Post by caladwen on Dec 20, 2007 3:01:20 GMT -5
Hello and welcome back to Autumn. We would like to wish our readers from the Southern hemisphere a pleasant Winter, and our Northerners a warm Summer!
A new chapter, and this time, both of us contributed! Try and tell who wrote what! We generally try to post only when we have a new chapter ready to be posted also, so that there's a back up if we get really rabid fans, which we do not really expect.
We're trying not to let Tabitha, and the new character about to be introduced become too Mary-sueish, and we'll take a Mary-sue test every few chapters, or when someone declares either a Mary-sue. We hope that our little baby here can earn a place in your hearts, and we'll update for as long as we have obediant muses and interested fans.
And now to our disclaimer girl, Azzy!
Azure: Okay, people. This is going to be a universal disclaimer, for I don't like adding them and neither does Risa. We don't own Harry Potter or any of the themes therein. We make no profit from the writing of this story. Enjoy!
There were whispers all around her, closing in, ringing in her ears. At this rate, she couldn't tell whether they were dream-whispers or waking-whispers.
Groaning slightly, Tabitha opened her eyes. The blue curtains puzzled her for a moment; she couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten there.
Then she remembered an office filled with books and odd trinkets, and an ancient voice muttering in her ear...
Tabitha sat up very slowly, thankful that she had remembered to pull the curtains closed last night. The whispers, she confirmed, were waking-whispers. It seemed that the other girls in her dorm had discovered her presence.
Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair subconsciously. Then, opening the curtains, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt her bare feet make contact with the cool wood floor.
Four pairs of eyes were staring at her. The other sixth-year Ravenclaw girls were already dressed in their ridiculously layered uniforms.
“Er,” she said intelligently, “Hi?”
As if broken from their trance, the girls automatically started going about their regular business of making beds and packing book bags.
Furrowing her brow, Tabitha started to get her own things together. Bed made, book bag packed, all she had left to do was put on the horrid uniform.
The skirt, stockings and shirt were fine. She was used to this being the whole uniform, though.
Tabitha had no prior experience dealing with ties. This became clear as she fumbled with it, getting it all twisted up and than trying to unknot it. This went on for about five minutes before she gave a frustrated sigh and through the blue and bronze mess onto her bed.
One of the other girls, looking rather frightened, tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yeah?”
When there was no answer, she turned. A fair skinned girl with loads of curly blonde hair grinned at her, gesturing to the dead tie lying on the bed.
“You know how to do ties?” Tabitha asked, glancing at the girl’s perfectly tied one.
The girl nodded furiously, before pulling a thin wand out of her inner robe and pointed it at the tie. At once, it leapt to life. Flying into the air, it secured itself around Tabitha’s neck and knotted itself rather gracefully.
She looked at the girl in awe. “You’ve got to teach me how to do that!”
The other girl just grinned, and another one of her dorm-mates came up beside her. “Hello! I’m Diane Smith. This is Maggie Johnson. She’s mute,” Diane added, holding out her hand. Tabitha shook it, before going throwing on the blue-lined black robe.
“Would you like to come to breakfast with us? I’m just dying to know where you came from.” Diane grinned, walking to her own bed and slinging her book bag over her shoulder.
“Uh… sure,” Tabitha agreed, picking up her own bag. Maggie joined them, and together the three made their way down the dormitory stairs and out from behind the suit of armor that guarded their Common Room.
In the morning the light, the castle looked drastically different. The shadows that seemed to lurk in the corners and alcoves disappeared, alleviating the aura of mystery and foreboding.
This morning, Tabitha admitted, it actually looked nice. Ancient, but nice.
The stairs, however, still made her stomach turn. There was no way she was going to memorize all of the passages and floors and not get lost. She doubted that she would even be able to find her classes.
