Chapter Three- Fay Jones and the New Girl






I watched carefully as the new girl was welcomed into Hogwarts by Dumbledore. The huge entrance hall doors creaked slowly shut as she shivered, her eyes glued to the headmaster in an almost creepy way. Professor McGonagall stood by Dumbledore, her emerald green hat perched on her head like a giant bird on a nest.



I kept behind the pillar, my wand gripped in my hand. The girl was tall, skinny, and had pale blonde hair. She wore a plain set on wizard robes, over a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and she played with her wand in her long, white hands.




“Frida, if you’ll follow me…” said McGonagall, and she lead her down the corridor I was hiding in.



I stepped out quickly, and bent down, pretending to tie my shoelace.



“Ah! Miss Jones!”



I rolled my eyes and looked up to see the teacher and the new girl looking at me intensely. Or, the girl was, McGonagall just seemed to glare at me, as always.




“Yes, Professor?” I said, smiling politely. I hated McGonagall with all my passion, but I had to be pleasant to her, otherwise, my mother would hate me. My mother was an annoying, Hogwarts loving Witch whose main goal in life was to destroy her children’s social life and make them do well in school, regardless of the consequences. My brother Luke, and my younger sister Jane, also felt this way, though they always seemed to be my mother’s favourite children. My mother hated me because, although I carried her brains, I had my father’s blonde hair and outlook on life. Sly, determined, but caring, my father was almost exactly like me- or I was exactly like my father.



“Jones, I want you to escort Miss Helgurson to the Great Hall. She’s been sorted into Gryffindor, and she needs to be shown around. I’m sure your cousin can help with that.”




My cousin was Kit Jones. We shared a last name (kind of, she was Llewellyn-Jones) and one direct family member- we talked occasionally, we went to the same ‘must go to’ parties, but other than that, we were not in each other’s lives. To me, it wasn’t even remotely sad, but she did mention to me on odd occasions that we should talk more. Like my usual self, I ignored her.





“Of course, Professor.” I mumbled, glancing at the new girl. McGonagall nodded sharply, turned on her heels, and walked down the corridor, presumably to her office.



The silence was strangling.



“So…” I began, fiddling with my green and silver tie. “You’ve been sorted into Gryffindor…”



“Yes.” said the girl, looking at me as we walked slowly to the Great Hall. “I am very excited.”



Her accent…it was odd! I couldn’t place my finger on it- or, I didn’t know the accent at all!




“Where are you from?” I asked carefully, as we approached the huge, wooden doors.



“I’m from Iceland.” she replied. “I have just moved here.”



“Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll like it here.” I said, and opened the doors, welcoming her to the Great Hall.



She followed me as I lead her to the Gryffindor table with great discomfort. I was given several distasteful looks as I tapped Kit on the shoulder. She was sitting next to Giselle Lorenz, the annoying, loud Italian girl, and Lily Evans, the smart red-head- the smartest girl in our year, I was sure of it.




“Kit.” I snapped, “This is Frida. You’re to look after her. She’s in your House after all.”



Kit smiled a pretty smile at the new student, and shuffled along the seat, making room for her.



“Uh, thanks Fay.” Kit mumbled, “So…Frida! Come sit here…”



I walked away too quickly to see how they got on.







“What were you doing with the new Big Head?” asked Cassandra Parkinson, a pug faced girl with a solid mass of black, long hair.



My House had a name for the Gryffindor’s- Big Heads. They were the house of chivalry and bravery, but some of them also tended to be obnoxious and full of themselves. I hated the main group of boys in the Gryffindor House- the Marauders, as they called themselves. The group consisted of James Potter, Quidditch ‘God’ and leader of the group: Sirius Black, traitor to his pure-blooded family and ‘devilishly’ handsome: Peter Pettigrew, the short, useless creature who worshiped the ground they walked on: and Remus Lupin, the quiet, thoughtful one of the group, once a prefect. For some odd reason, I hated the Marauders but liked Remus. He was my only (and it shall stay like that) Gryffindor friend: brave, yes, but he also was thoughtful, like a Ravenclaw, loyal, like a Hufflepuff, and sly: he could sell sour milk to a cow. But he was my friend…my Gryffindor friend.









Remus laughed as Storm's potion exploded-everywhere.



Green gunk.






"Miss Griggins!" Professor Slughorn shouted as he wandered over to her table. His small, ginger moustache moved like a caterpillar as he frowned upon her work. With one smooth wave of his stubby wand, the mess was gone.



