SILENT [1] || HARRY POTTER ⚡️

eight ; foreign schools

A/n: another chapter. I'm thankful that y'all are reading my trash stories. Also a v short summary of Ophelia's years from first to third year. pic is NOT MINE, i got it from tumblr, still trying to find the author.

"No Ron!"

"But it looks just about right--"

Darcy grabbed the tent pole out of his hands when we has going to stab it into the ground. "It doesn't got spikes, now, does it?" she said, "Or else you'd have stuck every pole to the ground and tossed a bed sheet over it?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Blimey, Darce, you've got quite the bite."

Darcy handed Harry the poll, since he and Hermione were more experienced with this.

Earlier in the morning, Darcy actually woke up very late, tossing and turning at the thought of Harry's scar hurting. Her mood had been cranky and she was even more cranky when Harry hadn't told Hermione or Ron.

She didn't even plan her outfit, and she was wearing a wind breaker that was so colorful with blues and pinks and oranges it could really blind anyone's eyes. And to make it worse, Darcy ripped her jeans when she tripped on her own boots on a trees root. Mr. Weasley had cleaned the mud off her and healed her cut. Though he couldn't fix her jeans, and the windbreaker was doing no good to keep her warm.

Harry had even worried that she didn't eat a lot for breakfast. He was going to offer her a bar, but he saw her pull out a packed sandwich a take a big bite out of it. When he and Hermione finished setting the tents, Mr. Weasley had sent the four to go get water.

Darcy held tight around Hermione, her eyes glancing around the familiar faces. There was Ernie MacMillan, a Hufflepuff that called out Darcy's bright jacket as Irish. Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw with pretty features had made Harry slosh his water in front of him.

"Smooth," Darcy snickered as she carried yet another tank of water. But, her water also spilled when she caught a group of teenagers from many. There were obviously the European foreign schools, but what caught her eye was the Irish clad American group from Ilvernmorny.

"You okay?" Hermione asked, lightly.

"Yeah, fine," Darcy said dismissively, her eyes adverting the American group when they made their way past them.

The group got more similar--it was a mix of Pukwudgie and Horned Serpent students, they're faces light with laughter and chants. Though there were a few who supported Bulgaria.

"Hey...Is that--and Darcy?" said a feminine voice as they walked by.

Darcy whipped her head around at the mention of her name. There, the blonde with stunning blue eyes and a perked nose was staring wide-eyed at the group of four. They locked eyes, and suddenly Darcy felt her heart drop.

A fellow friend of Darcy in her first two years of Ilvermorny was dead-stop watching.

A force so strong pulled Darcy's attention away, her stomach feeling empty with nervousness.

"Darcy!" the voice yelled.

Hermione gave a weird look around. "Did someone say your name, Darcy?"

"You heard that too?" Ron said as well. "Who'd be calling over Darcy?"

Pauline Johnson had caught up to the group of four, her long curly hair was like an bush on her head as it bounced. Harry had glanced at Darcy, not sure who this girl is as she looked like Crevey in a way.

Darcy gave Pauline a nervous smile, clutching the tank of water closer to her.

No one in North America knew who Sirius Black was. It was the reason why Ophelia had moved there, because no one knew who they were as opposed to Europe. Pauline Johnson was a friend of Darcy. They often spent their afternoons together.