Wretched little beggar

A New Meaning of Freedom

Hardly a week had passed since she left London, and this school had already made her weak. Crying because she had humiliated herself? She hadn't done that since she was five. And all because of that awful teacher. It hadn't gone unnoticed to the young girl that Snape had slipped and had almost called her "Pott-" something. But try as she might, she couldn't find an explanation.

And then there was the problem of the goo. She was still covered in the stuff, and certainly didn't want to reenter the castle in that state. She took out her wand, and pointed it at herself. They were still mostly on theory during most of the classes, and she hadn't done a real spell yet.

-"Scourgify. Scourgify. Scourgify!"

As she had expected, nothing happened. The man had also added a hand movement, which she hadn't had the time to see. Having no other option, she resolved to the old method.

She took her cloak off and threw it in the lake, where the water was shallow. Then she undressed, keeping nothing but her underwear, and went in herself. The coldness of the water didn't bother her, but M didn't feel comfortable in that much water.

After washing her cloak and her hair, she got out, hung the wet piece of cloth on a nearby low branch, and put the rest of her uniform back on. She then laid down on the soft grass to wait for it to dry. Slowly, the song of the birds and the soft september wind made her close her eyes.

With a start, M woke up two hours and half later. She jumped up, grabbed her still slightly wet cloak, and sprinted towards the castle. She didn't want to erupt in the great hall in the middle of lunch, especially not after the earlier events. She didn't mind skipping lunch, it certainly wouldn't be the first time. Having a free period afterwards, she had an hour and a half to waste. So, naturally, she decided to go explore the forbidden third-floor corridor.

As she entered the school, she was stopped by a sneering voice:

-"Oy, mudblood! What happened to you? Did you jump in the lake to try and clean your dirty mudblood blood? Quite a show you did in potions class" drawled the blond slytherin.

M had already lost her patience when she hadn't been able to retaliate to Snape, and she did the easiest thing she could do without giving away her cover. She walked towards Draco Malfoy, and punched him hard in the nose.

She heard a satisfying crack, turned on her heels, and walked up the marble staircase.

When M got to the third-floor, she found the door locked. Thankfully, she did have some lock-picking talents, and a minute later, a click was to be heard. She hesitated for a second with her hand on the handle, wondering what could possibly be inside. But guesses weren't going to get her very far, so, without further ado, she thrust the heavy wooden door open.

The young gryffindor heard a growl and looked up. She was looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. The young girl certainly wasn't expecting this. Who keeps a dangerous giant three-headed dog in a school full of children? She stayed frozen for an instant, then her reflexes kicked in. She quickly scanned the room, backed away, got out, and slammed the door behind her.

The dog was guarding something. M was sure of it. She had clearly seen the small trapdoor it was standing on. But what was inside? She had no idea. And surprisingly, she didn't want to find out. Maybe later, but not now.

So, calmly, as if nothing had just happened, she made her way to her next class.

The next Thursday, all the first-years could talk about only one thing : the upcoming flying lesson. M hadn't actually read the notice put up in the common room, but she had heard enough to understand that they were going to fly on a broomstick with the slytherins.