Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this new take on the typical OC! I always thought it would be interesting to write from the perspective of someone who hated this magical world because she feared it, so I tried my best. Also, I adore George, so I figured a slow burn was perfect. Enjoy!
The day Jaime Collins received her Hogwarts letter was ordinary.
Completely ordinary. The twelve-year-old had returned from school with a remarkably rumbled uniform compared to the pristine condition it had been that morning. With her two pigtails askew and dirt smeared across her cheek, the young girl looked like she had been through the wringer. After growing bored playing with her friends on the playground, she began investigating the bushes for signs of bugs. She'd found three caterpillars, a worm, and a beetle. An impressive find for such a young child, she thought. Her parents would be amazed.
As she stalked up the steps to her childhood home, she noticed a small manilla envelope peeking out of her letterbox. Piquing her interest, she opened the mailbox and pulled out the letter, surprised to find that it was addressed to her. She never got any mail except for cards from her grandparents. And they were only on special occasions. The cursive green lettering increased Jaime's curiosity. Still looking at the letter, Jaime entered the house, paying little attention to her surroundings. Dropping her bag in the hallway, she ripped open the letter, the contents of which brought her world down abruptly around her.
Jaime was acutely aware of how her life would change from this instance onwards.
The day George Weasley became infatuated with Jaime Collins was ordinary.
Completely ordinary. It was the first class of their fourth year, in which George sat beside Fred in the middle of the transfiguration classroom, focused on his quill and parchment. Usually, they'd be at the back of the room mucking about, but Minnie thought placing them in the middle of the classroom this year would prevent further disruptions to her lesson plans.
Since it was only the first lesson, her plan was semi-successful.
What went unbelievably well was the fact that the twins were paying attention today. Fred and George diligently took notes on partial vanishment, which they wanted to incorporate into their latest inventions. George was so invested in his notes that he didn't notice his twin nudging him.
"What's wrong?" George mumbled, barely taking his eyes off the parchment. However, only when George looked back up at the blackboard did he notice that their teacher wasn't standing at the front of the classroom explaining the technicalities of the wand movement. In fact, she was at the back of the classroom.
Reprimanding a Ravenclaw girl.
George had never seen someone in Ravenclaw blue with their tie knotted loosely around their neck and parchment unmarked. The girl sat slumped in her chair, arms crossed, utterly disinterested in the lecture. Usually, a Gryffindor or Slytherin student was being chastised for their 'couldn't care less about the lesson plan' attitude, which made this situation much more bizarre. Unruly jet-black hair was pulled back from her face in a bun, a few wispy pieces framing her face. While some young men might remark on her gorgeous green eyes, that wasn't what (only) stood out to George. It was the fact that she was rolling them at Professor McGonagall.
"Do not roll your eyes at me, Miss Collins. I have asked you once and will not ask again," McGonagall raised her voice slightly, huffing at the young girl's too-cool demeanour.
"I'm not writing with the quill. We have this fight every year. Why does this year have to be any different?" Collins twirled a small object in her hand that George had been taught in muggle studies to refer to as a 'pen'.
Professor McGonagall rubbed her temple in annoyance, "This year, you will be taking your OWLS, which requires you to write with your quill. Even if they let you write with a pen, you aren't paying attention! While you may believe failing your classes will get you expelled, I am afraid that will not happen. The headmaster has guaranteed as such."
Expulsion? George sent a curious glance to his twin, who was gobsmacked. This girl wanted to be expelled! Was she mental?
"Fine," the girl bit out, packing up her things.
"And just where are you going?"
"To continue my education elsewhere," she backchatted, heaving her books higher.
"Detention, Miss Collins!" Professor McGonagall's left eye twitched in irritation.
"Yeah yeah, whatever," she muttered, exiting the classroom.
As the doors slammed shut, he couldn't deny that he was insanely curious. Who was this girl, and why on earth did she want to be expelled? Looking at his twin, Fred had a similar expression on his face.
"Okay, settle down," Minnie tried to regain the focus of the classroom as students began murmuring about the latest gossip that was Miss Collins, but Fred and George's short attention span had all been used up. Pushing their transfiguration notes to the side, Fred sketched out new prank ideas while George sat quietly, his mind preoccupied with a pretty girl in blue.