As they past a window, Tabitha caught a glance out at the grounds. Her jaw dropped. All this belonged to the school? And she thought navigating the castle was going to be difficult…
“We aren’t allowed in the forest,” Diane supplied, circling back when she realized that Tabitha wasn’t beside her, “So it’s not all that big. That,” she pointed to a oval structure with large trusses in the distance, “is the Quidditch Pitch. We won’t be having games for about a month yet, so you don’t have to worry about going that far. The lake, there, is where the first years come in. It’s rumored to be home to a Giant Squid, but I’ve never seen it. The Gamekeeper’s Hut… I don’t know him personally. Huge man with lots of beard.” Tabitha nodded, trying to keep up.
“The Herbology Greenhouses. We’ll likely have that today, I always have it my first day,” Diane finished, looking pleased.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to navigating this castle,” Tabitha said, taking one last long look at the grounds before starting off again, “its way too big. Salem’s had three levels.”
“ Salem’s? Is that where you’re from? I thought I recognized the accent.”
Maggie nodded, grinning still.
By the time they got down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Tabitha’s legs felt like they were going to fall off. “Now I know why you English witches are so fit. It’s those stairs, isn’t it?” Tabitha said, sliding onto the bench between Maggie and Diane.
She took this chance to look around at the Great Hall. The massive room housed three tables that ran nearly the length of the room, each labeled by the banner that hung from the ceiling. At the end of these tables there were three steps leading up to a platform, where there was another table place horizontal in front of the others.
In the center of this table was a large golden throne, in which sat Professor Dumbledore, whom she remembered from the night before. Stretched out on either side of him were people she assumed were teachers. She noticed the stern-faced witch that Dumbledore had called Professor McGonagall sitting directly to his right.
Tabitha looked up at the ceiling curiously, expecting to see a chandelier or some other testament to greatness hanging there. Quite the contrary, it looked like there wasn’t ceiling. Clouds rolled by lazily on a canvas of azure blue.
“Er, Diane? What’s with the ceiling, or lack thereof?”
Diane laughed around her bacon. “It’s got a charm on it. Makes it reflect the sky outside. Don’t worry, though,” she added, “there is a ceiling there.”
Relieved, Tabitha started piling her plate with various food items.
She was just about to take a bite out of a piece of sausage when there was a very loud explosion from the other end of the room. Startled, she looked around.
Mercy was shivering as she walked through the tunnels of Hogwarts castle the morning after her arrival. She had been told by her new Head of House that her dormitory would be under the lake, and therefore freezing, but she hadn't expected this. The other students of her house ('Slytherin?' she wondered) were walking calmly and swiftly through the dimly lit corridors, and it was only by the virtue of there being so many of them that she wasn't yet lost.
The previous night she'd arrived in what she now knew was the Entrance Hall, she'd then dumped her things next to another trunk, and been escorted to the Headmaster's office to be Sorted. The Sorting was a very odd procedure; you tried on a hat which shouted the name of the House that best suited you. Back home (her throat tightened) there hadn't been Houses, because there hadn't been enough witches and wizards to do so; the only division had been in the sleeping arrangements, and that was by gender and age.
Anyway, the Hat had told her that she was ambitious, and that Slytherin would help her achieve her dreams, and thus the young Australian transfer student became a student of Hogwarts.
She was sent to a room for the five or six girls in her year, and had been hit with more of the green and silver decor they seemed to be overly fond of. The beds had been comfortable and warm (a warming charm, she suspected) and the stone floor had ended at the doorway, giving way to thick, lush carpet. The other girls who had been awake stared at her critically, asked her several questions about her magical heritage, and directed her to the empty bed at the end of the eerily lit room; the decorator seemed to think that flickering green candlelight would add to the reputation of the already snooty and icy Slytherin House.
She'd woken the next morning to a cool reception, though not as bad as the night before; apparently they'd decided that so long as she had a pureblood father, she was worthy of being spoken to and seen. One of the girls, who had introduced herself stiffly (or formally, depending on your opinion) as Catilina Malfoy, prompting the other five to do the same. Only Catilina's name had stuck in her mind though, probably because of the sharp grey eyes that had been staring into her back through the closed curtains for most of the sleepless night; or perhaps it was simply because the girl herself was oddly memorable.
