Nothing made Harry want to lose his lunch more than the lesson of Potions immediately following lunch break. The foursome entered the room to find Snape glowering at them from his place to the front of the classroom, curtains of greasy black hair framing a permanently displeased sallow face.
"Do you guys not have shampoo here, either?" Charlotte sniped irritably from behind Harry. Harry heard Hermione shushing the Muggle girl, and sighed. As much as he felt as if he could empathise with the emotional places she had traversed in her lifetime, the girl really really had no concept of when to keep her mouth shut. She'd been griping on about how primitive the wizarding world was since she'd arrived here and, frankly, it was getting a little annoying… Ron said she was just jealous of their magical powers. Harry kind of thought she had a point about the inconvenience of not using pens to write with. He did miss a good, shiny new ballpoint…
"Today," Snape drawled from front of the classroom. "You will be making a sleeping draught. Take care with the dragon bile – or the effects may be irreversible. Instructions are-"
He paused. Pointedly. And stared. Pointedly. At Charlotte Jones, who had put a hand in the air with the earnest demenour of a student innocently asking a question.
"Yes, Miss Jones?" Snape asked, lip curling unpleasantly.
Charlotte nodded, sweeping her fringe out of her eyes. "Why?" she inquired casually.
Snape's lip-curl approached sneer level. "Excuse me?" he softly and dangerously replied.
"Why will it be irreversible?" Charlotte pushed. Harry saw Hermione muttering something to Charlotte, which the muggle shrugged off.
Snape's eyes were glinting dangerously. He did not take cheek from anyone, muggle or otherwise. "Because, Miss Jones, dragon bile is the substance responsible for the sleeping effect of the potion." He turned back to the board. "Instructions are-"
Harry saw Charlotte's arm dart up again. The whole room collectively held its breath as Snape turned around.
His eyes narrowed. "Another question, Jones?" he whispered silkily, as if daring her to continue.
Charlotte flicked her ponytail back casually. "Well, yeah." She chewed her lip. "I mean, like, do you have any, you know, reasonable explanation for why it is responsible for the sleeping effect of the potion?" She looked around, apparently failing to notice the 'stop right now' warning look on everyone's faces. "Maybe, you know, an explanation for like hydrogen bonding between particles or something which is why it enters the brain and interacts with the hypothalamus or whatever?"
She looked at the teacher pleasantly and expectantly. A vein had begun to pulse in his temple. He looked like he was restraining himself as he swallowed hard. "The nature of magic needs no explanation to people such as yourself," Snape spat at her. "I suggest you refrain from talking about things you have no capacity to understand. The instructions are on the board!" He took a moment to glare at the whole class at a whole. "What are you waiting for?"
Everyone sprung into action.
Charlotte shook her head as she turned towards Harry. "Jeeeeeeesus," she drawled. "Someone's PMS-ing like a mega bitch."
"PMS?" Ron inquired, looking confused.
"It's nothing!" Harry and Hermione responded simultaneously.
Behind them, Charlotte was chuckling for the first time in what seemed like days. "You people are ridiculous," she giggled. "'The nature of magic needs no explanation' – what a cop out! Man where I come from… if only I could use that in my chemistry test answers, hey."
Harry shook his head at her, because he could feel Snape's familiar glare latching onto him, but he couldn't help thinking that she had a point. Sometimes it seemed magic was a cop out…
Later that night, they were all hanging out in the common room when Charlotte started whining again. Ron had been trying to coerce Hermione into completing his Potions essay. And starting it, for that matter.
"I'll pay you," he was pushing. Hermione was looking forcedly at her own parchment, a reluctant smile curling her face.
"Go on," he urged. "Four sickles an hour… Or six, if you manage to get it all done in an hour and a half."
"You realise," Charlotte interjected, from the armchair on which she had been dourly pondering life, "that works out to exactly the same amount as four sickles an hour."
Ron turned to stare at her. "How do you even know what sickles are? Dad told me muggles don't have a money system like ours - there's no way you can tell me how our money works."
As Hermione and Harry started trying to hush Ron up, Charlotte jumped to her feet. "Excuse me? Do you even learn maths at this stupid school?"
There was a silence. Charlotte looked triumphant.
"I mean, what would you do if I asked you to find the circumference of a circle, hey? Magic the answer?"
The trio continued to look dumbfounded.
"You probably think pi is something you eat!" Charlotte exclaimed.
Hermione kind of shook her head – she, at least, had completed year 5 mathematics. Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry clamped a firm hand over his mouth.
Charlotte knew she should calm down – these people had been very generous with their hospitality to her, they'd even helped her hurry out of the room without having to talk to Snape after the lesson… but she couldn't stop herself. She started pacing the room.
"God, none of you know anything. You don't know science, you don't know maths… You wouldn't even know how to explain the reason that your face would get bruised if you ran into a wall!"
"We don't need to!" Ron managed to protest. "We have magic!"
"Oh, magic." Charlotte tried to muster as much scorn into her voice as possible. "If I may be so bold, I'd say magic is a lot less useful than, say, the internet! I mean, what do you guys do if you need to find out information really, really quickly? Go to the library?"
"Yes," said Hermione, and something in her tone was fierce and ready to defend the library if the need struck.
"Google, my friends," Charlotte proclaimed. "You need to spell check an essay – we have machines for that, kids. Machines invented and made by other people like me! Proof of the achievements of humankind! And what do you have? Fucking magic. I bet you don't even have evil people, nothing to challenge your views of superiority-"
"We have Voldemort!" Harry yelled, suddenly equally angry as the muggle. "A bigger problem than you've ever had to face in your life!"
"Oh, Boo-hoo!" Charlotte sneered patronisingly. "What does he do – magic people to death? Big FUCKING deal. We have evil people like Osama, problems like North Korea… The things they could do to our planet would wipe out even you, for all your cute magical skills."
Ron also stood up, throwing his essay on the ground. "That is impossible!" he bellowed at Charlotte. "NOTHING CAN DEFEAT MAGIC!"
There was a slight pause.
"Shh, Ron," Hermione soothed, glancing anxiously at Charlotte. "She does have a point. Magic cannot exactly overcome a nuclear war, if it were to occur."
Ron looked disgruntled. Charlotte, suddenly, felt spent and tired. She collapsed back into her armchair, hardly even able to muster the energy to rejoice in her moral victory. "Stupid terrorists," she muttered under her breath. Somehow, she felt a little near tears. To her dismay she could feel a tear trickling down her cheek. She brushed it away angrily, when she felt Hermione's arms embracing her in another awkward hug.
"It's okay," the magic girl soothed. "This is probably very stressful for you but Professor Dumbledore will get you home soon."
Charlotte took a shuddering breath. "I-I know-w," she stammered, trying to get back control. "It's just that… Life's so scary nowadays. What with nuclear rearmament, and everyone fighting over religion, and stupid wars over whose race is more superior – I mean, what the fuck, I guess in your terms that's like someone killing someone because they are somehow less magical than someone else! Totally stupid…"
Hermione, Ron and Harry glanced at each other.
"Totally stupid," Harry agreed, hastily.
Charlotte yawned and stretched. "Anyway… whatever. I feel pretty tired. I guess I'll just, you know, go to bed now. Things will seem better in the morning. They always do."
Cringing at her awkward and cliché-ridden monologue, she climbed the stairs to the girls dormitories and waved her goodnights.
Then she stripped off the robes, put her running shoes on, jimmied open the window, and used a bedsheet to slide down the wall until she had touched down in the garden and could run off into the night…
Sorry if everyone is retarded and out of character :( thank you so much for reviews :D:D brighten my life :)