Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.
This story takes place after the war.
Evie POV
Waking up the following morning, I found a loud, intrusive ringing vibration through the air, rattling my ear drums, and causing me to wince and shudder out of my sleep.
"Mmph-Stop!," I sighed, pushing my face further into the sheets, finding that I was alone in bed, even though I was sure that I went to bed with both of my mates the night before. Waving my hand through the air, combing through the empty space, whining again as I couldn't find the fucking source of the noise.
"I GET IT, I'M UP!"
It was still fucking ringing.
Fumbling for my wand that was perched on the bedside table, on Blaise's side of the bed, and pointed my wand in the noise's general direction, my eyes still blurry and unfocused. I growled, lowly, "Depulso!," and I heard it whine and shatter into thin air.
A low chuckle resounded through the air, and I rolled onto my side, my hair messy and in its natural state - fucking ringlets everywhere, and after rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand, I saw Draco leaning against the door frame of the bedroom door, the sleeves of his school shirt rolled up to the elbow, and a sweet smell floating through the air, "You're finally awake, beautiful?"
"Mhmm," I sat up, my vest having risen in my sleep, "What's cooking?"
He glanced behind him, his blonde hair having fallen into his eyes in that way that had my heart skipping a beat, and rubbed behind his reddened neck, embarrassed, "Blaise is making you breakfast. I.. I don't really know how to cook, so I'm sorry, I wanted to do something special for you."
He did look truly perturbed by the situation, and I grinned, lazily, before shuffling out of the bed, my feet slipping into my koala slippers, and I straightened out my cotton shorts, before pulling my hair over my shoulder, and stretched, "It doesn't matter, it's the thought that counts, Draco."
He shrugged, diminutively, and I asked, "What's the time?"
He chuckled, "Quarter to 9, you looked like you needed to sleep in a little so Blaise and I let you."
My eyes widened, fractionally, and I said, "Class starts in 45 minutes?," to which he nodded, and I panicked, a little, and spewed, "I'm getting in the bath, sweet Jesus, do you know how long it takes for me to get ready?"
We spent majority of last night getting to know one another, while we packed up out stuff in our closets - Blaise, Draco and I all had our own, next to one another, each the same size, and made of the same dark wood as the table in the living room on the ground floor. Turns out there were three floors, all together; the floor above this one holding a spare bedroom, spare en suite bathroom complete with a toilet. Apparently that's where I could go if either of my mates pissed me off; there was even a separate password to the door if I needed, even though I didn't think that situation would ever arise.
At least I hoped not.
The bed in the main bedroom, the one I had woken up in, was a large, squared four poster bed with crisp mushroom brown sheets made of the smoothest, coolest, finest silk. The walls were painted a deep teal, with undertones and nuances of peach and light blue, making it look different when the lighting changed. The floors were covered with an Aztec brown, olive and cream prim shag carpet beneath the cherry wood bed frame. There were two bedside tables on each side of the bed, a nude lamp on each, the one on the left being Blaise's and the right, Draco's, both spelled closed.
The bathroom was covered with ceramic white; the toilet and the sink both made of the same terracotta alabaster. The sink was fitted beneath a full-sized mirror, which took up nearly an entire wall. The walls were all white, also, except for one of them, which jutted out, to some extent, and was a gem grey colour. The floors were laminated, and also a shiny, glossy, prim and proper white, reflecting the light from the bulb above it. There was no shower in this en suite bathroom, but there was one upstairs, however the bath was wide enough to fit four people, with enough room to be comfortable, and I filled it up, quickly, watching the steam swirl and curl in the air.
I had just finished brushing my teeth when a loud knock on the door frightened me a little, and I walked over to it, and opened it up, slightly, to see a worried Blaise, who's brow was furrowed, and I breathed out a small smile.
"Morning, mio amore," he whispered, and bumped his nose with my own. He asked, "Are you feeling okay? Draco said you were panicking."
Shaking my head, minutely, I said, "I'm just nervous, is all. Its my first day - I don't want to be late."
He grinned, "You wont be, Evie, we wouldn't let that happen."
Nodding, briefly, I turned towards the bathtub, and exclaimed, loudly, as I saw the water nearing the rim of the tub.
"Shit!"
Blaise chuckled to himself, before closing the door behind him, and left me to my own devices. I undressed, quickly, and slipping my pyjamas into the basket in the corner of the room, and I slid into the tub, wincing as the scalding heat tinged my sensitive skin, but once I became comfortable with the sensation, I sighed, and reclined, tentatively, into the tub.
