Ok, guys, I promised I would have updated a lot this week, so here is a new chapter. I'm working on the next, and I will update it within Sunday, cross my heart and hope to die :P
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Enjoy the reading, and reviewreviewreview!
Chapter 5: Exploring
The next morning, when I woke up, only a thin sliver of grey light was filtering through the curtains. I yawned and stretched , sitting up. It was early, I was sure, but I didn't know exactly how much. I threw a glance at the alarm clock: quarter past six. Well, I had plenty of time to get ready for school. I got up carefully, holding onto my bed to prevent myself from falling. I had a half-idea of walking to the bathroom without my crutches -it was next to my room, and I could have leaned against the wall if I needed support-, but then I resigned and shook my head: it was useless to try, I knew I still couldn't do that.
I took a quick shower, relishing the warm water waking me up completely, and wrapped myself in a towel, running my fingers through my damp hair and pulling at the knots in an attempt to tame it. I hated my hair, it was always so bushy and ruffled…I sighed and shook my head, towel-drying it and then stumbling back to my room, clutching to one crutch to keep me steady.
I searched through my closet for clothes, and then I realized something: I didn't have a uniform. I sighed heavily, chewing my lip: how could I be so stupid? English schools have uniforms! What the hell was I supposed to wear? I searched through my clothes for something which could resemble one, but I didn't even know the colors of the school. I scoffed, putting on quickly my favorite black jeans and a plain white button-down shirt; then I pulled on my old black trainers and went to wake Emma up. It was almost seven, and she needed to get ready.
I softly knocked at her door before pushing it open. I smiled when I saw she was already awake, sitting at the window and looking at the grey sky outside.
"C'mon, honey, it's your turn to the bathroom. I'll go down and make some breakfast while you get ready, ok? But be quiet: Aunt Elspeth must be still sleeping, we'd better not to wake her." She nodded and trotted quickly to the bathroom, barefoot and ruffled but with a huge grin on her lips. I smiled at her and headed downstairs, toward the kitchen, but before I could reach the door I felt the inviting smell of coffee and bacon coming from it. It couldn't be real…
I smiled and peered inside, grinning when I saw Aunt Elspeth already sitting at the table with a plate of eggs in front of her and a newspaper in hand. She grinned back at me, gesturing towards the chair beside her.
"Good morning, dear," she said kindly as I sat down. "Slept well?" I nodded, still looking at her incredulously. She laughed at my expression, and pushed a plate toward me.
"Why are you so surprised?" she asked, amused. "I just made breakfast." I laughed softly, shaking my head.
"It's just-I thought you were still asleep. I mean, it's really early, and…" Her smile widened.
"Dear, I have gotten up at dawn for my whole life: I can do more before eight o'clock in the morning than in the whole day. Now eat, come on: you are too thin, you have to put some flesh on those bones of yours."
I smiled and happily obeyed, taking a toast and a slice of bacon.
"Aunt Elspeth…" I asked from behind my mug of coffee, "What am I supposed to wear for school? I mean, ain't I supposed to have a uniform or something like that?"
She smiled, folding her newspaper and looking at me with a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Dear, how could we buy you a uniform if we still don't know which color it will have to be?" she asked, sounding like I was missing something obvious.
"What do you mean, 'we don't know which color it will have to be'? Isn't it supposed to be the same for all students?" I asked, confused. Aunt Elspeth shook her head.
"Well, dear, as you might have understood the other day when you talked with those girls, Hogwarts is a little different from other schools." I nodded, chewing my lip and listening to her carefully. "You see, we can't buy a uniform yet because we don't know which house you will be in."
I frowned: house? Ok, now it was a little more than odd. Aunt Elspeth laughed softly.
"Well, they call them 'houses', but they are some kind of…groups. They put students who have similar attitudes and skills in them, so that they can attend classes with people they are supposed to get on well with."
I was starting to understand, even if I had to admit I was a little more than confused.
"Don't worry, I spoke with your Headmaster yesterday, and he assured me he will explain everything to you as soon as you get there. Anyway, there are four houses -Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Gryffindor-, and each of them has its own colors, that's why we have to wait. They'll sort you in one of them today, and this afternoon we will go to the shop and buy your things."
