My bed seemed to groan beneath me as I rolled over, sticking my head beneath my pillow. What was that horrible yelling sound? Then I recognized the voice. Filch.
“Get up, get up!” he yelled from what sounded like right above me on the stairs. “We’ve got a lot to do today. Kids today, don’t wake up at a normal time anymore…” Blinking sleepily I glanced up at the grandfather clock that was stationed near my bed. Five-thirty in the morning? That was preposterous! Only house elves woke up this early.
Mr. Filch must have started to jump up and down now, because little bits of ceiling were showering my head. “I’m up!” I yelled, rolling out of bed. “Please, can you stop jumping? You’re breaking my ceiling.” I had no answer, but the ceiling ceased falling on my head as I pulled off my nightgown and put on a pair of green robes that were utterly disgusting. I had learned something during my two weeks cleaning. These robes had stains all over them, and were ripped at bottom. Perfect for cleaning the school. Brushing my teeth and then pulling my hair into messy braids, I opened the entrance to my apartment just as I was pulling on my Mary Jane shoes.
“About time,” he said, glaring at me. Nobody could glare like Mr. Filch. “You ran off last night before we were finished cleaning. Do it again and I’ll hang you by your wrists from the ceiling.” I gulped, but nodded. He seemed satisfied with his threat. Mrs. Norris stared up at me. She was, I had discovered, an evil cat. She was always following me and hissing at me if I missed the tiniest spot. Oh how I hated her, and her master too.
“I left you the Entrance Hall to do,” Mr. Filch said, grinning evilly. “Mop’s in the closet over there. I’ll be in my office, and by the time I come out I want to see this Hall spotless.” He turned and left me standing in the doorway, Mrs. Norris right next to him. I closed my eyes for a moment. How bad could the Entrance Hall be? Closing the entrance behind me I stepped out to assess the damage.
I gasped. Mud was everywhere. On the floors, on the bottom of the walls, footprints leading into the Great Hall. My legs felt weak underneath me. I hadn’t noticed all this yesterday- there had always been a great crowd of people blocking the floor from view. Was there any possible way I could get out of this? No. Sighing, I went to get the mop.
It seemed like hours later the floor was finally clean. Leaning on my mop I looked around the room for any sign of mud. There was none. My robes were covered with the stuff, and I had taken my shoes off and placed them on the stairs to protect them. My socks were black (though they had been white when I put them on.) My braids were coming undone, and sweat dripped down my face. I couldn’t remember the last time I had sweated. I never enjoyed large amounts of physical activity at home. But I was finally done, and that was worth a little sweat. That is, until I heard Professor Marchbanks behind me.
“Miss Pralent!” she said, standing a little farther away from me than what was necessary. “What are you doing out here? You should have eaten by now!”
“But Professor Marchbanks,” I said, a little confused, “none of the other students are down for breakfast yet.” I would have noticed if they’d come down. Or up, in the case of the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs.
“Well you’re not a student, are you?” she said. That tossed off remark seemed to pierce me in the stomach. “You’ll have to go eat now, with the students. They’ll be down any minute.” She glanced at my robes as I stood up. I think she winced. “Perhaps a good disinfectant would also be helpful.” And then she was gone, up the stairs and towards her office.
Placing the mop in the corner, I was about to enter the Great Hall when I heard laughter behind me. Was it Alta and her gang of Gryffindor girls? I turned around slowly, dreading the taunting she would undoubtedly have in store for me. But I had a pleasant surprise when I completed my turn. It was not Alta after all. It was Guinevere, walking down the stairs and laughing with some other Ravenclaw girls. My face broke into a smile, and I ran up to greet her just as she and her friends reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Hi, Gwen!” I said, jumping up and down with excitement. “I’m so glad you’re here! I thought nobody was going to talk to me, but now I won’t have to worry about them, because I’ll have you! I’m Cassandra Pralent,” I added to the two girls she was standing with. One of them, a stocky girl with black hair, nudged Guinevere and giggled.
“Do you know her, Gwenny?” Gwenny? What a horrible nickname. What would she call me when we were friends? Cassie? I nearly shuddered at the very thought. Perhaps that was why Gwen looked so uncomfortable. “Well?” the girl persisted, and Gwen shrugged.
“Our parents were friends,” she muttered, avoiding my gaze. I was confused. We had played together at least once a week, more when we were younger. What was she talking about?
“Don’t be silly, Gwen,” I said, “I’m sure they won’t feel threatened by our friendship.” I gave the stocky girl and the other one, who had wildly curly brown hair, big smiles. “What are your names?” They seemed like nice girls, after all. Maybe we could all become the best of friends!
“I’m Jennifer,” said the one with curly hair, “and that’s Beth,” she said. “And my mum said I shouldn’t associate with squibs. So bye.” Jennifer walked away and Beth followed, bumping into me hard as she did. Gwen didn’t look at me as she scurried after her friends- of which I was not one.
I followed them into the Great Hall with a burning face and red eyes.
*
After nibbling at some toast it was time for my first class of the day, Herbology. Gardening had never been my cup of tea. But at least we would be outside. I wouldn’t have time to shower before class, and I was as dirty as I could possibly be. I only managed to stop back at my rooms for my school bag that had been supplied by Professor McGonagall and filled with supplies I would never have even touched before coming to Hogwarts, they were so dirty. I was certain Mother and Father couldn’t have had anything to do with it- it must have come out of the orphan’s fund. I had heard Mother discussing it at tea a few years ago.