George was blissfully unaware of how his life would change from this instance onwards.
"I'll hang you by your robes, Collins! Why you little-" the sound of clanging and a loud outcry of pain stopped Filches threats. Jaime continued to run down the corridor, dodging students who shouted for her to watch where she was going. Looking over her shoulder, Jaime glimpsed the sight of the reanimated statue wrestling Filch. She'd figured she might as well put her reading to the test and had trialled a new wandless spell she'd discovered. Despite not being allowed to do wandless magic in the fourth year, it was the only magic she liked doing. Anything to do with her wand made her shiver in disgust. Cackling, she grabbed the corner of the wall, skidding into the next hallway.
Some of her best work, she reckoned.
Unfortunately, during her moment of glee, she'd missed the sight of the Headmaster and Gryffindor Head of House waiting patiently for her. They'd cast their web, and she'd fallen prey to the spider. Jaime skidded to a stop, early running into the pair of teachers,
"Miss Collins, up to no good?" Professor McGonagall commented. Jaime groaned, walking up to the teaching pair. Looking down at the young student over her spectacles, disdain radiated throughout McGonagall's glare and frown.
Jaime went to answer; however, Professor Dumbledore was quicker, "Whatever excuse you have quickly conspired, whilst I enjoy the extravagance of each tale, will be of no use today. You see, Professor McGonagall and I were discussing the recent scandal. Shall we enquire about your alibi during this mischievous event?"
Jaime nearly winced; however, trying to cover the brilliance of her latest expulsion plan, she blinked innocently up at her headmaster, "Scandal? My, that sounds dangerous."
Professor McGonagall tsked, shaking her head, "Childish is what it is. A student has sealed all the doors on the lower floors."
"Have you tried Alohomora?" Jaime asked with a sweet smile. She was so close to being expelled. She could almost taste the freedom.
"Of course, we have Miss Collins!" In frustration, McGonagall threw her hands up, "but the juvenile rascal superglued the doors shut. They had to be blasted off their hinges. The damage that has been done…"
"Oh my, who would have done such a thing?" Jaime enquired. The awkward silence and the raised eyebrow from both adults were all the puzzle pieces she needed. They'd figured it out. She'd expect nothing less from the bright teachers in front of her. "Fine, you've caught me. I understand if you have to expel me."
Filch bursting around the corner was the icing on the cake. His hair was more mangled than usual, and his clothes were tousled and ripped in certain areas. The night of armour got him good.
"Collins! You bloody Witch! I'll cut off all your toes and-"
"Enough with the promises Argus," Professor Dumbledore sighed, causing Filch to stop in his tracks. "Miss Collins, while I am amazed that it is only your second day back at Hogwarts and you have already caused chaos, your expulsion plan will not work. Your education is important, and silly pranks complicate your time here. You will receive Friday detentions from Professor McGonagall for the upcoming term until I say otherwise. In the meantime, I ask that you come to terms with your life here at Hogwarts. You never know; perhaps you'll remember these years fondly."
With a grimace, she snarkily replied, "I doubt that."
"Very well, I believe it is dinner, and I am famished. Run along, Miss Collins."
As Jaime turned away in a humph, beginning to walk down the left corridor. Dumbledore added to her frustration with his next sentence, "Oh, Miss Collins, that means the Great Hall. Your kitchen privileges have also been suspended." Jaime screwed her face up in anger and stomped down the right corridor, sneering at Filch on her way past.
"That girl is trouble, I tell you," Filch remarked, his voice dripping venom.
"We shall see you at dinner, Argus," Dumbledore commented, ending the slander of the young girl. Filch walked past them, muttering about the good old days when torture was used. Turning to Minerva, Albus sighed heavily, "Four years at this school and no progress at all."
"I've never seen any student hate Hogwarts more than her. Her hatred is immense and consuming. She's nothing like her parents," Minerva spoke with sympathy for the young girl.
Dumbledore nodded, "In her defence, she never knew them. She only remembers one life. And we destroyed any semblance of peace there."
"She needs a good influence. Someone who will keep her out of trouble," Minerva mentioned.