Scrubbing at my skin using my baby blue loofah to exfoliate my skin, tingeing it an irritated red. The heat caused my chest to redden, simply because of the sudden temperature change, and after about ten minutes, I was draining the bathtub, my hair soaking wet and my body squeaky clean and smelling like a sprig of fresh mint. I waved my wand through the air, and whispered, "Scourgify," and watched as the air began getting thinner and it was becoming easier for me to see.
Quietly, I padded back into my bedroom, my robe wrapped around my waist, covering myself up, and went about getting dressed. I dropped the robe, for only a moment, before I slid into a clean pair of underwear; a black bra and a thin thong, which was uncomfortable as shit - I had to wear it because of the skirt I was wearing - underwear lines were embarrassing as Hell. All of a sudden, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, and I turned towards the door, seeing the shocked face of one Blaise Zabini.
It took me all of .5 seconds to grab the previously discarded robe, and cover myself up with a shocked squeak.
"Blaise! What are you doing there?," I asked, my heart racing. He blinked, then, coming out of whatever thoughts he was undergoing, and stammered, "B-Breakfast is done.. I.. Sorry.. I didn't mean to.." and his skin flushed slightly around the collar, his dark hair falling to cover his indigo eyes, and he promptly shuffled out of the room, radiating awkwardness, closing the door behind him, and as soon as I heard his feet shuffle down the stairs, I fell onto the bed, after mentally kicking myself directly in the ass.
As quickly as I was able, I slid a pair of black tights onto my legs, and slipped a pair of thin, black ankle socks onto my feet, followed by my school skirt. My shoes trailed behind it, and after I rolled on some deodorant and waited for it to dry before I buttoned up my short sleeved shirt, letting my hair down, and I began blow-drying it with a simple heating spell I had learnt from Cissy.
If I didn't pay attention, I would burn my hair, and.. There was just no fucking way that was happening, so it took a while, but not nearly as long as it did when I first learned about it. Once it was over, I shook my hair, running a thin bristled brush through my curls, and tied it up in a high ponytail, some tendrils framing my face, prettily.
Rubbing some lip chap onto my mouth, I stepped out of the bedroom, hanging the robe on the back of the bathroom door, and picked up my backpack from its place handing on the hook screwed onto the bedroom door. It was full of my eagle quills, fresh ink pots, books and supplies that I would need for my lessons today. I was inanely organised, and I always did this the night before I went to sleep, so there was no way I would get caught out in the morning.
Walking down the stairs, my arm cupping beneath my butt, just in case one of them were beneath the staircase, and they might be able to see up my skirt. Draco pulled me close, his arm wrapped around my back, and pressed a loving, affectionate kiss to my lips, and I sighed into it, my hands clutching his biceps, and feeling my heart clench in my chest.
"Morning, beautiful," he said, once he released me, leading me towards the dining room, a quiet Blaise already sitting in one of the seats, his food remaining untouched. My cheeks flushed, darker, at the sight of him, and I stammered out a pathetic 'Good morning', before sliding into the seat that Draco held out for me, and I smiled at him, in thanks, before digging in to the fresh blueberry pancakes, coated in butter and a large cup of cool smooth orange juice besides it.
It was delicious.
But of course it would be. Blaise made it, therefore it would be perfect, no matter what.
"T-Thank you, Blaise," I said, nervously, and he grunted, once, in response.
Maybe he didn't like what he saw, and he's finally realised how much better he was than me. That thought hurt more than I could explain, and I felt my stomach bubble with indecision and nausea while I tried to force down bite after bite of my breakfast.
Once it was finished, I grabbed my plate, against the insistence of Draco, who wanted to take the plate for me, and walked, shakily, to the sink, and washed off the excess mess, and washed it off with warm water, and hung it in the plastic dish rack.
"What's wrong, love, you look a little shaky," Draco asked from behind me, a light hand on my waistline, and a concerned expression written on his face. I stared back at him, my eyes unknowingly watery, and sniffed, "Nothing.. I'm fine."
His eyes widened, fractionally, and cooed, pulling me into his arms, "Oh, love, talk to me.. What's wrong?"
I blinked, a few stray tears cascading down my face, and answered, "Its n-"
He interrupted, coolly, "Say nothing and I will scream," making me chuckle, roughly, my voice thick.