I felt suddenly nervous at the thought of having an interview with the Headmaster, and I swallowed thickly, fidgeting with a lock of my hair. "Will it be difficult? And in base of what do they decide which house to sort you into?" I asked, worried. What if I didn't fit in any of the houses? What if they didn't want me and sent me back?
Aunt Elspeth put a hand on my shoulder with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it will not be that difficult or scary. The Headmaster, Albus, was a classmate of mine when we were in school, and he is a kind man. A bit eccentric, maybe, but he's one of my oldest and dearest friends. And the sorting is just an interview: they'll ask you a few questions, that's all, to decide where to put you." I sighed in relief, and just then Emma came rushing down, dressed up in her favorite strawberry pink hoodie, and attacked the food with an incredible voracity. Apparently, I wasn't the only one eating a lot those days…
She started to chatter happily about how excited she was about her new school and the kids she would have known there, but after a while I stopped listening to her, too curious about the few things Aunt Elspeth had told me about this Hogwarts.
I drank the rest of my coffee and got up, putting the cup in the sink.
"Aunt, what am I supposed to wear over this shirt?" I asked doubtfully before stepping out of the kitchen. "I mean, if I don't have a uniform…" Aunt Elspeth smiled at me.
"A black or grey jumper will be fine, dear." I nodded sheepishly and got upstairs to brush my teeth and get my things.
I looked at my pale reflection in the mirror and sighed: at my school in Seattle I had always been different from the others because of my interest in books and the way I talked, using words people didn't often understand; now I would have been different from the beginning, because of my crutches and the clothes I was wearing. Talking about blending in…
I shook my head and went back to my room, rummaging through my clothes until I found a plain grey v-neck jumper, and quickly put it on; then I grabbed my school bag and went back downstairs.
At seven forty a car horn blew outside of the house, and I smiled. I put on my coat, grabbed my bag and crutches and got to the hall, with Emma following closely.
"Aunt, we're going!" I called nervously. She showed from the kitchen door and smiled at us.
"Good luck, girls! Hermione, we have to buy your uniform this afternoon: can you meet me at Madam Malkin's shop after school? Xenophilius can drop you there when he gets Luna." I nodded and waved at her; then went out.
It was raining a little, but the drops were so tiny and inconsistent I didn't even bother to pull the hood of my coat to cover my hair. It would have been difficult, anyway, since I was already busy trying not to drop the bag off my shoulder every time I bent to lean on the crutches. Luna waved at me, and I smiled at her, getting into the backseat of the car.
"Hi, Luna. Hello, sir," I said sheepishly, looking at the man in the driver seat.
He was quite bizarre, I had to admit it: he was tall and lanky; his tousled hair, the same silvery blonde of Luna's, was shoulder-length and fell around his face like billows of candyfloss. He wore dark trousers and a shirt of an incredible shade of egg-yolk yellow, which seemed oddly bright in the dim, grey light of the rainy morning. His light green eyes were filled of the same vague, slightly sad kindness of Luna's, and they sparkled when he smiled at Emma and I.
"Hello to you. You must be Hermione: Luna came home the other day talking about you, she said you were a very nice girl." I smiled at Luna, who had turned in her seat to look at us. "Thanks," I muttered, blushing slightly.
"Daddy, we should go: it's Hermione's first day, we can't get to school late," Luna said gently, gesturing toward the road. Her father smiled apologetically. "Sorry, love, I'm too much of a chatter," he said looking at her with affection and starting the engine.
It took just a few minutes to get to the kindergarten, and Emma almost jumped out of the car, eager to go. I watched as she ran to join the other kids, under the vigil gaze of several teachers.
One of them, a middle-aged woman with short black hair and kind dark eyes, smiled at her and then looked at me. I was half in, half out of the car, not knowing whether I should have talked to the teachers or not.
"Granger?" she asked, gesturing toward Emma. I nodded quickly. The woman smiled reassuringly.
"Don't worry about her, she's in good hands." I smiled back at her. "I'm sure about that. Thank you," I said, relieved, pulling back into the car and shutting the door.
"You really care about her, don't you?" Luna asked, looking at me over her shoulder. I nodded, smiling. "Yes, I do. She's stubborn, cheeky and knows-it-all, and the most annoying thing on Earth, but I love her almost like she is mine," I said softly, smiling at the thought of our little fight about her coat the previous day.