Mercy shook her head, clearing it, as a rather large girl, who was a year older than her, by the looks of her, sent her stumbling sideways. The girl continued on her way, completely ignoring the shocked, and slowly angering Australian. She drew her elbow back sharply, her palm open; a short, narrow stick of wood fell easily into the waiting fingers. She raised her arm, falling into a practiced stance, and took aim. She stood there, feeling like a fool for a moment, then tucked away her wand, clamping down on her often disastrous temper.
"I wouldn't do that again," a cool voice stated from behind her. "Not only do you look like a complete fool, but you'll get detention for it too."
"I thought Slytherins didn't care about rules," she replied, trying to cover her surprise; the line about the Slytherin's was something that Hagrid, her escort, had mentioned as he explained the Houses.
"Most don't, some do," the girl replied, her bag hanging casually off a shoulder. "I think it's foolish to actively seek to break them."
Mercy shifted uncomfortable on the spot, her neck prickling; "I'm Mercy Dwyer."
"And from the accent, Australian," the girl continued loftily. "I am Philomena Harper."
"Pleased to meet you," Mercy tried a smile, offering a hand.
"Likewise."
Philomena Harper breezed past, ignoring the hand and leaving Mercy feeling even more like an idiot. Grimacing at her luck thus far, she hurried up the corridor after her rapidly vanishing Housemates, layered robes swishing in the dank corridor. Her new school shoes clicked on the stone floor, echoing off walls that became invisible in the plentiful shadows. The only light came from the medieval-looking torches lining the walls every ten metres or so, meaning that one had to be careful not to trip on the uneven ground. It wasn't until she was feeling warm in her cloak that she realised she was reaching her destination, whatever that might be.
The corridor opened into a wide hall, even grander than the Entrance Hall; her gaze ran along the polished floors to the pillars extending into... the sky? The roof, if there was one, was a beautiful blue canvas splashed with white, fluffy clouds. She was staring, this castle was so much more ancient, and... charming than her previous school, which had been rather bland by comparison. Her eyes traced their way back down to look across the general area, moving focus from the impressive ceiling to the lengthy mahogany-looking tables.
She knew probably looked like a fool (again) but she didn't care at that moment, to engulfed by the exquisite, if somewhat showy, castle. The four tables each stretched the width of the hall, which was large enough to seat one thousand people with much room to spare. At each table sat at least two hundred or so students, seemingly colour-coded, all of whom were chattering and laughing together. There were some rather obvious cliques, but mainly the students seemed to mesh in every which way, so different from her old school; though she supposed that had something to do with the Houses thing. There was, occasionally, a blue, red or yellow student sitting at another table, but the green table seemed to stick to themselves. She glanced down at her tie, which hung limp on her layered black cloak; she sighed, yet another reason to be separated from the others.
Despite being the only table that was not speckled with other colours, and the only one without its own colour scattered throughout the hall, it was the most obviously segregated. The seemingly 'high-born' girls and boys were sitting closest to the back of the hall, furthest from the teachers. Even these groups were divided, the couples sat together, either swapping spit between bites, or staring politely into each others eyes; from there there were two more sections, single boys and single girls. Just along the table from these groups were the cronies, then at the end closest the teachers were the social rejects. The social rejects, as she called them (and herself) were often the most interesting people to be friends with, rather than someone is was shameful to know.
Making her decision she strode down between the wall and the Slytherin table, and swung her leg over the seat, sitting in front of a golden plate. She blinked down at the aforementioned plate, and tapped it curiously with a short fingernail. She grinned, and began to serve bacon and eggs onto her plate, her bag set beside her. She became aware, as she began to eat, that she was being stared at by some of the younger Slytherins, and several of the older boys.
'Damn... new girl label,' she thought to herself, trying to eat normally with some difficulty. 'Ah well, they'll get over it soon enough... I hope.'
She was reaching for the juice pitcher to pour herself a drink, and all Hell broke loose.