"What's wrong, Miss Llewellyn-Jones?!" Slughorn shouted across the dungeon at Kit, who's desk was bubbling and steaming. Lily, who was working with Severus Snape, was trying to sort it out for her, but it wasn’t working.




He wobbled over to Kit , cleaning it up with a small swish of his wand.



James was working with Sirius, trying, without success, to make the potion turn green. In the end, they poured food colouring in it. It exploded. Again.



With a mixture of swear words, screams and groans, the class were covered in pink goo.



“Shite.” Spat Remus under his breath as he turned to Fay, whose eyes were wide and her face pale.



“I think it’s gonna explode.” she croaked, and pulling him under the desk, they ducked as their potion, too, exploded.



“Mister Lupin! Miss Jones! What on earth-“



“Sorry, Professor, I added the fireflies in at the wrong time…” muttered Remus, arising from under the desk and peering at the smouldering cauldron. James looked over at them both, and gave Remus a wink. Fay gave him the middle finger quickly, and returned to smiling at Slughorn, her head of house. He was standing solemnly at their bench, looking at them both with a disappointed smile.




“Honestly, Mister Lupin, Miss Jones, I would have thought better of you two!” he snapped, but his face softened as they both blushed. “Come now, we’ll forget about it, and…try again.” With another swish of his short wand, the mess was cleared, and a new set of ingredients appeared on their desk.



Time to try again, thought Remus sourly, and flicked through his potions book.









“Wormtail, what classes are you taking this year?” asked Remus with a small frown, curious. Peter never took Potions at OWL level, so he wasn’t taking potions now…



“I’m taking Herbology, Muggle Studies, Charms…Divination though I hate it, and Defence against the Dark Arts, along with Transfiguration. We have to take those…”



“I know, I know…” Remus mumbled under his breath. “I was thinking about what classes I had with you, that’s all.”



“And what do you have with me?” asked Peter, munching on a piece of cake. They sat at the Gryffindor table at lunch.



“Um…Muggle Studies, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration.”



“And what else are you taking?” Peter asked. Remus sighed impatiently, wondering why he even bothered telling Peter anything- he’d never remember.



“Same as last year, Wormtail…Muggle Studies, Potions, Ancient Runes, History of Magic, Astronomy…and then the ‘must-dos’.” Charms, DADA (though you didn’t have to take it, most people did) and Transfiguration, Remus finished, in his head. God he was taking a lot of subjects. NEWTs were going to be hell.



“Padfoot!” exclaimed Peter as Sirius came into the Great Hall, followed by James, eagerly holding his broom and a pair of flying goggles. The ecstatic expression on his face allowed Remus to prepare himself for the babble of Quidditch that was about to come, in three, two, one…






The two boys blinked in shock, and Sirius smiled at James warmly.






“Of course, Prongs.” Remus muttered, with a smile. “Well done!”



“Does that mean I can try out for the Quidditch team this year Prongs?” Peter asked, and Sirius gave a little snigger as he sat down between Peter and Remus.



“You can try out, Pete.” He said, “But you’ve got to train a lot.”



Peter’s face fell and he returned to his piece of cake.









“Potter is Quidditch captain?” snarled Lily lowly, her voice dark and full of anger. “Really?!”



“Yep…” muttered Kit, wiping her fiery hair from her pale, freckled face. “Quidditch is going to be interesting this year. I hope I’m still Seeker…”



“Same,” whispered Storm. “I like being Keeper.”



“He’s so arrogant.” Lily hissed disapprovingly, leaning back in her seat.



“I don’t get why you’re winding yourself up about it.” came a dark voice, from the corner.



It was Ophelia Jencks, better known as Phee. She sat on the old, red arm chair that was positioned in the corner of the common room, clutching a huge book and her knees were crossed. Her skin was flawless and pale, her eyes dark and watching. She was considered one of the most beautiful people in the year, and only the Gryffindor girls and Remus knew why…Ophelia was a vampire.



“I…urgh.” Lily said, thinking. “Nor do I, really.”



“Well, it’s annoying!” snapped Giz, who was leaning over her homework, frowning. “Just because you don’t ever get annoyed, Ophelia, doesn’t mean Lily can’t be annoyed at the one boy she hates on this very earth!”



Phee frowned menacingly and huffed, glaring at Giz. Lily flushed the colour of beetroot, clashing with her hair: she hated people arguing, but she did enjoy arguing herself, so she didn’t say anything.



“Shut up, Ophelia.” Giz spat, flicking her long dark hair.



Emotionless, Phee stood up, holding the book to her chest, and walked from the common room at a fast pace, the silence following her like a ghost.

Track This Story:    Feed


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!