"I think she is adorable," said Luna, very matter-of-factly. I laughed, grinning at her.
"Oh, yes, when she wants she's an adorable little girl, but try to babysit her for a whole afternoon, and then you'll call an exorcist to 'take care of her'!" Both Luna and her father laughed at my words.
"Well, wait to meet Fred and George, the Weasley Twins, as we all call them. Little Emma will look like an angel compared to them. There are no worst pranksters in the whole Hogwarts!"
We chattered lightly for a few more minutes, as Luna's father drove up a hill just out of the town, and when we stopped I widened my eyes.
At first I thought I was dreaming: in front of us there was an ancient castle which looked like it had just popped out of a history book or something like that, with its tall windows and walls of large, smooth grey stone. There were students everywhere around there, chattering or laughing as they walked past the large wooden doors of the entrance. I blinked twice, and smiled, still incredulous. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Luna asked, smiling kindly at me. I nodded, speechless.
"Come on, let's go: it's about time," she added, getting out of the car. I nodded and followed her. "Thank you for the lift, Mr Lovegood," I said, smiling at Luna's father. He waved at us and drove away, wishing us good luck. I swallowed thickly as I faced the huge building, feeling extremely nervous and out of place.
"You don't have to be worried, you know," said Luna, guiding me towards the entrance. I half-smiled at her.
"It's just-I feel like everyone is staring," I whispered. Effectively, many students were glancing at me curiously, eying my crutches and my clothes.
I blushed slightly and turned my attention back to Luna. I noticed she had a simple uniform on -a black skirt, a white shirt identical to the one I was wearing and a dark blue v-neck sweater, plus a black-and-blue tie around her neck-; I had dreaded worse.
"Which house are you in, Luna?" I asked after a while, curious. Luna smiled, smoothing her jumper.
"Ravenclaw, where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind," she said, sounding like she was quoting. I frowned, perplexed, and right then we ran into Ginny. The ginger-haired girl smiled at us, joining our conversation.
"It's from the lines written under our school emblem," she explained kindly. "They kind of descript the qualities you need to get into each of the houses." Ginny smiled, pointing at her red jumper and red-and-gold tie.
"I'm in Gryffindor," she said proudly, slightly puffing out her chest. "Where dwell the brave at heart. My whole family was placed in it. When I had to be sorted, six years ago, professor Dumbledore was incredulous. 'Another Weasley?' he asked me, widening his eyes. I was eleven then, and I was laughing so hard I almost fell off my chair." I smiled at the thought, and looked around, half shy and half curious.
"What about the other houses?" I asked, looking at the students walking past us in the large corridor. Ginny made a face.
"Well, there's Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal, but everyone knows all Hufflepuffs tend to be a little lazy. And then there's Slytherin." She spit it out like it was the name of a disgusting bug, and it caught my interest. "Slytherin?" I asked, doubtfully. Luna nodded, and Ginny sniggered loudly.
"Yes, Slytherin. Those cunning folks use any means to achieve their ends. Every single student placed in Slytherin is an arrogant, big-headed, prejudice-filled, mean bastard. No one can stand them, they are the worst folks here. Always messing around and bullying everyone just to hurt people. I hate them."
I laughed softly. "Well, I hope I won't be placed in Slytherin, then." Both Luna and Ginny smiled at me.
"Oh, we wouldn't mind if they put you in Slytherin. In fact, you could teach those bloody gits a few things about manners," said Ginny lightly. Just then the bell rang, and the girls ran away.
"Sorry, we have Chemistry in first hour, and the teacher will kill us if we arrive late. Good luck, Hermione! See you later!"
I waved at them as they ran away, feeling suddenly nervous again. I sighed and looked around, trying to find the Headmaster's office. After a few minutes, though, I started to feel lost: that place was huge! I sighed and considered the idea to knock at one of the classrooms' doors and ask for directions, even if it would have been terribly embarrassing. I took a deep breath and lifted my head to knock, but a booming voice startled me, almost making me jump.