Snakes exploded (yes, snakes) out of the juice, their red-and-gold plastic bodies raining down on the unlucky Slytherin table. Mercy barely had time to realise that the same thing was happening all the way down the table before her food dissolved, and a jet of water spat up off the gilded surface and into her face. Now drenched from the shoulders up, and surrounded by plastic snakes (which had been bespelled with an Time-Delay Animation Charm, and were starting to slither around under the table) Mercy was all too aware of obnoxious laughter from the rest of the school.
'Oh great! So not only do I get to be the new girl in the prissy, reject House, but I get to be the butt of every prankster's jokes,' she snarled mentally, standing angrily.
Or rather, she tried to stand. As soon as she did so, however, she slipped on the suddenly curved floor. She blinked up in confusion, and found herself looking through an opaque, curved roof. She groaned, the sound echoing inside the bubble she'd been trapped in, and realised belatedly that she was, like everyone else in her House, floating about four metres off the ground. The shaky hold she had on her temper was torn off as she saw her hair in the slightly reflective bubble.
'Pink?' she shrieked mentally, then drew her wand, eyes narrow with fury, and jabbed the pale wood at the bubble. "Pungi!"
Whatever effect the spell had been intended to have was obviously not what occurred, as nothing happened what-so-ever. Looking frustrated, she tried the spell again, to the same result. After several more tries, and a lot of frustration on her part, she gave up, and contented herself with floating above the heads of the laughing students, and picking out the memorable ones to hex at a later date.
Her attention was drawn to a group of three boys, who, other than laughing themselves sick, seemed to stand out. All three were in red; one boy was shorter and plumper than the other two, his features were somewhat mousey, and his watery blue eyes remained fixed on the middle-height boy. The other two boys both had black-hair, though one had let his become a mess, quite resembling an overgrown patch of grass, this was the boy who seemed to be the plump one's fascination. The other boy had more elegant looks, and a distinctly nonchalant air.
It wasn't until she saw one of the dark-haired boys look towards a sandy haired boy that she noticed they were a quartet. The messy-haired boy, who had looked towards the pale blonde, grinned easily, and spoke a few words before bursting into laughter again. The sandy-haired by smiled hesitantly, and glanced guiltily at the floating Slytherins, then broke into a full grin and began to converse with the other dark-haired boy.
As soon as she heard laughter, she realised she was free of her bubble. She looked away from the boys, who were being approached by an angry-looking red-headed girl, and saw one of the teachers levitating her to the ground beside the blue table. There were jeers from the students, and angry teachers scolding them as she touched down on the floor. Around her, other green students were doing the same, and most looking pissed off, or frightened.
Suddenly she was being lifted to her feet, careful hands gripping her forearms. She met a set of green optics, and took in the appearance of an average-height brunette girl. She was smiling, like the rest of them. Mercy flared up with anger.
"What?" she spat. "Come to laugh at the new girl?"
Mercy was taken aback at the angry American accent that brought her the retort.
"Oh, and a fine way to thank someone who just helped you off the floor," the other brunette snapped back. "No, I wasn't here to laugh, but if you treat me like that, I'll regret not joining them when they did."
Mercy looked at the girl carefully, and noted the reproachful look; she decided that perhaps this girl really had been just helping. Rather than apologising profusely, or lowering herself to look as if she was begging for forgiveness, she looked the other girl in the eye.
"Sorry."
The sincerity was there, but Mercy refused to show any signs of thinking she was lower or weaker than the other girl, it wasn't in her nature to grovel; if this girl refused this apology, Mercy wouldn't take it further.
Their eyes locked for a moment, unspoken tests given in that second of connection, then the other girl nodded slightly in affirmation.
"I'm Tabitha Hurley," she offered. "But call me Tabbi."
"Mercy Dwyer. Meri."
The general organised chaos that had reigned before the snake explosions had returned, and Tabitha and Mercy were not the only two walking about or talking, so they drew no attention. What did draw attention was the shrill bell ringing throughout the castle, signifying the end of the breakfast period, and the beginning of their new schooling life.
And there we have it folks, another chapter in the (to date) somewhat boring tales of Meri and Tabbi! We're going to get things moving a little more next chapter, when the girls properly meet the Marauders and Lily, and encounter their first British-style magic lesson! Stay tuned for more, oh, and review, the review box likes your thoughts, eyes and keystrokes.
