Sunlight?
Noooooo, thought Jillian as she squinted her eyes open and glared at the window next to her bed. Do I really have to wake up?
Jillian sighed and groaned as she sat up. She stood up and, avoiding the mirror, pulled on a robe and started to brush through the tangled mess that her hair always liked to become whenever she slept.
None of the others who shared her dormitory were there, but that wasn’t a surprise. She had always prized her morning hours, and the others didn’t seem to want to change that. In fact, they hardly ever noticed her except in the mornings.
Jillian stretched her stiff muscles and walked out of the dormitory. When she reached the Great Hall, she slumped into a seat at the end of the table and pulled out her schedule. She groaned when the first thing she saw was Herbology. It was not her subject.
All the first years - still getting used to the idea of being witches and wizards - were staring in awe at the ceiling and bumping into everyone else including her. She almost charmed some of them to get them out of her way, but Jillian resisted.
She yawned quietly and wolfed down a piece of toast smothered in marmalade. She took a sip of milk and rushed upstairs to see if she could meet Myrtle before she had to go to class.
When she reached the girl’s bathroom, she banged open the door to the sound of a girl wailing. Myrtle screeched, “Who’s in this bathroom. Can’t you tell I’m busy?”
Jillian rolled her eyes and put her bag of books down. “Myrtle, how many times do I have to come in here for you to know it’s me.”
Myrtle came out of her stall and glared at Jillian with puffy red eyes. “I was just having a wonderful time reliving my death, and you came and d-disturbed m-me.” She started sobbing again and rushed back into her stall.
Jillian bit her lip and wondered - like she always did when Myrtle rushed off in one of her moods - if she should follow her and comfort her, but the first time she tried that, Myrtle had almost plunged her down the toilet. She did not want to repeat the experience.
Instead she called out, “I’ll come back after lunch. Just remember that you have a choice whether you want to be depressed or not.” Myrtle answered her with loud wails of despair. “I guess it’s the first one, then,” Jillian muttered as she stepped out of the bathroom and made her way toward the greenhouses.
Herbology passed as usual with Jillian getting bitten - today, by some strange two headed plant - at least six or seven times, and the teacher, Professor Sprout, being busy with the Hufflepuff students and not noticing her raised hand for help.
Then, it was Transfiguration. This was her favorite subject because she could actually do it. Well, this and Charms. She never raised her hand, though, and Jillian never knew why. It was as if someone had frozen her lips, and she couldn’t ever utter a word let alone the right answer when everyone was looking at her expectantly. She just followed instructions and tried to go at the same slow pace as the others.
Next, it was lunch, and Jillian tried to get to Myrtle’s bathroom, but it was flooded, so she didn’t bother. She went to Defense Against the Dark Arts and did almost as badly as she did in Herbology. It was a good thing she like to read about creatures like vampires and banshees, or she would have failed the class forever ago. Whenever she was faced with dark creatures - like the boggart last year - she was frozen, and the teacher always had to save her. She was never chosen to go first or even in the line to go against the creatures. She could do the spells; she just couldn’t do them with the creatures.
Next was History of Magic, which Jillian called her “nap period.” She read the things she learned from Professor Binns, and it was much more interesting than when he droned on about it.
Then, it was wonderful freedom and dinner in the Great Hall. After she had eaten, Jillian went to the library. It was her favorite place in the whole castle because it had two of her best friends in one: the books, and the librarian.
She slid into her usual chair at her usual table and sighed as she leaned back and breathed in the smell of books. She caught Madam Pince’s eye and smiled. Everyone else thought she was so stiff and austere, but Jillian thought she was interesting. She knew everything about books and history and spells, and she fascinated Jillian with her stories. They had become friends when Jillian had accidentally pushed over a bookcase when she reached to far to get an interesting looking book. Having detention in the library had started her relationship with Madam Pince, and ever since then, they had often stayed up late discussing topics from the Ministry of Magic to dragons.
Right now, Madam Pince was busy, so Jillian just looked around. There were a few people there which surprised her a little since rarely anyone ever came into the library on the first day back to Hogwarts.
One person caught her interest. He was holding a book in front of his face, but every once in a while he would look above the edge and glance around as if he was expecting someone. Jillian watched him and finally figured out why he seemed familiar to her. That boy on the train that she had seen when she woke up!
She narrowed her eyes and saw him shake his head and stand up. Jillian saw his robes and scarf. He was Slytherin, obviously. As a Gryffindor, she was a sworn enemy of Slytherin. She stared at him boldly and defiantly, and he noticed her stare. He raised an eyebrow scornfully and exited the library.
Jillian stuck out her tongue and pulled a book in front of her face. She would just ignore him from now on. He was obviously just like every other Slytherin, but she’d never seen him before. That was different. She was sure she knew every face in the castle because she could watch people, and they wouldn’t even know she was there. Very interesting.
Jillian shook her head and put the weird boy out of her head as Madam Pince walked over and greeted her. She made herself comfortable and started to ask questions. This was the chaos of life. Curiosity, magic, people. All of it.