"What are yeh doin' round here all alone?" I widened my eyes at the sight of the man: he was almost two meters tall, and huge, with tousled black hair and a long beard. He wore a coat so large I could have used it as a camping tent, and it was so long it almost brushed the stone floor. I looked at him sheepishly, feeling even smaller than usual. He observed me for a few seconds; then he smiled.
"Ah, yeh must be a new student! Only new students look so lost." He had kind, shiny black eyes which crinkled and sparkled when he smiled. "Yeh are looking for the Headmaster's office, aren't yeh?" I nodded, still not trusting myself to speak. "C'mon, I'll show yeh the way," he said, patting my shoulder with a large hand.
"Oh, I haven't introduced meself: I'm Rubeus Hagrid, the keeper o' the school," he said brightly, guiding me through the corridors. "But all students here call me just Hagrid." I smiled at him. "I'm Hermione Granger." Hagrid looked at me in surprise.
"Granger? Like, Mark Granger? The Mark Granger who came to stay with ol' Elspeth when he was a kid?" I nodded, a little wave of sadness squeezing my heart. "Yes. I'm his daughter." Hagrid laughed.
"I remember yer father: we used to be friends when we were young. Good lad he was, very good lad. Always lost in his thoughts, but kind like no 'un else." I smiled: everyone seemed to like my father there. I was happy all of his old mates remembered him that way.
"Well, this is Dumbledore's office. I guess I'll see yeh round school, Hermione. Good luck with yer sortin'!"
I hoped all of those good lucks would have some effect…I tentatively knocked at the tall wooden door, and waited for a few seconds.
"Come in," said a kind voice from the inside. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open with my shoulder, not daring loosening my hold on my crutches when my legs were so shaky from nervousness.
The office was small, and filled with the strangest items: scales, phials of various shapes filled with brightly colored fluids, sextants, alembics, and dozens of other things I didn't recognize, some in brass, some in pewter, some in what looked like silver.
The man sitting at the desk was just as unusual as all of those things around the room: he was tall, thin and old, with silvery hair and beard which were both long enough to tuck into his belt; his nose was long and crooked, as though it had been broken several times, and his blue eyes were bright and sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles.
Ok, Aunt Elspeth had told me that the Headmaster was a little eccentric, but this man was the strangest thing I had ever seen in my whole life!
I waited for a moment, hesitating on the threshold. "Miss Granger, I presume?" he asked politely, smiling at me. I nodded. "Yes, sir," I said, trying to straighten my back.
"Have a seat, have a seat."
I stumbled forward and sat down, putting my bag and crutches on the floor. "I heard you have arrived not long ago from the States," he said kindly. I nodded again, trying to smile. "I know the sad circumstances which brought you here, and I'm very sorry for your loss."
I looked at him, surprised: he actually looked sad. Much more than all of those hypocrites at the funeral.
"Anyway, Miss Granger, I can't help being impressed by your school results: high marks in every subject, top student of your year, winner of a national debate competition…You must be a very clever girl." I blushed slightly at his words.
"I just like to learn," I said honestly, fidgeting with my hands. Back at school people said I did all that studying just to feel above the others, but there was no competition in what I did. I just liked it. The professor nodded, smiling.
"I believe you, Miss Granger, I believe you. Now, do you know about the particular system we adopt at this school?" I chewed my lip nervously.
"Not exactly," I admitted, lowering my gaze. "Just a few things other students told me." He nodded and turned, pointing at the large emblem hung on the wall behind his desk.
"You see, Miss Granger, this is Hogwarts' symbol."
It was a shield divided in four section, each of which had a different animal in it.
"The crow represents the House of Ravenclaw; the snake the house of Slytherin, the badger is for Hufflepuff, and the lion is for Gryffindor. Each of our students is, we could say, sorted in a house, in base of their specific skills, so that they can belong to a group of people with similar characteristics."
I nodded, starting to understand. There was a parchment hung below the emblem, with some kind of poem written on it.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindor apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
It was really strange, but I liked it. I just wondered how they could be sure whether they put you in the right house or not.
"So, Miss Granger, we already know you have a quick intelligence and a brilliant mind, and you love learning. Any house would be happy to welcome you, but…I don't know…You would fit well in Ravenclaw, but I think there could be more…" The Headmaster looked at me thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then, after a while, he spoke again.