Risa & Azure
A new chapter, and this time, both of us contributed! Try and tell who wrote what! We generally try to post only when we have a new chapter ready to be posted also, so that there's a back up if we get really rabid fans, which we do not really expect.
We're trying not to let Tabitha, and the new character about to be introduced become too Mary-sueish, and we'll take a Mary-sue test every few chapters, or when someone declares either a Mary-sue. We hope that our little baby here can earn a place in your hearts, and we'll update for as long as we have obediant muses and interested fans.
And now to our disclaimer girl, Azzy!
Azure: Okay, people. This is going to be a universal disclaimer, for I don't like adding them and neither does Risa. We don't own Harry Potter or any of the themes therein. We make no profit from the writing of this story. Enjoy!
There were whispers all around her, closing in, ringing in her ears. At this rate, she couldn't tell whether they were dream-whispers or waking-whispers.
Groaning slightly, Tabitha opened her eyes. The blue curtains puzzled her for a moment; she couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten there.
Then she remembered an office filled with books and odd trinkets, and an ancient voice muttering in her ear...
Tabitha sat up very slowly, thankful that she had remembered to pull the curtains closed last night. The whispers, she confirmed, were waking-whispers. It seemed that the other girls in her dorm had discovered her presence.
Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair subconsciously. Then, opening the curtains, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt her bare feet make contact with the cool wood floor.
Four pairs of eyes were staring at her. The other sixth-year Ravenclaw girls were already dressed in their ridiculously layered uniforms.
“Er,” she said intelligently, “Hi?”
As if broken from their trance, the girls automatically started going about their regular business of making beds and packing book bags.
Furrowing her brow, Tabitha started to get her own things together. Bed made, book bag packed, all she had left to do was put on the horrid uniform.
The skirt, stockings and shirt were fine. She was used to this being the whole uniform, though.
Tabitha had no prior experience dealing with ties. This became clear as she fumbled with it, getting it all twisted up and than trying to unknot it. This went on for about five minutes before she gave a frustrated sigh and through the blue and bronze mess onto her bed.
One of the other girls, looking rather frightened, tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yeah?”
When there was no answer, she turned. A fair skinned girl with loads of curly blonde hair grinned at her, gesturing to the dead tie lying on the bed.
“You know how to do ties?” Tabitha asked, glancing at the girl’s perfectly tied one.
The girl nodded furiously, before pulling a thin wand out of her inner robe and pointed it at the tie. At once, it leapt to life. Flying into the air, it secured itself around Tabitha’s neck and knotted itself rather gracefully.
She looked at the girl in awe. “You’ve got to teach me how to do that!”
The other girl just grinned, and another one of her dorm-mates came up beside her. “Hello! I’m Diane Smith. This is Maggie Johnson. She’s mute,” Diane added, holding out her hand. Tabitha shook it, before going throwing on the blue-lined black robe.
“Would you like to come to breakfast with us? I’m just dying to know where you came from.” Diane grinned, walking to her own bed and slinging her book bag over her shoulder.
“Uh… sure,” Tabitha agreed, picking up her own bag. Maggie joined them, and together the three made their way down the dormitory stairs and out from behind the suit of armor that guarded their Common Room.
In the morning the light, the castle looked drastically different. The shadows that seemed to lurk in the corners and alcoves disappeared, alleviating the aura of mystery and foreboding.
This morning, Tabitha admitted, it actually looked nice. Ancient, but nice.
The stairs, however, still made her stomach turn. There was no way she was going to memorize all of the passages and floors and not get lost. She doubted that she would even be able to find her classes.
As they past a window, Tabitha caught a glance out at the grounds. Her jaw dropped. All this belonged to the school? And she thought navigating the castle was going to be difficult…
“We aren’t allowed in the forest,” Diane supplied, circling back when she realized that Tabitha wasn’t beside her, “So it’s not all that big. That,” she pointed to a oval structure with large trusses in the distance, “is the Quidditch Pitch. We won’t be having games for about a month yet, so you don’t have to worry about going that far. The lake, there, is where the first years come in. It’s rumored to be home to a Giant Squid, but I’ve never seen it. The Gamekeeper’s Hut… I don’t know him personally. Huge man with lots of beard.” Tabitha nodded, trying to keep up.