A group of Gryffindors shouting greetings at the two professors caught their attention. Amid the group, the three young second years also plagued Dumbledore's concerns. Harry nodded to Hermione, who babbled about a new concoction she'd read over break. Ron was trying to fix his hair, running a hand through the long ginger knots, when his twin brothers purposefully messed it up again with a laugh. George let out a deep, bellowing laugh at the threat Ron threw at them, while Fred blamed a first-year Hufflepuff bystander.
"Perhaps we can intervene." Dumbledore continued to watch the students leave down the hall.
After noticing his idea, Minerva scoffed, "You cannot force students to socialise with her. We do not subscribe to torture at this school anymore, Albus."
Albus smiled at her, "A Gryffindor will brave even the most nightmarish scenarios."
"Oh, she's a nightmare, all right," Minerva grumbled as she parted ways with the headmaster, heading to the Great Hall.
"Rather strange though," the headmaster ponded to himself, "her aversion to the wizarding world and yet her magical abilities are the best I've seen in fifty years." Reminded of his doomed mentee, Dumbledore became disheartened at the prospect that another student with so much potential could lose it to ambition and hatred. But he would not make the same mistake as he did all those years ago.
As George and Fred entered the dining hall, they were bombarded by people congratulating them on their latest prank.
"Way to go, boys!" A Hufflepuff cheered, patting them on the back as he headed to his table.
Fred grinned at George, who was slightly disheartened, "I told you the raining ceiling was good. You owe me two sickles."
"Yeah, you'll get your money, mate," George grunted. He thought the raining ceiling was too childish and beneath their skill set. But apparently, everyone had enjoyed it. Sitting across from Lee, the twins loaded on mashed potatoes and roast beef while Lee praised with glee.
"Brilliant prank, boys. Honestly wish you'd included me on this one," Lee said around a mouthful of green beans.
George, in the midst of taking a bite of potatoes, choked. Fred patted him on the back, trying to clear the blockage while voicing his confusion, "What'd ya mean, mate? You were in on it."
Lee adamantly shook his head, "Nah, you mentioned nothing about supergluing all the doors on the lower floors. Bloody brilliant, I say. The professors had to use Depulso to blow the doors open to even leave their offices. The look on Minnie's face was priceless."
Fred and George shared a shocked look before swallowing their food and explaining in unison, "That wasn't us."
"Of course, it was you guys," Lee raised an eyebrow, "you're pulling my leg, aren't ya. You're the only pranksters at this school that could pull something like that off."
"Just the men I was looking for." A voice behind the Weasley twins caused them to tense up.
"Professor McGonagall, how lovely to see you again!" Lee quickly tried to recover their tracks, but their head of house was extremely intelligent.
"I've just been informed that you two are responsible for the waterfall fiasco. Wonderful. Detention. Thursday for Fred and Friday for George."
"Oi," Fred called out, whipping around to face the teacher, "Why are we being split up?"
McGonagall gave a withering look, "Because together, the two of you are more mischief than I need in one night."
"That's kinda cruel, Miss," George remarked, swivelling to look up at Miss McGonagall with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster.
"Oh please, Mr Weasley, that didn't work when you were 11, it is most certainly not going to work now." Tilting her nose up, she stalked up towards the teacher's table, but not before extinguishing a fire caused by Seamus a few people down.
"Sorry, mates, that's brutal," Lee sympathetically said.
"Still," George inquired around a mouthful of peas, "She didn't blame us for the doors. So she must know someone else did it."
Lee studied them incredulously, "Seriously? You both didn't do that?"
Fred looked around before lowering his voice, "I'm telling ya. That wasn't us."
Lee slowly dropped his fork to his plate, leaning in, "Well, if it wasn't you two… who was it?"
The trio glanced around at the room of potential suspects. Out of the corner of his eye, George saw the Ravenclaw girl from earlier sitting alone at the end of the long Ravenclaw table, glaring at the food in front of her. She pushed the braised beef around her plate with her fork, muttering under her breath. She looked up at a student who tried to sit across from her, sneering at them to get lost. She watched as the first year sprinted away, nearly tripping to get out of the way. The Ravenclaw watched the student-run with a small smirk, her watchful glare catching George's gaze. Wild hair and a sharp look caused George's stomach to flip. She wrinkled her nose at him before returning to her meal with utter disdain.
Jaime was not pleased. First, she had to eat this ridiculous magic food, and second, her plan had backfired in the worst way possible. Stabbing the meat in front of her did nothing to alleviate the anger.