"You see, Miss Granger, I think that it needs a great strength to face up to a tragedy like the one you had just been through; and I think that it needs even more to accept to move to another Country, leaving your home, just to stick with your loved ones." He knew of the situation, of course. I wondered if he had somehow talked to Anne White and acknowledged the fact that I had rather left everything I had behind than being separated from Emma…
"You are brave, I can see it in your eyes, and in the way you have straightened yourself when you came in my office. And also proud, I would say, by the way you hold yourself. So, I think it leaves me just one choice…"
I considered it quickly: strength, bravery, pride…There was only a house which asked for those things. I smiled, knowing the answer yet.
"I'm pleased to put you in the house of Gryffindor, Miss Granger. I have the feeling that you will bring great honor to it." He outstretched a hand, and I shook it, smiling.
"Thank you," I said, feeling light and, somehow, happy. Like I knew it was a right thing for me to be sorted in that house.
There was a soft knock at the door, and a woman came in. She was tall and thin, and pretty severe-looking. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her dark grey eyes were studying me behind her square glasses.
"Oh, Professor McGonagall, I was about to come for you," said the Headmaster, standing up. "You see, this young lady," he gestured toward me, "Has just been sorted in your house. A brilliant young lady, if I may say, a great addition to Gryffindor." The woman looked at me, a small smile tilting up her lips.
"You are Miss Granger, I presume. We were informed of your arrival. I'm Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor. I teach English here at school." I immediately lit up: English was one of my favorite subjects, I absolutely loved it.
"So, Professor, I think you should show Miss Granger her surroundings, and meanwhile explain her our rules and such. You are much better at this than I am: I would end up talking about our sport teams, or the choir, or about how good are our cooks," said the Headmaster, sitting back in his chair. Professor McGonagall smiled and gestured towards the door.
"Shall we go, Miss Granger?" she asked.
I nodded, throwing my bag on my shoulder and grabbing the back of the chair to support me as I got to my feet and took my crutches. The professor widened her eyes a little as she saw them, but, thankfully, she didn't say anything. I was tired of people pitying me: poor girl this, poor girl that…I hated it, and I hated them when they thought I couldn't do things by myself.
"Goodbye, Professor Dumbledore," I said, politely bowing my head and following Professor McGonagall out in the corridors.
"You see, Miss Granger, while you are here at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour."
I listened to Professor McGonagall carefully as she led me through the corridors.
"Disobeying rules also involves detention, which you will serve here at school, under the supervision of a teacher, a Prefect or one of the Heads Students. I think it's not necessary to mention that every form of violence is severely prohibited."
We passed a tall wooden door, and Professor McGonagall gestured toward it. "That is the Great Hall, where you will have lunch with your classmates at the Gryffindor table." I peeked inside as we walked by, and I saw a large room with tall windows and four long tables.
The Professor also showed me the infirmary, the library -which had the most impressive collection of books I had ever seen- and the football pitch, just behind the castle.
The more I saw, the more bewildered I became.
She also told me about the history of the school: it was a castle during late Mid Age, and it was converted to a school in the early 1800s. Hogwarts had been there since then, with the tradition of the houses and everything else.
Finally, after a hour or so of leading me around, Professor McGonagall stopped by her office and handed me a few papers.
"So, Miss Granger, this is a map of the school, in case you get lost -a thing that can happen frequently during the first days-, and this is your schedule. Lessons start at eight o'clock every morning and end at four pm."
"There is an hour of break for lunch from noon to one pm; you can spend it in the Great Hall, in the gardens, or in the library if you prefer, but I shall remember you that you are not allowed to bring food in the area. As a seventh former, you may choose among a few possible classes for your fourth and seventh hour."
I looked at the form she was holding: English, History, Trigonometry, Chemistry, Latin. I had attended all of those classes in Seattle, and I had top marks in all of them, so it shouldn't have been a big deal.
The optional classes, though, were pretty unusual: Botanic, Zoology, Art Languages, Astronomic Studies. Back in my old school the choice was between Gym or a free period of studying! All of those classes seemed so interesting…I would have liked to take them all -a thing I obviously couldn't do-.