“The Herbology Greenhouses. We’ll likely have that today, I always have it my first day,” Diane finished, looking pleased.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to navigating this castle,” Tabitha said, taking one last long look at the grounds before starting off again, “its way too big. Salem’s had three levels.”
“ Salem’s? Is that where you’re from? I thought I recognized the accent.”
Maggie nodded, grinning still.
By the time they got down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Tabitha’s legs felt like they were going to fall off. “Now I know why you English witches are so fit. It’s those stairs, isn’t it?” Tabitha said, sliding onto the bench between Maggie and Diane.
She took this chance to look around at the Great Hall. The massive room housed three tables that ran nearly the length of the room, each labeled by the banner that hung from the ceiling. At the end of these tables there were three steps leading up to a platform, where there was another table place horizontal in front of the others.
In the center of this table was a large golden throne, in which sat Professor Dumbledore, whom she remembered from the night before. Stretched out on either side of him were people she assumed were teachers. She noticed the stern-faced witch that Dumbledore had called Professor McGonagall sitting directly to his right.
Tabitha looked up at the ceiling curiously, expecting to see a chandelier or some other testament to greatness hanging there. Quite the contrary, it looked like there wasn’t ceiling. Clouds rolled by lazily on a canvas of azure blue.
“Er, Diane? What’s with the ceiling, or lack thereof?”
Diane laughed around her bacon. “It’s got a charm on it. Makes it reflect the sky outside. Don’t worry, though,” she added, “there is a ceiling there.”
Relieved, Tabitha started piling her plate with various food items.
She was just about to take a bite out of a piece of sausage when there was a very loud explosion from the other end of the room. Startled, she looked around.
Mercy was shivering as she walked through the tunnels of Hogwarts castle the morning after her arrival. She had been told by her new Head of House that her dormitory would be under the lake, and therefore freezing, but she hadn't expected this. The other students of her house ('Slytherin?' she wondered) were walking calmly and swiftly through the dimly lit corridors, and it was only by the virtue of there being so many of them that she wasn't yet lost.
The previous night she'd arrived in what she now knew was the Entrance Hall, she'd then dumped her things next to another trunk, and been escorted to the Headmaster's office to be Sorted. The Sorting was a very odd procedure; you tried on a hat which shouted the name of the House that best suited you. Back home (her throat tightened) there hadn't been Houses, because there hadn't been enough witches and wizards to do so; the only division had been in the sleeping arrangements, and that was by gender and age.
Anyway, the Hat had told her that she was ambitious, and that Slytherin would help her achieve her dreams, and thus the young Australian transfer student became a student of Hogwarts.
She was sent to a room for the five or six girls in her year, and had been hit with more of the green and silver decor they seemed to be overly fond of. The beds had been comfortable and warm (a warming charm, she suspected) and the stone floor had ended at the doorway, giving way to thick, lush carpet. The other girls who had been awake stared at her critically, asked her several questions about her magical heritage, and directed her to the empty bed at the end of the eerily lit room; the decorator seemed to think that flickering green candlelight would add to the reputation of the already snooty and icy Slytherin House.
She'd woken the next morning to a cool reception, though not as bad as the night before; apparently they'd decided that so long as she had a pureblood father, she was worthy of being spoken to and seen. One of the girls, who had introduced herself stiffly (or formally, depending on your opinion) as Catilina Malfoy, prompting the other five to do the same. Only Catilina's name had stuck in her mind though, probably because of the sharp grey eyes that had been staring into her back through the closed curtains for most of the sleepless night; or perhaps it was simply because the girl herself was oddly memorable.