I was sitting in a velvet chair, looking like a princess in my lacy white robes (at least according to Mother) while she discussed the orphan’s fund with her good friend Madam Smith. She had a son who was already at Hogwarts, and loved to tell me stories about his immense skill. A nice woman, though she had been very critical of the orphan’s fund. But if Mother knew I had to use it I’m sure she would have sent me supplies immediately.
I reached the Greenhouses just as class was about to begin, standing at a table near the entrance. I had never been in the Greenhouses before. Professor Sprout gave me a small smile before beginning the lesson. I stood out like a chocolate frog in a bowl of Drooble’s in my robes. All the students here were in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Including, unfortunately, Alta and her friends.
“Welcome to Herbology,” Professor Sprout announced, her voice projecting through the greenhouse. “In this class you will be learning about a number of dangerous plants and occasionally observing the proper way to tend to said plants…” My mind began to wander as Professor Sprout continued to talk. I could barely keep my eyes open, and my head was drooping when I heard my name being called.
“Pralent? Pralent!” I turned around sleepily and found Alta at the table next to me, calling my name and grinning wickedly. “Is the little squib girl tired? How’d you get in here, anyway?” My face burned, but Professor Sprout was too busy explaining the basics of fertilizers to notice. I stared at the table, trying to ignore Alta and her friends.
“Maybe she doesn’t speak English,” suggested the one of the girls standing with Alta. She ran her hands through her short, boyish haircut as she spoke, ruffling the black locks that looked like they were trying to curl. Alta smirked, giving her a high five under the table.
“Nice, Ophelia,” she said, but Professor Sprout finally heard them and gave them a sharp look. Alta, Ophelia, and the other sidekick (an Asian girl named Emily, I believe) stood up straighter, and Alta wiped the smirk off of her face.
“Miss Abrams, since you seem inclined to talk while I am talking,” Professor Sprout said sternly, “why don’t you tell me what type of fertilizer you should use when planting alihotsy bushes?” Why was Alta smiling? Professor Sprout would probably take points from Gryffindor when she got the answer wrong. It had to be an act.
“Dragon scales mixed with Essence of Insanity, Professor,” Alta stated, smiling sweetly at Professor Sprout. “Because Essence of Insanity stimulates the hysteria-causing qualities of the leaves, and dragon scales make the mixture solid.” My jaw dropped. Even Professor Sprout looked surprised.
“Well, um.” Professor Sprout seemed flustered, but she collected herself quickly. “Five points to Gryffindor, then.” This was officially one of the worst days of my life. But it was about to get worse. “Miss Pralent, can you tell me which potion turns to poison when the leaves are added?” I gulped. How in the world was I supposed to know that? I had been too busy cleaning to look at any of my school books.
“I don’t know, Professor,” I mumbled, not looking at Professor Sprout. I could see some of the Hufflepuffs grinning. (It goes without saying that Alta’s crowd wore smirks.) Professor Sprout nodded, but did not smile at me.
“I just mentioned it, Miss Pralent, if you had been listening. Euphoria,” she said to the class, “is the answer.” She continued to talk for another half hour, but I wasn’t listening. I was just happy to leave when class was over.
Other students walked in groups, but I walked alone, staring at the ground. I could hear Alta chatting happily to Emily and Ophelia behind her, and a group of Gryffindor boys were comparing chocolate frog cards. The Hufflepuffs were all walking together as they discussed the lesson. But as they got ahead of me, I realized that there was one girl missing from the crowd.
“Hi, Cassandra,” I heard behind me, and I jumped about a mile, dropping my books. The Gryffindor boys burst out laughing, and I turned around to see who the culprit was. It was Sarah Morgan, the missing Hufflepuff with the colorless hair and skin. She smiled at me as she pushed her glasses up. I didn’t answer, just knelt down to pick up my things. She also leaned over to help. “I’m Sarah,” she said, sticking out her hand as we stood up. I sped up to get away from her, and she followed.
“What do you want?” I asked curtly. I wanted nothing to do with this girl. She was a Hufflepuff, which everyone knew was the worst house. She looked strange. And judging from the Muggle comic sticking out of her bag, she was a Muggle-born. I could do much, much better than her.
“I thought you might want a friend,” she said frankly, and I sped up again. Once again, she followed. “Because everybody hates you, really, and I don’t see why. Nobody would tell me why. What’s a squib, anyway?” I gaped at her.
“It’s someone with magic parents who doesn’t have magic,” I said, resigning myself to the fact that she wasn’t going to go away- though I did manage to keep a few feet between us. I didn’t want to actually brush up against her paper-white skin. It was creepy looking. But if she noticed, she didn’t say anything.
“Is that all?” she said, grinning. “From the way some of the other kids talk you’d think it was some terrible disease or something. Do you want to eat lunch together?” I was shocked at this girl. Couldn’t she tell I didn’t want to be friends with her? I may have been a squib, but that didn’t mean I had to sink to befriending creepy looking Hufflepuff Muggle-born first years.
“No.” I shook my head for emphasis. “I don’t want to be friends with you.” Luckily we had reached the castle by then, and I was able to turn down a corridor where she did not follow. Taking a shortcut to the Great Hall I ate at the staff table while she sat with a girl and a boy at the Hufflepuff table, reading aloud from her comic book. Occasionally she would glance up at me, but I ignored her, staring only at my plate.
Late Bloomer by Just Tink
Chapter Notes: thanks to my fantastic beta once again, potterphile12. She rocks!