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I love my new life at Hogwarts.

It’s much better than at Beauxbaton. I still resent my mother even after everything for sending me there. I had friends, yes, but I could never understand what they were saying because they spoke French. I can only read the words off of lips that in English because that’s the only language I’ve ever known. They had to either write things done or learn some sign language, which some of them did actually. My friends there made me realize not everyone cares only for themselves, but as soon as I went home, I would settle back into my old stupor.

At Hogwarts though, I have both of my brothers, and all of their friends, plus friends of my own. I’ve always been perfectly fine on my own. Actually, sometimes I prefer it that way. It’s nice though to have people who want to listen to you.

I think, however, that Regulus’s friends only like me because I’m his sister, and they hope there’s still time left to bring me over to their side. They’re all so pathetic. As if I’m one to take sides on anything. I’ve always stood alone. Why should now be any different?

There’s a war fast approaching though, and everyone can feel it in the air. The ceiling in the Great Hall has been dark and stormy since I’ve arrived although I don’t think the two events coincide that much at all. Still, there are sides in every war, and there’s only two. It’s not like they give you many options do they? Either way, I’m bound to be fighting against one of my brothers in the end.

I know Regulus is a fan of the Dark Lord, and Sirius, well he isn’t going to be converted any time soon. He’s Dumbledore’s man. What am I? I’m their sister. That’s it for now.

Regulus has been talking to me about the benefits of signing on as a Death Eater. I scoffed at him because I’ve seen how you “sign” on, and I’ve never been the type of girl to want a giant ugly skull tattoo on my arm.

In the end, there’s only one thing I’ve decided on.

Picking sides suck.

I’m currently sitting in the Great Hall studying when Remus walks through the huge wooden double doors and spots me.

I taught him poker yesterday. He should be pleased. I don’t teach just anyone poker.

I like him. He’s a nice guy, and he seems earnest enough in our conversations. Of course, how can I ever tell? For all I know he could carry a sarcastic tone in everything he says. I don’t think so though. Besides, my brother doesn’t seem to mind too terribly that we’ve been talking.

He walks towards me and I wish I could hear his footsteps on the hard stone floors. Sometimes I can just imagine that I hear as a normal person would because I know the noise is there.

Really though, it’s like being underwater. Always.

Sometimes I still wake up in a panic because I can’t hear. Just as I couldn’t the day before. Or the day before that.

He nudges me, and I scoot over. “Hey,” he says facing me.

I nod.

“What are you studying?”


“Can I help?”

“I only need you to listen to directions for me. I can read though.” I know I sound mean, but I’m smiling.

“That’s a relief,” he grins.

He pulls out some books from his book bag and begins memorizing some charts. I suppose it’s for Astronomy although he’s checking moon charts, and we haven’t gone over moon charts yet.

I start studying my own material, but my eyes keep sliding over to the boy next to me. His posture is slouchy like Sirius’s, and his features are smooth like a young boy’s. It’s endearing and attractive all at once. I hope he doesn’t realize I’m memorizing him because I’m staring quite loudly at him now.

He smirks as he turns to me. “You’re staring again.”

“No,” I correct. “I’m listening for secrets.”

“Secrets?” he questions. He seems alarmed. Well, I suppose it was a rather odd thing for me to say.

“You’re hiding something.” I shrug. It’s obvious for anyone to see, really.

“So are you,” he says pointedly without missing a beat.

He’s good.

Then again, so am I.

“I’ll play you for it.”

He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t gamble with my secrets.” He laughs at the expression on my face. I’ve gambled with everything except my soul.

“You’re funny Clover,” he says softly. I think he probably wonders if I know what he’s saying when he speaks quietly or mutters, but I can. Most times.

“Are you excited for the Quidditch match?”

I groan. “I don’t think excited is the right word.”

“You’re nervous?” He seems surprised.

I laugh. “I am human you know.”

He seems taken aback. “I know,” he says ruffled. “You’ll be fine.”

“I know. I’m worried for the other guy,” I grin.

He shakes his head. “How do you do that?”

“What?” I ask. I don’t know what he’s talking about.

“You’re always so confident.”

Me? Confident? What?

I can’t count the number of times in a day I second guess myself. Maybe I always make the right guess.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

He looks at me gently. “I forget sometimes that you’re deaf even. It seems to be you hear more than the rest of us do.”