Mercy shook her head, clearing it, as a rather large girl, who was a year older than her, by the looks of her, sent her stumbling sideways. The girl continued on her way, completely ignoring the shocked, and slowly angering Australian. She drew her elbow back sharply, her palm open; a short, narrow stick of wood fell easily into the waiting fingers. She raised her arm, falling into a practiced stance, and took aim. She stood there, feeling like a fool for a moment, then tucked away her wand, clamping down on her often disastrous temper.
"I wouldn't do that again," a cool voice stated from behind her. "Not only do you look like a complete fool, but you'll get detention for it too."
"I thought Slytherins didn't care about rules," she replied, trying to cover her surprise; the line about the Slytherin's was something that Hagrid, her escort, had mentioned as he explained the Houses.
"Most don't, some do," the girl replied, her bag hanging casually off a shoulder. "I think it's foolish to actively seek to break them."
Mercy shifted uncomfortable on the spot, her neck prickling; "I'm Mercy Dwyer."
"And from the accent, Australian," the girl continued loftily. "I am Philomena Harper."
"Pleased to meet you," Mercy tried a smile, offering a hand.
"Likewise."
Philomena Harper breezed past, ignoring the hand and leaving Mercy feeling even more like an idiot. Grimacing at her luck thus far, she hurried up the corridor after her rapidly vanishing Housemates, layered robes swishing in the dank corridor. Her new school shoes clicked on the stone floor, echoing off walls that became invisible in the plentiful shadows. The only light came from the medieval-looking torches lining the walls every ten metres or so, meaning that one had to be careful not to trip on the uneven ground. It wasn't until she was feeling warm in her cloak that she realised she was reaching her destination, whatever that might be.
The corridor opened into a wide hall, even grander than the Entrance Hall; her gaze ran along the polished floors to the pillars extending into... the sky? The roof, if there was one, was a beautiful blue canvas splashed with white, fluffy clouds. She was staring, this castle was so much more ancient, and... charming than her previous school, which had been rather bland by comparison. Her eyes traced their way back down to look across the general area, moving focus from the impressive ceiling to the lengthy mahogany-looking tables.
She knew probably looked like a fool (again) but she didn't care at that moment, to engulfed by the exquisite, if somewhat showy, castle. The four tables each stretched the width of the hall, which was large enough to seat one thousand people with much room to spare. At each table sat at least two hundred or so students, seemingly colour-coded, all of whom were chattering and laughing together. There were some rather obvious cliques, but mainly the students seemed to mesh in every which way, so different from her old school; though she supposed that had something to do with the Houses thing. There was, occasionally, a blue, red or yellow student sitting at another table, but the green table seemed to stick to themselves. She glanced down at her tie, which hung limp on her layered black cloak; she sighed, yet another reason to be separated from the others.
Despite being the only table that was not speckled with other colours, and the only one without its own colour scattered throughout the hall, it was the most obviously segregated. The seemingly 'high-born' girls and boys were sitting closest to the back of the hall, furthest from the teachers. Even these groups were divided, the couples sat together, either swapping spit between bites, or staring politely into each others eyes; from there there were two more sections, single boys and single girls. Just along the table from these groups were the cronies, then at the end closest the teachers were the social rejects. The social rejects, as she called them (and herself) were often the most interesting people to be friends with, rather than someone is was shameful to know.
Making her decision she strode down between the wall and the Slytherin table, and swung her leg over the seat, sitting in front of a golden plate. She blinked down at the aforementioned plate, and tapped it curiously with a short fingernail. She grinned, and began to serve bacon and eggs onto her plate, her bag set beside her. She became aware, as she began to eat, that she was being stared at by some of the younger Slytherins, and several of the older boys.
'Damn... new girl label,' she thought to herself, trying to eat normally with some difficulty. 'Ah well, they'll get over it soon enough... I hope.'
She was reaching for the juice pitcher to pour herself a drink, and all Hell broke loose.
Snakes exploded (yes, snakes) out of the juice, their red-and-gold plastic bodies raining down on the unlucky Slytherin table. Mercy barely had time to realise that the same thing was happening all the way down the table before her food dissolved, and a jet of water spat up off the gilded surface and into her face. Now drenched from the shoulders up, and surrounded by plastic snakes (which had been bespelled with an Time-Delay Animation Charm, and were starting to slither around under the table) Mercy was all too aware of obnoxious laughter from the rest of the school.