"Whatever that beef did to you, I'm sure it can explain." A voice belonging to Jaime's one and only friend, Leah Fawley, made Jaime smile.
"You will not believe the day I'm having."
Leah elegantly sat beside her, piling her plate with fried rice, "Considering you are usually in the kitchens on a Tuesday night, I can guess you're responsible for the glued doors." Grumbling at Leah's correct assessment, Jaime took a bite of her beef, chewing slowly. "I'm not going to give you an 'I told you so' because, at this point, it's useless. Though if it makes you feel any better, no one knows you're responsible for the doors."
Clenching her jaw, Jaime asked around a mouthful of food, "Who do they think?"
"That is a disgusting habit I'm hoping you'll grow out of any day now. But to answer your question, they think the Weasley brothers were the 'masterminds' behind the prank." She used air quotes to show how immature she thought the prank and said masterminds were.
Swallowing, Jaime narrowed her eyes at the sight of the orange-haired twins, who were congratulated for her escape plan, "well, isn't that just fantastic? Those dimwits couldn't even tie their shoes, let alone know what super glue is."
Leah chuckled into her rice dish, "they are far from dimwits. The only dimwit I know is the one who superglued all the doors in the first place. Do you know how late I was to class? It was really inconvenient."
"Original was more what I was going for."
"Merlin, you're hopeless." Leah nudged her with a laugh. "So, what's your punishment?"
Swallowing, Jaime rolled her eyes and grumbled, "Multiple detentions. And my kitchen privileges have been revoked."
"That sucks because I was going to ask for your famous brownies."
"Damn it," Jaime groaned, her head falling into her hands.
"This blasted school," Jaime grumbled to herself as she trudged down the corridor of the West Towers, pulling her jacket closer to her whilst trying to ignore the chill in the air. September was often too cool for her liking, and it only fueled her hatred of Hogwarts (which was lower than usual, mostly because it was only Day 2).
Stepping up to the enormous stone eagle that loomed at the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Jaime admired the artisanship of the statue. The intricate detail of the wings was her favourite part. Human art had always fascinated Jaime; this was the most 'normal' statue she had found since being at Hogwarts, thus, it was her favourite. Muttering the sweet of the day 'jelly slugs' with disgust, Jaime thought back to Professor Dumbledore's message. He had pulled her out of the only class she enjoyed, astronomy, to speak to her about an 'urgent' matter. Jaime hoped it was her expulsion, but that would never happen. Dumbledore had ensured as such.
As she entered his office, she stopped short at the sight of Professor Dumbledore and a young boy sitting in front of his desk. Turning in his seat at the sound of her entrance, Jaime could see a mop of unruly dark hair, thin wire-framed spectacles, and the lightning bolt scar. She'd heard of this kid. Something Potter. He'd flown a car into a tree the other day, which Jaime had admired.
"Miss Collins, thank you for joining us today," Professor Dumbledore smiled warmly before gesturing to the sweets on his desk, "jelly slug?"
"Absolutely not," Jaime gagged as she watched the animated slimy globs wriggle within the container, one falling on the desk and leaving a trail of strawberry-flavoured slime, "they're revolting."
Dumbledore chuckled a little before regarding the young boy in the room, who seemed stunned at her dismissal. "Of course. I figured as such due to your aversion of magical sweets. Perhaps, I should invest in these things called M n Ms from the muggle world. Apparently, they're very delicious. Anyways, as to why you are here. Firstly, introductions are to be made. Miss Collins, this is Harry Potter, second-year Gryffindor. Harry, meet Jemimah Collins, a fourth-year witch from Ravenclaw."
Ah, his name's Harry.
Harry smiled warmly at Jaime with a wide grin, "Hi."
"Howdy," Jaime said standoffishly. This all seemed fishy to her. Why on earth is she meeting this young boy? "What do you need from me, Sir?"
"That is the question, isn't it, Miss Collins? What do I want from you, personally? Nothing as of this moment. I imagine my answer will be very different in the future," he trawled off at the end of his sentence, glancing out the window. Jaime just raised an eyebrow. Four years at the school and this man hadn't changed at all. Still crazy. Turning back to her, he tilted his head to the seat in front of her, implying to take a seat, "At the moment, it is what I can do for you. And Mister Potter, that is."
