Delicate // Poppy Sweeting

2

When I awoke the next morning in the cold dormitories of the Slytherin dungeon, it was clear the reality of everything still hadn't hit me.

After the feast last night Professor Weasley led me to the dungeons and told me about the password, which then led to a massive snake curling into the shape of a doorway, and somehow that was how I was supposed to enter. And this was normal.

I need to stop being surprised by this magical world where almost anything seems possible, but I am still so new I feel like a child again.

My roommates were already gone and I let out a heavy sigh. The three girls didn't seem too happy I was staying with them, and they were apart of some group forming that believes I am a dark wizard only here to contribute to fueling a brewing war. I barely knew what they were talking about so I tried to ignore it for now, I just hope it doesn't get worse.

I put on my uniform again and before leaving the room, I checked out my face in the mirror. From the dragon attack, there was a deep, jagged scar across the left side of my face. That beast just barely missed my eye. My light blonde hair was practically a mess, so I tied it half up since I don't have time this morning to wash it. It made the scar look bigger than I thought it would be and it doesn't exactly help my more than mysterious appearance here.

Professor Weasley wanted to meet me this morning before my first class and I figured she'd be waiting outside for me soon. I grab my bag I was given by the staff, because of my sudden loss of supplies, and head out towards the common room.

It was busy with students of all ages, the younger ones staring at me in awe while most of the older students showed me their disgust and distrust. A stark difference to how they acted just mere hours ago. I guess I'll be spending the morning on my own for now.

I make my way through the dimly lit room, evading tables full of judgmental teenagers, and towards the spiral staircase that leads out of our common room. I was however stopped by a group of students, looking to be in the same year as me. With a sigh I lazily look them all over.

The girl in front crossed her arms and glared at me behind her brown eyes. The rest of them following her lead. I can only assume they're all very close or just too stupid to form their own opinions.

I give this leader of sorts a half hearted smile and attempt to move around them. She scoffs and roughly shoves be backwards a few steps. I can feel my annoyance growing by the second but I knew this wasn't the time nor place to act on it. With a clenched jaw I turn my attention back to this dark haired bully.

"The names Imelda. Imelda Reyes. You're the one who barged in with Professor Fig last night aren't you?" She smiles, and her friends behind her let out a few chuckles. "Interesting tactic on your first day...taking all the attention away from the first-years, don't you think?"

"I'm not sure that's what I would call it. I know you want something so what is it?" I spit out, glancing around me to see the pitiful attempts by others close by to hide their eavesdropping. I guess Fig was right when he said a new fifth-year is highly irregular, but he forgot to mention how public everything would become.

Imelda seemed a little shaken by my response. "Well...um, don't start thinking you can take a spot from one of us on the quidditch team. We're looking to win the cup this year. Bad things happen to fresh meat, and tryouts are coming up."

"I'll keep it in mind," I roll my eyes and shove past them, very clearly hearing their threat but not having the energy to deal with it.

What a first day already.

At the top of the stairs was Professor Weasley. I let out a sigh of relief at the sight. She adjusts her glasses as I approach and I notice there is large book under her arm that looks older than the school itself.