'Oh great! So not only do I get to be the new girl in the prissy, reject House, but I get to be the butt of every prankster's jokes,' she snarled mentally, standing angrily.
Or rather, she tried to stand. As soon as she did so, however, she slipped on the suddenly curved floor. She blinked up in confusion, and found herself looking through an opaque, curved roof. She groaned, the sound echoing inside the bubble she'd been trapped in, and realised belatedly that she was, like everyone else in her House, floating about four metres off the ground. The shaky hold she had on her temper was torn off as she saw her hair in the slightly reflective bubble.
'Pink?' she shrieked mentally, then drew her wand, eyes narrow with fury, and jabbed the pale wood at the bubble. "Pungi!"
Whatever effect the spell had been intended to have was obviously not what occurred, as nothing happened what-so-ever. Looking frustrated, she tried the spell again, to the same result. After several more tries, and a lot of frustration on her part, she gave up, and contented herself with floating above the heads of the laughing students, and picking out the memorable ones to hex at a later date.
Her attention was drawn to a group of three boys, who, other than laughing themselves sick, seemed to stand out. All three were in red; one boy was shorter and plumper than the other two, his features were somewhat mousey, and his watery blue eyes remained fixed on the middle-height boy. The other two boys both had black-hair, though one had let his become a mess, quite resembling an overgrown patch of grass, this was the boy who seemed to be the plump one's fascination. The other boy had more elegant looks, and a distinctly nonchalant air.
It wasn't until she saw one of the dark-haired boys look towards a sandy haired boy that she noticed they were a quartet. The messy-haired boy, who had looked towards the pale blonde, grinned easily, and spoke a few words before bursting into laughter again. The sandy-haired by smiled hesitantly, and glanced guiltily at the floating Slytherins, then broke into a full grin and began to converse with the other dark-haired boy.
As soon as she heard laughter, she realised she was free of her bubble. She looked away from the boys, who were being approached by an angry-looking red-headed girl, and saw one of the teachers levitating her to the ground beside the blue table. There were jeers from the students, and angry teachers scolding them as she touched down on the floor. Around her, other green students were doing the same, and most looking pissed off, or frightened.
Suddenly she was being lifted to her feet, careful hands gripping her forearms. She met a set of green optics, and took in the appearance of an average-height brunette girl. She was smiling, like the rest of them. Mercy flared up with anger.
"What?" she spat. "Come to laugh at the new girl?"
Mercy was taken aback at the angry American accent that brought her the retort.
"Oh, and a fine way to thank someone who just helped you off the floor," the other brunette snapped back. "No, I wasn't here to laugh, but if you treat me like that, I'll regret not joining them when they did."
Mercy looked at the girl carefully, and noted the reproachful look; she decided that perhaps this girl really had been just helping. Rather than apologising profusely, or lowering herself to look as if she was begging for forgiveness, she looked the other girl in the eye.
"Sorry."
The sincerity was there, but Mercy refused to show any signs of thinking she was lower or weaker than the other girl, it wasn't in her nature to grovel; if this girl refused this apology, Mercy wouldn't take it further.
Their eyes locked for a moment, unspoken tests given in that second of connection, then the other girl nodded slightly in affirmation.
"I'm Tabitha Hurley," she offered. "But call me Tabbi."
"Mercy Dwyer. Meri."
The general organised chaos that had reigned before the snake explosions had returned, and Tabitha and Mercy were not the only two walking about or talking, so they drew no attention. What did draw attention was the shrill bell ringing throughout the castle, signifying the end of the breakfast period, and the beginning of their new schooling life.
And there we have it folks, another chapter in the (to date) somewhat boring tales of Meri and Tabbi! We're going to get things moving a little more next chapter, when the girls properly meet the Marauders and Lily, and encounter their first British-style magic lesson! Stay tuned for more, oh, and review, the review box likes your thoughts, eyes and keystrokes.
Risa & Azure