A Little Bit of Love and Laughter

I woke up the next morning far earlier than anyone else, probably due to my nerves and the awful nauseating feeling in my stomach. Attempting to remain quiet so as not to wake any of the sleeping girls, I slipped out of bed and walked into the common room.

My bare feet shuffled against the midnight blue carpet as I inched toward one of the dark colored armchairs. The stars painted on the domed ceiling made the room feel so much bigger than it was during the day or even at twilight, when I had last been in the room. I plopped myself in the armchair closest to the now-lit fireplace and turned to face the large arched windows. The rising sun lit up the surrounding mountains, and the view emphasized how distant I felt from London, from my mother, from everything with which I felt even relatively comfortable. The statue by the door seemed as if it was staring at me, like its eyes followed my every move, and sent chills down my spine. The inscription of the woman’s white marble monument read “Rowena Ravenclaw, founder of Ravenclaw House”.

I took this time while no one else was awake to explore the common room. I examined the books on the bookshelves and even made the ill-advised attempt to walk around the room, feeling about for walls in the dark. One of the walls, as I touched it, seemed to move slightly, so I pushed harder and fell through. I heard the sound of a closing door and turned to realize that I was now locked out of the common room. Lovely; as if I needed more proof that I didn’t belong here.

The door was bare of a doorknob and keyhole, which was reassuring as I had not been given a key, and instead had on it a large bronze knocker shaped like an eagle. I lifted it and knocked it quietly against the wood of the door, still trying to not be too loud.

“The maker doesn’t want it; the buyer doesn’t use it; and the user doesn’t see it,” said a voice. “What is it?”

I thought for a moment, aware that it was obviously a trick question, a riddle. Rowena Ravenclaw, a woman known for her intelligence and sheer wit, certainly wouldn’t have granted entrance to someone with a mediocre answer. “A coffin” was my eventual response, and the door swung open, allowing me back in.

I hadn’t realized how much time had passed while I was downstairs, but I ran back up to the dormitory, and the other girls were just waking up. I quickly got ready for classes and was on my way with some time to spare.

Much to my surprise, I did not have much trouble finding the Potions classroom in the dungeon, and as I went to sit down at the front middle table, I heard a somewhat familiar pair of voices call out, “Oi, Em!”

I turned around to see the twins and replied, “I thought you guys weren’t supposed to talk to me anymore.” The looks on their faces made it clear that they were perplexed, so I clarified, “Well, I thought you weren’t allowed to associate with people outside your house.”

“What?” exclaimed Fred as an initial reaction.

“No way!” said George. “Only people we’d be allowed to talk to then...”

“Would pretty much be family,” finished Fred.

“Plus Angelina and Lee.”

“And they’re pretty much the only ones we can tolerate.”

I chuckled lightly, letting out a slight smile. “That’s reassuring.”

Fred took a seat on my right and George behind him as the rest of the class began to file in. Once all, or at least most, students were seated, Severus strolled into the classroom, a scowl plastered on his sallow face. He got to the front of the room and began roll call, cringing ever so slightly as he read my name.

As Severus cleared his throat and began his spiel about the undeniable importance of Potions in the lives of witches and wizards, Fred slipped a folded note under my hand.

“What a git! Wish Percy had warned me that this class was so... much fun.”

I couldn’t help myself from snickering upon reading the note, but then I wrote back in my own neat script, “I’m sure it won’t always be this bad. He’s probably just putting on a show for now.”

Fred rolled his eyes and, after writing his response, passed it back.

“Heard he plays favorites with his house.”

Severus caught me catching the note and snatched it from my hands. As he read it over, I saw his nostrils flare in anger and frustration. “Miss Prince, Mr. Weasley, you’ve just earned yourselves detention with me tonight. And ten points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for your sheer lack of respect.”

I sighed, trying to fight the urge to dispute. Being argumentative was not going to get me anywhere, and I didn’t want to risk getting Fred in more trouble. Fred scoffed quietly and ran his hand through his red hair as Severus started his lesson. After going through all of the trouble to defend Severus, I was still given detention. For some reason, I suspected that this went far beyond the note, that it was more a matter of his genuine dislike of me than my being “disrespectful” in class.

What a way to start off the year...