Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created sorely to satisfy my imagination. Harry Potter and anything/everything related to the novels belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing in this fanfic that might be recognizable as belonging to the canon of HP.

Chapter 6: Descriptions

A headache was soon to invade my head as I walked toward Charms on the day of the very first Slug Club reunion. I was looking forward to it, even as at the current moment all I wanted to do was just give up on life and walking, and let myself fall to the stone floor. A week, I think, would be a good amount of time for me to just lay down doing nothing.

I dragged myself to class, a roll of parchment clutched in my hand. My book bag swayed heavily on my shoulder, making me slouch more than I normally did walking around the castle hallways. In my other hand I had a third year Charms textbook, opened in one of the last pages as I tried to learn the lesson and walk down a short flight of stairs. Good thing I was naturally good at multitasking, if not I would had rolled down to class.

As I read, the anticipated headache took over me, making me stop walking. I had not even finished reading a paragraph when something in me popped, and I instantly learned to perfection what I had been trying to learn. Catching up to a couple classes was a good challenge, but trying to catch up to six years of seven different magical classes was mental. I'm sure that should I been a normal witch, Dumbledore would have had me being privately tutored in someone's house. But since I had at my disposal blood knowledge, the Headmaster just threw me into Hogwarts, and abandoned me.

I had to thank the portrait. It was thanks to him that I was able to just read what a spell does and instantly be able to do it to perfection. During his time, the man in the portrait had made it so all that he knew would be kept in his blood; to pass it down, his ancient knowledge. Now here in 1976, I was lost in a world I did not know, with blood filled to the brim with knowledge waiting to be rediscovered.

I was stuck trying to do the impossible.

Gripping a roll of parchment in my hand again and closing the book, I again, resisted the urge to slack off, let my book bag fall and follow it down. My mind was exhausted. I had spent all night learning lesson after lesson just so I could turn in the day's homework. I would have to be a fool not to turn it in.

In my slow procession to Charms, a flock of Slytherins had passed me by. They were being tailed by the sixth year prefects, as they talked in tones I though should be hushed. I thought this simply because I was stuck walking behind them, and I could hear their plotting.

"I agree they have to pay Severus, but not if it entails embarrassing our own house." Gemma said, her head held high, as she walked with a puffed chest. It was to be expected, as she most defiantly was wearing her prefect badge, shining brightly over it and everywhere else she walked to.

"They've already done that."

"And we're supposed degrade ourselves to their level?"

"I shouldn't have come to you." The boy answered.

Gemma looked at him as she walked. "Not without a decent plan you should had not."

They looked strangely magnificent from where I was looking. Sure, they were arguing like the deranged, self-entailed, purist, elitist they were, but the way they walked sparked in me an interesting appreciation. They were opposites, those two, in appearance and in personality. Gemma was like a lamppost, impossibly skinny, moderately taller than the rest of us girls, and her yellow hair lighted the immediate space with a pale glow. Snape, on the other hand was the opposite. Where Gemma was all perfection, Severus was unrefined in his darkness. His dark long hair, though greasy to the point that maybe he should seek medical help, gave an air of epic-ness as his black school robes blew against his back.

If they ended dating each other, I would get a perverse-like pleasure from in. And I mean that in a good way.

Severus' hands balled into fists at his sides. The teenager had terrible temper, and it made his words drip with venom. "Do you have any ideas, Gemma? Because at this point you've proven to be useless."

Those words made Gemma turn to him abruptly. In her hand she held her wand, pointed at Snape. "Don't test me!"

I had to stop as suddenly as they did under their hostility, trapped to look at each of them a foot away.

"What are you looking at, Nolan?"

I only noticed that Severus was talking to me when I saw him turned toward me. My unexpected inclusion left me lost for words.

"Walk along." Gemma commanded.

Still looking at them, I moved to evade them as I walked away. I tried to not deflate myself as I left their presence. I could do without their hostility. Though it wasn't of normal occurrence toward me, since both of them liked to avoid me whenever possible, their hostility was something I was not used to. And something I certainly didn't like, but I couldn't do anything about that.