Jaime refused to sit. Glancing over at Harry, who sat very still in his chair, she narrowed her brows. "And what can you do for me?"
Dumbledore looked exasperated, as if the answer were obvious, "Friendship and perspective, Miss Collins." In answer to Jaime's blank stare, Dumbledore glanced at Harry in question.
Spluttering, Jaime pointed at Harry, "Him? Of all people? Why would I need his friendship?"
"Sit down, Jemimah," The headmaster said forcefully, annoyed at her immature act. Harry flinched a little at his commanding tone while Jaime rolled her eyes, plopping into the seat next to Potter. Slumping in her chair, she pulled out some ordinary gum she'd procured on her last trip to the human village Hogsmeade.
Dumbledore rested his elbows on the desk, leaning forward, "It is of extraordinary circumstances that you are both at this institution today. You both grew up in the muggle world but had extremely different upbringings. Harry," Potter perked up a little at his name, "you, unfortunately, experienced the very worst of muggle care and comfort. A childhood that lacked the comfort and safety that Jemimah experienced."
Jamie glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye. She didn't know much about Harry Potter; she only knew that he won the Gryffindors the 'Hogwarts House Cup' last year, and their whole house wouldn't bloody shut up about it. But nothing about a terrible childhood. The boy curled in on himself a little at the reminder of his past life.
"But with that hardship, you have become a kind young boy. And taken refuge within our wizarding realm." Harry perked up at the compliment. "Jemimah, you were uprooted from a life you treasured and dropped into a world of unknown monsters and experiences that frightened you. They still frighten you, if I am, to be frank." Jaime squirmed a little as his words hit a little too close to home, "You continue to hate magic and isolate yourself from your peers. I had a student with similar hatred for others," Dumbledore paused nostalgically, "who grew into that animosity and cultured it for evil. My greatest regret is that I did not intervene on his behalf."
An awkward pause filled the room.
"Some people cannot be saved," Jaime stated with a tight smile.
Dumbledore nodded a little, acknowledging her truth, "Perhaps so. Still, I believe the opportunity for mentorship and support has presented itself before me, and it would be a waste not to follow through on it. So I expect you both to look out for each other. In fact, I expect Mr Potter to report to me weekly, ensuring you are 'hanging out,' as the young ones call it."
With a frown, Jemimah fired her opinions on the ridiculous situation, "First of all, this is absurd. If this is based on my lack of friends, then you are crazy. I've got friends." She emphasised.
"Miss Fawley is only one individual."
Scowling at his sarcastic (and very accurate) remark, Jaime continued, "Secondly, you have no right to force us to spend time together. I have no obligation to you or this ruddy school."
Dumbledore pursed his lips, contemplating his answer, "Do this, and I'll reinstate your kitchen privileges. You may also have an extra night in the kitchen."
Now that was a tempting offer. Jaime could really use that. She could even get the extra night without hanging out with the pipsqueak. First, she'd have to get herself out of these reports. She tried to manipulate the headmaster before her with her most charming smile, "Why is only Harry doing reports? It's not fair on him. Surely we don't need them."
Harry nodded, "I'm happy for both of us to do reports if necessary. But I promise we'll be fine even without the reports."
Dumbledore chuckled a little before looking at Harry and gesturing to Jaime, "What you'll come to learn, Mister Potter, is that Jemimah is a master schemer. If I do not stipulate for these reports to be completed, she will avoid you like the plague. And if she is solely responsible, she will fabricate the report to ensure I do not take away her entitlements. Unfortunately, this is the only way."
Jemimah slouched deeper into her seat at his truthful words. Unfortunately, Dumbledore was anything but a fool. "This is still so stupid."
Dumbledore's eyes glinted as he answered, "Unfortunately, you've left me no choice, Jemimah. Now run along back to your classes. Harry, next week I'll ask you to see me to discuss your fun mentoring. And Miss Collins, no threatening Mr Potter."
As Jaime trudged down Dumbledore's office stairs, she groaned inwardly as she heard footsteps after her.
"You're in your fourth year, Jemimah? Do you know Fred and George? They're my best friend's older brother." Harry quizzed her with a bright smile as he caught up to her side.