"I.. I'm just feeling a little strange, that's all," my face still tucked into his shoulder, darkening the material with my few tears.
He asked, "Are you crying?"
Shaking my head, I wiped my hands over my cheeks, flicking away the tears, and stepped away from him, briefly, before smiling away the clenching pain that was grasping my heart. Stepping past Draco, I walked back into the dining room, if only to gather my backpack, however I felt a tight grip appear on the crook of my elbow, and I found myself hefted to face a stewing Blaise.
"Why are you crying?"
His tone was curt and to the point - no room for argument or displeasure. I answered, honestly, "I'm just feeling a little weird, that's all."
He rolled his eyes, and hugged me, quelling the earlier feelings of rejection that I was undergoing, and he said, his brow furrowing and his forehead creasing up, "If this is about earlier.. It's not because of you.. Its because I cant.. Control myself when I'm around you, and.. Seeing you like that.. It's hard for me to.. Explain, I guess. I cant focus around you, especially when you're.. P-practically naked."
His Adam's apple bobbed, adorably, and he pressed his nose against my pulse point, inhaling deeply, his hand tightening on my side, and a light kiss pressed beneath my ear. He pulled back, begrudgingly, and whispered, "If we don't get a move on, we'll be late."
"We have Charms first, with Professor Flitwick. He's probably going to try and make a spectacle of you - give the rest of the class something to fear, especially because you're new. It's annoying, I get it, but all you have to go is shock him senseless, and you'll be fine."
Nodding, I felt him grab my hand, and lead me out of the dining area, through the living room and, along with Draco, who whispered a quiet Nox, and swept out of our quarters, hand in hand, content smiles on our faces, love shining in our eyes, even though the cold radiating from the stone walls and floors.
-0-
"Class! Take your seats! Quickly!," Professor Filius Flitwick, a short, fine-tailored, suited and booted man stood atop a stack of thick, dusty book, his hair finely styled, his moustache combed, and his clothing fitted to his minute form. Dutifully, I did as he ordered, taking the only spare seat, closest to him, noticing the other students actively avoided my eyes, and it made the hair on my arms stand on end, in anxiety. It took a while for the students around me to quieten down, and I found myself feeling a little out of place, but I quashed that feeling, Blaise's words echoing in my head, filling me with an underhanded confidence.
The pretty brunette and the quiet dark haired boy from the train station, I reminded myself idly that his name was Harry Potter, trailed in last, and received appreciative, proud stares from everyone in the room - including the Professor himself, which made my feel a little uncomfortable, that I didn't feel the same level of admiration for them. Probably because I really didn't know what they did, as I didn't experience the War myself.
The black haired boy - Harry Potter - chose to sit by me, a cool glint in his eyes as his gaze slid over my nervous form, and the fuzzy brunette sat on his left hand side, sniffing in my direction, superciliously.
"Alright class, I understand this is your first lesson of the year, but I will not tolerate slacking! Today we will be turning vinegar into wine - Yes, yes, I understand, we covered this last year, but for.. Re-capping purposes, we will revisit this charm," he grabbed a pea-green bottle of vinegar, and poured some of it out into a transparent glass, then pointed his wand at it, and whispered, Wingardium Leviosa, so it levitated in the air, and concentrated on it, for a moment, before a lemon-yellow light burst from the tip of his wand, and swirled within the glass.
After it faded out, I saw that the previously tangy ochre liquid had turned into a dull red fluid, and he lifted it to his lips, and drank it.
"Wine."
He received a round of applause, and I joined in, lightly, feeling admiration shine in my eyes. He handed out glasses to each of the students, and poured a small amount of pungent vinegar into the tumbler. He glanced at the clock perched above the entrance and said, "You have twenty minutes to complete your task. If you do it within five minutes, you get an O. Ten minutes, it's an E, and after fifteen, you do not get a grade.. Go."
The class quickly went to work, and I stopped paying attention to everyone else. The shuffling of papers, the sound of flecking liquid, the annoyed grunts of students, the ticking of the clock above the door - it all became background noise to me.
It was all about me and my glass of vinegar.
I concentrated on the swirling liquid, finding the biting scent made my eyes water, slightly, but I got over it. The pounding sound of my heart tethered me to my spot, and I found myself becoming both numbed and hyperaware of everything around me
It didn't even take me half a minute to find the appropriate rope of magic that I needed to ascribe to this specific charm. I pointed my wand at the beaker, and inhaled, deeply, watching as the same lemon-yellow light emit from the end of my wand, and enveloped the liquid in the glass.