"I think I'll sign up for Botanic in fourth hour and Art Languages in seventh," I said after a few seconds of considering my possibilities. Professor McGonagall seemed pleased, and wrote something down on another form; then she smiled, handing me a third paper.
"This is a list of the textbooks and the other items you will need; you can find everything downtown. Now, go: third hour is about to start, and you might not want to arrive late. Good luck, Miss Granger." I smiled, muttered a "Thank you," and went out in the empty corridor.
I drew in a deep breath and chewed my lip: third hour was Trigonometry, in classroom eleven. I looked around doubtfully, not knowing where to go, and after a few seconds I gave up, laying my crutches against the wall and unfolding the map Professor McGonagall gave me. I looked at it for a while, carefully memorizing the way; then I put it back in my bag and stumbled along the corridor.
I noticed there were no electric lights, but only lanterns and torches hung at a regular distance on the stone walls. The quivering light of the flames created faint shadows in the corner, adding to the mystery of that place. I smiled, enjoying the silence of the empty corridors and keeping an eye on the brass numbers hung on the dark wooden doors of the classrooms.
Classroom 14…13…12…Finally I got to classroom eleven, and I leaned against the wall opposite to the door, waiting for the bell to ring. I was nervous, I had to admit it: I didn't know anyone there, except Ginny and Luna, but they were not in my year; I would have had to face a whole classroom filled with people who would have asked questions and stared endlessly.
My stomach flipped backwards at the thought, and I felt nausea crawling in my stomach. I clenched my teeth and straightened my back, fighting it back. I was a Gryffindor, I would have been worth of the name of my freshly joined house. If they stare, you stare back, I told myself, just as the bell rang, echoing in the corridors. After a few seconds the students started to get out of the classroom, and as soon as everyone seemed to be out I walked in, trying to look calm and determined, though my knees were buckling from nervousness.
At first, when I walked in, I didn't see anyone. Where was the teacher? I would have seen him if he came out with the students…
"You are Miss Granger, I presume?" asked a high-pitched voice. I looked down, surprised, and saw a small old man standing by the teacher's desk, looking kindly at me. The reason I hadn't seen him before was because he was short. And I don't mean normally short, but short. So short the top of his head was levelled with the desks. He had a long white beard -it seemed to be a pretty common thing among the teachers at that school- and crinkled, sparkling blue eyes. I nodded with a half-smile.
"Yes, sir, I am." He smiled at me. "I'm Professor Flitwick," he said, puffing out his chest proudly. "Trigonometry teacher and Head of the house of Ravenclaw. May I ask where you have been sorted?" I chewed my lip for a moment.
"Gryffindor," I said finally, with a small hint of pride. The Professor nodded happily.
"Good, good. Now, have a seat. Your classmates should arrive here in a few minutes." I gave him a small nod and sat in a desk by one of the tall windows. It was raining heavily, and the stained glass was covered in shiny cobwebs of raindrops which shifted every few seconds as the water ran down, creating intricate patterns.
It was warm in the classroom, due to the fire burning in the large fireplace in the back of the room -evidently there was no electricity in the castle, but I had to admit that I liked it; besides, the fire was much more effective than the average heating-, so I took off my grey jumper, folding it neatly on the back of my chair. Luckily, my clothes were not much different from the ones of the other students -black trousers or skirts, and white shirts-; without the jumper I could almost pass as one of them. Almost.
I sighed, taking a pen and a notebook from my bag, and began to doodle absentmindedly on the blank sheet of paper, waiting for my personal little Hell to break loose.
Ron's POV:
When I opened my eyes, my room was almost dark, lit only by a dim, grey glow. It looked like it was awfully early -dawn, maybe-, so I rolled over in my bed, determined to try to sleep a little more.
Just then I focused on the hands of my watch, and I jumped up immediately: eight fifty! How could I sleep so late? And why hadn't anyone woken me?
I ran to the bathroom, quickly washing my face an brushing my teeth; then I jumped into my school uniform, cursing under my breath.
"Bloody hell, one would think that with six siblings and both of your parents in the house someone would wake him, instead no, no one does! Hell, hell, hell!"
I threw my golden-and-red Gryffindor tie around my neck, not even bothering to tie it together; pushed a jumper over my head and stumbled downstairs, grabbing my schoolbag in the process. My mother, who was in the kitchen washing the dishes, looked at me in shock.