"Firstly, it's Jaime. Don't call me Jemimah," Jaime emphasised as they headed along the west corridor. She glanced at her watch and noticed she'd missed the rest of astronomy, her favourite class, and was now late for her first Defence Against the Dark Arts class with a new professor she'd never met. This day went from bad to worse, she concluded. "And no. I don't know this 'Fred' or 'George'."
"Oh," Harry said, quite taken aback by her rude attitude.
Stopping in the corridor, Jaime rounded on Harry, "Look, I'm sorry that Dumbledore stuck you with me. I hate this as much as you-"
"I don't hate this," Harry interrupted her with wide eyes and a kind smile. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise at the balls on this kid. Jaime nearly killed the child for stopping her. Noticing her angry expression, Harry uttered a small apology.
"Just don't get in my way, is what I was going to say. I don't plan to be here much longer. So don't worry about doing those reports because we'll never see each other again." Brushing past him, she was a few steps away before Harry spoke.
"That's not going to happen."
Swivelling on her heel, her jaw clenched at his voice, "excuse me?"
Harry would never admit that he was incredibly intimidated by the young woman before him because that would not be very Gryffindor of him, "Professor Dumbledore asked me to do this for a reason. And I'm not going to go against his direct orders. So, if you purposefully ignore me, I'll tell him. And you'll lose those kitchen privileges he mentioned. I'm sure you don't want that to happen."
Jaime slowly approached the second year, towering over him ominously, "Blackmailing me, Potter? You will live to regret that. I will make your life a living hell. That's a promise," she hissed, vengeance leaking into her voice.
Harry steeled himself, shoving his shaking hands into his pockets. Honestly, he was less nervous facing Fluffy, the three-headed dog, compared to Jaime, "Try it, I've faced much worse than the likes of you."
Her smile split her face, showing her pearly white teeth bared. Jaime chuckled darkly, "Game on Chosen One. Just letting you know that I've made Filch and McGonagall cry without trying. Breaking you will be child's play… and the highlight of my week." Glaring at him one last time, she stalked towards her DADA classroom.
Harry, heart thundering at her threats, watched her retreating figure. Testing his luck one last time, he yelled, "I'll see you in the library Friday night after dinner!" His brows lifted up in shock as Jaime flipped him off over her shoulder.
Jaime grumbled the entire way to the DADA classroom, cursing Potter's name to the end of the Earth. Approaching the large wooden doors, she tried to think about everything she would do if she were finally expelled.
Go back to secondary school.
Apologise to her old friends.
Fix her relationship with her parents.
Live a normal life.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door with a loud bang, interrupting the new DADA professor's lecture. All eyes turned on her as she trudged to the last empty seat towards the right side of the classroom. Slumping in the chair, she stared disinterestedly at the windows, briefly glimpsing a few students in the middle of flying practice.
"Ah, hem."
Turning her head to the front of the classroom, Jaime raised a brow at the professor, who was waiting for her to acknowledge him. With golden locks and brand new extravagant robes made of red and yellow silk, Jaime immediately recognised the man as Gilderoy Lockhart. Supposed to be 'genius.' Having read his books in anticipation of these classes, Jaime recognised the man for what he was… a fraud. There were too many holes in the stories and not enough actual knowledge backed by research, and most importantly, he had blatantly stolen the story of Sleeping Beauty and posed himself as the prince. Many of the magical community wouldn't have recognised the fabricated story; however, Jaime had watched the movie too many times and identified the deliberate theft of Maleficent's lines.
"What are you waiting for?" Jaime asked with an attitude, "a written invitation? Get on with the class."
Lockhart gazed at her gobsmacked however, the few snickers from the back of the class shook him from his stupor. "That is no way to speak to one of your professors. I am one of the wizarding world's greatest wizards, you should be respectful in my presence."
"My respect is not a given. You have to earn it. Elaborate tales won't suffice," Jaime stated, crossing her arms indifferently. She saw Leah from the corner of her eye rub her temple in order to alleviate her headache… which was probably Jaime at this point.
"Detention, Miss…" Lockhart waited for her to provide her name.
"Collins. Well, if I'm going to be punished for not addressing you at the beginning of class, I don't see much point in being here." While Lockhart spluttered that she couldn't do that, Jaime collected her belongings and walked out of the classroom for the second time in two days.
She was just collecting Detentions at this stage.