I know what to say to this. “That’s because you get so caught up in what you see and the sounds you hear that you forget there’s more that can’t be examined physically.”

“How can you hear what isn’t there?”

“It’s like believing what isn’t right in front of you. I can’t hear the tone of your voice, but I believe it’s friendly. I could be wrong,” I shrug, “but I’m almost certain I’m not.”

I wonder how the two of us look sitting close together, head bent towards each other. I bet people are talking right now. By tomorrow, it’ll be all over the school that Remus and Clover have a “thing.”

I almost wish there was more for them to talk about.


 It’s time.

My first ever Quidditch match is taking place in exactly two hours. I’m trying to eat breakfast.

“Eat something,” George commands.

“Can’t,” I mutter.

Ada pops up from my other side. Apparently she dropped something. Again.

“Here,” she says. “I learned something.” She waves her hands around emphatically, and I realize she’s signing. “Good luck,” I read.

“Thanks,” I beam. It was nice of her to learn that for me.

George glares at her. “You’re trying to make me look bad.” Ada sticks her tongue out at him.

They’re both so young still. I mean, we’re exactly the same age, but they seem younger than me. I envy them that. I grew up too fast.

There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turn. It’s the Ravenclaw captain Roy. “Let’s go,” he shakes his head in the pitch’s direction.

“Right.” I stand and pick up my broom from George’s outstretched hands. I’m heading out of the Great Hall when Remus catches my eye. He winks.


He just winked at me.

Who winks anymore?

Nonetheless, I feel better after this odd little signal from him, and the butterflies momentarily flutter for a reason other than the impending doom that is the match against Gryffindor.

The air is clear as we walk to the field and into the locker room where I change in half a second. I don’t even listen to Roy’s little pre-game chat. Before I even know what’s happening exactly we’re kicking off at the whistle, and the winds whistling through my air.

It’s the best feeling of my life.

My confidence zooms back into my chest and it fills me up from my toes to the tip of my head. Suddenly, I know I can do this.

I’m flying faster than I ever have and throwing the quaffle left and right. Every time someone throws it at me, I catch it with ease. Suddenly though, I spot a bludger coming in from my right side, and I know it’ll hit, and it’s going to hurt. I brace myself.

The blow never comes.

I turn my head and peer in that direction. James Potter is holding a club in his right hand. I realize two things. First, he just saved me. Second, he’s a Chaser and shouldn’t be holding the club at all. I look around and see the Gryffindor Beater clubless and angry.

I immediately understand my brother made this happen. I’m upset. Now I look like…like a handicapped girl. Which I am. But I shouldn’t be made to look like one this way.

“Get away,” I hiss at him. He shakes his head so his messy hair flops in his eyes. He tosses his club back to the Beater and rushes off catching the Quaffle on the way. I fly after him, bump into his side, which I know is a foul, but I grab the red ball away from him, and the referee doesn’t blow the whistle on me. I toss it through the hoops easily, and I hear my team going crazy.

I give James a meaningful look as I circle around the hoops and back to the center. He shrugs as if this has nothing to do with him.

The same Bludger comes swiftly towards me again, and there’s not enough time to get out of the way. There is time though, to get rid of it. I know I shouldn’t. But it’s either that or get hit. I make the choice on the moment and whip out my wand muttering a curse as I go. A curse I’m not supposed to know.

A Dark curse.

The type we’re supposed to learn how to protect ourselves from, not perform.


The bludger blows up in my face and the bits of it float to the ground. I’m suspended in midair, and I realize all eyes are on me, and no one’s playing the game anymore.

I look around the stands and I see Sirius’s disappointment, Remus’s surprise, and Regulus’s smirk.

I’m so screwed.

Everyone’s going to think I’m some sort of dark witch now getting ready for my debut as Voldemort’s little princess. I’m struck with the unfairness of it all. Regulus taught me that curse before I went to Beauxbaton so I could protect myself, he’d said. How stupid of me to use that curse of all things.

Now no one’s going to be talking about Remus and I tomorrow. Instead, they’ll be gossiping about how I’m an evil witch.

At least I won’t be able to hear any of it.

AN:  I've never written a story so fast before!  This is kinda fun =)
I hope you all are loving this story so far.
If not...well, I don't like you.
Just kidding!

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