"Ron? What are you doing here at this time?" she asked, too surprised to get angry at me. "I slept in, no one woke me up! I'm late!" I said, breathless, tripping and clutching to a chair before I fell.
"Dad is gone yet, isn't he?" I asked with a grimace. I saw the slightly worried expression on my mother's face and groaned, rushing to the door. No lift to school, I should have had to make it on foot.
I put on my old coat and grabbed a large umbrella, which would have -hopefully- partially shielded me from the pouring rain. "Bye, Mum!" I called, running out. Bloody hell, it was freezing! And it was a two-and-a-half-miles-long run to the school. Still cursing my brothers, I took a short cut through the hills, running as fast as I could. I was a good runner, thanks to all the sport I was making lately, but it took me more than half an hour to get to school.
By that time I was breathless, and I had mud all over my shoes. I shrugged and stumbled in, looking at the big clock in the Entrance Hall: nine forty. Professor Binn, the History teacher, would have never let me in the class at that time; so I sat down on the cold floor, breathing deeply to calm the ragged beating of my heart.
Then I rummaged through my schoolbag and ripped a blank sheet from my notebook, attempting to clean a little my already battered trainers, without much success. Well, at least they didn't look two blocks of mud anymore. I went to my locker, stuffing my coat and umbrella inside it and taking my Trig book; then I waited patiently in the empty corridor.
When the bell rang, a few minutes later, I sighed and ran to classroom 11. Professor Flitwick would have killed me if I arrived late for the third time in a row. I stopped in front of the door, pushed my jumper into the bag and opened it, peeking inside. Seemed I was the last one -as always-. I smiled apologetically.
"Morning, Professor," I muttered, grinning. Professor Flitwick sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Come in, Mr Weasley," he said, shaking his head dramatically. "Glad you decided to join us." I felt my ears turning slightly pink, but I nodded and headed to my usual seat, the last desk by the window, scowling at Harry, who was sniggering from his seat, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Then I saw her.
She was sitting at the desk in front of mine, and she was looking down, doodling on her notebook. Her hair, of a shiny chestnut color, was tousled and bushy, and it fell on her shoulders and back in a gorgeous dark waterfall of ringlets; she was small and thin, the pale skin of her hands stretched over her slender bones, and she was slightly hunched in her seat, like she was trying to hide, or to go unnoticed. Like it was possible not to notice her…
I saw no tie around her neck, no indications of the house she was in, like she belonged to none.
Or like she had just been sorted.
I knew she was the new girl, I had never seen her around here.
I slipped in my seat and eyed her curiously, hoping she would turn a little so I could see her face, her eyes. I was curious: which house was she in? We had Trigonometry with Ravenclaw and a few Hufflepuffs, so she couldn't be a Slytherin. She didn't look like a Hufflepuff, though -for some reason everyone from hat house was bubbly and outgoing, and by the way she was sitting, occupying the less space possible in her desk and looking almost like she was trying to blend in with the surroundings, I assumed she wasn't-.
Something light hit my arm, and I quickly took the small ball of paper, unwrapping it. I immediately recognized Harry's messy, sharp handwriting.
What r u staring at?
Hell, so he had noticed.
Nothing, I scribbled in a hurry, sending the note back to his owner.
After a minute it came back to me, and I scowled at Harry: if Flitwick caught me exchanging notes with someone, he would have sent me to detention without thinking twice. And then Mom would have killed me for good. I read quickly, and I blushed slightly.
New girl's pretty.
I sent Harry a venomous glare and hid the note under my desk, pretending to follow the lesson, even if I didn't understand anything Flitwick was saying. My gaze wandered back to the new girl, and I smiled. She was looking out of the window, apparently bored by what the professor was doing, and I saw her scoff slightly, drumming her fingers on her desk. Maybe she wasn't in Ravenclaw, either: all of those crow-students were obsessed with 'the importance of knowledge' and such codswallop, and they would have never gotten distracted during a lesson of their Head.
I gave up trying to listen to the teacher's lesson and spent the rest of the hour watching her, wondering again in which house she had been put in. I hoped she was in Gryffindor. I really hoped she was in Gryffindor.