miss Arctic," he said with an inclination of his head. Percy was surprised Islinn didn't seem affected by this. "Shall I walk you to the door?" Ian asked.
"Thank you," she said politely and nodded once. She turned to Percy and said, "I thank you for your company. Good night, Mister Weasley," she said and graced him with a more formal curtsy than she had given Ian.
"Good night, Miss Ignotum," he replied a little reluctantly. After all, he didn't trust the Slytherin with a nice and proper first year Gryffindor.
Islinn and Ian began walking in silence. It was so strange to Islinn feeling this for Ian and at the same time being reminded of Neville and feeling completely different about him. She was aware that she felt differently for both boys, but she didn't know what she was feeling. She admitted that she suppressed most feelings because ever since she was eight she had seen repression as an outlet. The only person she could tell was… not available.
"Are you really this quiet, despite the company you keep?" Ian asked not unkindly. Islinn gave a small smile at this. He was probably referring to Hermione… or Ron.
"Yes, I tend to be a quiet person," she replied.
"I see," he said sounding a little amused. The he said, "You know, you have been quite the subject of conversation among Slytherin since yesterday."
Islinn wanted to groan and roll her eyes, but she hadn't been raised that way. "I happen to know how quickly things are known here at Hogwarts," she said to him. He laughed a little at this.
"Yes, although, it's strange to see the different reactions," he commented casually.
"I would have thought all Slytherin thought ill of me," Islinn said with a raised eyebrow.
"It's surprising to you I see. I for one, do not think ill of you… and apparently, neither does Malfoy. It seems there are people like Nott, a first year, whom are quite neutral on the subject while Miss Parkinson and her friends seem to really dislike you. However, Marcus Flint, an older Slytherin, seems to despise you, though he won't say much as to why," Ian informed.
The last part made Islinn smirk. "Two of my acquaintances and I were stopped by Mister Flint as we were heading to the Great Hall for supper. It was not a pleasant encounter," she replied.
"I gathered as much. Apparently you were in the company of Potter and Wood," he said.
"Yes, and like a truly prejudiced Slytherin he insulted the three of us. I do not mean to sound conceited by any means, but I do consider myself to be even-tempered. It was surprising, even to me, that Mister Flint made me very angry; although, I did not fancy being referred to as 'a stupid little girl'," she elaborated. Why did she elaborate? She really wished she knew.
"He said that to you?" Ian asked and did not sound amused at all.
"Yes, more than once. He also called me a Carrot Head, though I did not see the insult very fitting. My hair color is not light enough to be considered the color of a carrot," she told him, and thought it was good that at the time she wasn't in the company of any Weasley.
He laughed at this as he waved his wand at the door. After the door was opened and Ian had put his wand away he spoke. "I find it amusing that you analyze insults to see if they are fitting or not. However, I do hope that you do not believe yourself to be 'a stupid little girl'. I hope you found it unfitting," he told her and his gaze was intense. She smiled a little at this.
"I did not find it fitting, though that comment and the way he insulted my company made me angry. I did however, manage to show him who the real fool was," she replied with a smirk at the last part.
Again, Ian laughed. Islinn subconsciously decided she liked his laugh. "I'm glad you did," he said. After that, they parted.
That night, when she returned from Shadowhunting she changed into sleeping clothes and brought a blanket downstairs with her. She was at the moment being warmed by the fire, the blanket, and the body next to hers, who was Neville. The little time she spent awake, Islinn reflected that perhaps Ian was different from the other Slytherins. He was amiable to her, he seemed to like her. However, she also found that though she enjoyed talking to and maybe even spending time with Ian Hederstern, she really liked Neville because even though he was in the dark about lots things having to do with her, he knew a lot about her. He knew more than anyone at Hogwarts… except Dumbledore.
***Please review and tell me what you think! Reviews make this author happy.