I held back the desperate need to think a couple of bad words to them.

Entering the Charm's classroom, I immediately went to where all the Slytherins were on a side of the auditorium, waiting for Professor Flitwick to appear and start class.

Sitting next to Mafalda, I sighed as I pulled my bag over my desk to take out all the materials I would need for the class. With new parchment, ink, quill and my homework laid out, I placed my old wand strategically between them, and sat down as comfortable as I could. Gemma was still outside, but Hestia, her partner, had taken her seat in front of me. Gertrude was behind me, sitting next to her boyfriend Rabastan Lestrange. On the other side of the classroom, the six year Gryffindors got ready for class.

The air was tense, as the Slytherins talked in hushed tones, waiting.

When they came in, all Slytherin eyes landed on them. If glares could destroy, the four boys would be a pile of ash. Gemma and Severus too glared at them as they walked in behind them.

They sat to the other side of the auditorium, with the other Gryffindors.

The Marauders.

James Potter messed his hair, looking at my general direction where all the Slytherin girls were. He was looking for a reaction, proving to all that were stupid enough to still be wondering who was responsible for the prank. His untidy black hair singled him out in a crowd, even more so considering he styled it in every direction possible. Tall and smug as he walked, seeming to be able to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and still be able to make it look like the coolest thing ever.

Sirius Black sat next to Potter, pulling his long legs up to rest over the desk with the most natural elegance. I had to admit that he was incredibly good looking. Well-built, radiant black hair, darkly-handsome and with a smile that shone with wild youth, capable of bewitching anyone. If ever my gaze landed on him, I would look away as soon as I saw that smile. I had enough problems as it was and I didn't need to be under his spell like everyone else.

Gemma, who was about to take her seat, seemed to sigh as he sat down. As much as she wanted his prospects, the prank had annoyed her image of him. It annoyed all of the Slytherins, even more considering that all their pranks were directed at us. I didn't know that for an official fact. Since I'd only been on Hogwarts for two months, I was still proving rumors and myths of the castle. The way things kept happening; I would definitely say that the Marauders had it in for us of Salazar's house. We hated them, and the rest of the students in the other houses loved them. Especially that Sirius Black. The girls did swoon over him, I've noticed.

Behind the two ringleaders of the Marauders sat Peter Pettigrew. To me he was the most normal of them, or at least the one who looked most normal. His dark blue eyes were small and watery, and his nose bent in a way that reminded me of a rodent. He had his brown hair styled back, in a style that seemed ridiculous to me, but he obviously favored for every time I even looked his way he was like that. A little pudgy and short, but that only made him cute.

And the last one to put his books down and sit was Remus Lupin. The tallest of the group, he was also the skinniest. He looked malnourish, as I stared at him from the other side of the classroom, and his robes reminded me of mine. They looked two sizes too big on him. Sandy hair was neatly combed over his eyes, which sparkled blue. The most fascinated thing of him was the pink scars on his face. Though his eyes shone with the mannerisms of a well mannered boy, his scars gave sense to his spot in the gang of infamous troublemakers.

There was an annoying feeling inside of me, lately, whenever I saw them. In a way it felt like I was trying to suppress something. Then again, there were many things in my life I was trying to suppress.

Potter was still looking our way, smirking. It was as if he was daring us to speak up.

"He's a prat." Mafalda said.

When I saw that none of the other sixth year girls answered her, I realized she was talking to me. That made me turned my head to look at her. We shared a solidarity stare, though I don't understand why I included myself. I was honestly surprised. It had been a few weeks since she had spoken to me in such a normal way. She must really like Potter, to have said that to me.

"Sure is." I chimed.

Professor Flitwick came into the room then, and called the class to order. The lesson lasted for almost two of hour, time in which I tried hard not to go crazy with the given material.

. . .

AN: I have never described so many people before in my life! I'm not too big in the describing people flat out like that, but I felt I needed to try to build up how Faraday saw the boys. I used the appearances from the books, movies and my imagination. Please enjoy and review. XD