With my enhanced sight, I could see the exact point where the magic fused with the vinegar molecules, physically morphing the cells, and converting it into a thicker, darker fluid.
A distinct burst of applause brought me out of my own world, and the surrounding sound flooded back into my ears, everything else becoming more prominent in my mind, and I blinked, vacantly, for a few moments. Flitwick hobbled in my general direction, and waved his wand in front of my glass, and smirked as it fizzed in response. He congratulated, earnestly, "Well done. Perfect O."
Smiling in return, I reclined in my seat, and saw the dark haired boy - Harry! - looking at me out of his peripherals, and as he saw me staring, he blinked, embarrassedly, and went back to his project. It turned out that I was the first person to finish the task at hand, and I spent the following eighteen minutes observing and watching the rest of my class as it worked.
The dynamics of the classroom was rather.. Interesting.
The Ravenclaws sat with the Ravenclaws; some conversed with Gryffindors, but otherwise were nothing but studious, rule-abiding students and it was adorable. The Hufflepuffs were more displaced around the classroom, friendship groups being forced between all Houses, but Slytherin, who seemed unperturbed by that fact.
They sat together, in stony silence, working on their project, and seemed to be paying next to no attention to the other pupils in the class.
But after a few minutes of careful observation, I found that that fact wasn't entirely true. They were almost hyper aware of the rest of the class; they forms straight and firm, ready for the first jinx to be thrown, as if they didn't trust anyone but their own. The way they were sitting, they all had each others backs; the boys behind the girls, and as the podiums were raised in height the further back they went, the women were protected, as the men would attack first, shielding the girls.
They were all very smart; none of them asked for help, or any answers from either the professor, or each other, and it seemed like they would much rather do the shit themselves, and find their own niche in it.
And I found I respected them for it.
"H-Hullo."
Snapping out of my reverie, I turned to the person sitting next to me, who was facing me, a strange gleam in his bright green eyes, his hair exasperatingly messy, and his expression tight. Tilting my head to the side, a little, I replied, "Hey.."
"You're new, right?"
Nodding, I answered, "Yeah," I raised my hand, "Evelyn."
He smirked, and clasped his larger, calloused hand over mine, and replied, "Harry," he indicated at the girl behind him with his head, "This is Hermione."
"Nice to meet you," she said, as I removed my hand from his, and felt the remnant tingling of his dazzling magic shoot through the synapses in my palms. I replied, "And you."
"You were really quick with your charm," she stated, and I heard the undercurrent of jealousy in her tone. "Where did you study before Hogwarts?"
Remembering my false back story that Lucius and Cissy had told me I should tell people, I lied, hoping that I was being convincing, "I had private tuition. There wasn't any need for me to attend wizarding school until now."
It wasn't exactly a lie.. There wasn't any need for me to come to Hogwarts beforehand. I didn't have magic, ergo I didn't need to come, but now I did have it, and therefore I needed to come. She accepted it, with a quirk in her lip, whereas Harry simply stared through me, and asked, straight to the point, "You're friends with Malfoy?"
Nodding, stiffly, I lied, once more, "Yep.. He's a good family friend of mine."
He grimaced, slightly, and asked, "What about Zabini?"
Lying, once again, without batting an eyelid, crossing my arms over my chest, "I met him through Draco a few years ago, and we've been friends ever since."
Harry nodded, and Hermione chipped in and asked, rather nosily, if I did say so myself, "So.. What do you think about Hogwarts so far?"
Shrugging, curtly, I answered, honestly, "It's.. It's different. I like it here, though, its nice. It's a lot bigger than I'm used to, but I'm getting more comfortable with the idea."
And it was the truth.
It was a lot bigger than I was used to - this castle was bigger than the biggest shopping mall in my town.. Multiplied by three. The stone walls were a little daunting, but the tenderness that radiated from the 'quarters' I shared with my mates overshadowed any unease I felt from that.
This was fast becoming my 'home', and I would have to get comfortable with the idea.
And I was doing that fact, without even realising it.
Hey, guys! I apologise for the shitty timetable, honestly. There are no proper excuses, but I'm sorry!
Christmas holidays are here ayyyyyy
And I turned 17 yesterday ayyyyy
And I have a job nOOOO