Chapter Sixteen: Jackson the Dalek

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Chapter Sixteen: Jackson the Dalek

After breakfast, Headmistress McGonagall dismissed us back to our Common Rooms to go get prepared for our classes.

Since I was already dressed, I snatched up the big bag I'd packed full of my supplies- three quills, ten 100-sheet notebooks I'd gotten for cheap, my coursebooks, and, of course, carefully tucked into a special pocket, my wand.

Pinned up on a giant corkboard in the Common Room were the first and second-year schedules. I took a mental image of the first-year class list. First up was Charms, then Transfiguration, which I'd heard was difficult, then Defense Against the Dark arts, then a class period of free time, presumably for lunch. Right after lunch was Herbology, History of Magic, and then finally Potions, which I'd heard was notoriously hard.

I bit my lip to stifle a grin. I couldn't wait for my first day as a Witch, despite everything I'd previously thought.

Still studying the schedule, I jumped at a tap on the shoulder.

It was Imogene. Her robe was dragging on the ground, and her bookbag was tightened to the shortest setting.

"The Prefect will show us around on the first few days," she said in her quiet voice.

"That's good," I said absently. "Do you know if we have our classes with the other houses?"

Imogene nodded. "I think we are with one other house, but I'm not sure which one."

Just then, the Prefect who had escorted Eleanor to the hospital wing called out across the room, standing on a table.

"First years! Over here! Classes are starting soon, I need to show you where they are!"

Quickly, a small mob of eleven-year-olds clustered around the table like baby birds waiting for dinner.

We waited for another minute or so as the remainder of the first years trickled in.

"Okay, you will be having Charms as your first class. Stick with me, it's easy to get lost in the castle even if you've been here for years. If you have any questions, anytime is good but now is probably best."

I decided to speak up. "Will we be having classes with a different house?"

The Prefect gave a small nod. "They mix it up every seven years. This year, we're with Slytherin." she replied, a hint of contempt on her words. "Any other questions? No? Good."

And with that, she leapt from the table and headed out of the common room.

The first years, practically lemmings, followed suit. I swallowed a laugh; it was like the little tiny Gallifreyans on the very first day at the Academy.

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The walk to Charms proved to be an excellent hike.

We crisscrossed stairs in a seemingly aimless pattern, the Prefect in the lead pointing out the occasional trick step or badly-behaved painting.

Finally, we arrived at the wooden door of the classroom.

The room itself was modest- tall windows and tall ceilings, but not much else, save for two sets of wooden risers and a desk.

The Prefect gave us a wave and hurried away. A small, high-pitched voice called from within the room.

"Hello, students! Welcome to Charms! Please take a seat!"

My blue-robed Ravenclaw kin and I all bustled to the left side of the room. I took a seat near the top, next to Imogene. Eleanor came in a few minutes after, looking perfectly chipper apart from the bandage holding two of her fingers together. She hurried up the risers, falling heavily into the seat on my other side.

There was an eruption of sound as the students began to unpack, chatting and laughing with friends.

I studiously pulled out both of my Charms books and my wand, stacking the books neatly to my left and my wand to my right.

Eleanor's books had exploded all over the table, it appeared, and her long, cherrywood wand was shooting purple sparks and spinning wildly.

Imogene had produced only one book, and was clutching her frail willow wand.

I knew the wand chose the wizard, but their personalities really shone from their wands. It was almost eerie.

Eleanor had clumped her books into a sort of messy pile, and prodded my shoulder with her finger.

"You have a REALLY neat looking wand, Amelia!" she said.

I picked up my silver and green wand. I suppose it really did look rather unique, especially in comparison to the other First Years.

With a loud BANG as the door was thrown open, a Slytherin boy with long, brown hair swaggered in.

He turned to a small, rat-faced boy behind him and said, very audiably, "look at those friendless Ravenclaws. Well, I guess the books are friends enough!"

I hated him immediately.

The clustered group of Slytherins all laughed.

"That was not even a notable insult, nor an accurate one." I said loudly. "I'd rather have books for friends than an idiot like you," I muttered under my breath. I regretted it quickly- I wanted friends. Desperately.

The Professor of Charms then made an appearance. He was a remarkably short, squat fellow with a permanently wrinkled brow, but who still looked rather kindly. "Quiet down!" he called. "Quiet!" He waved his hands wildly.

The brown-haired Slytherin boy, the slimy Dalek, scanned the Ravenclaw crowd and made a smug face at me.

With a mental peek, I saw that his name was Jackson. I didn't care. His name was now Slimy Dalek in my mind. I just could just hope that I didn't say it aloud.

A/N: Amelia's got an enemy already! Jackson's based on this guy that I hated in 3rd grade. (Yes, I still remember him. That's how bad he was.) I suppose that's my own subtle revenge. No offense to the Jacksons out there (Except for you, Jackson L. You foot-stomping, dinosaur-destroying Dalek. Offense INTENDED! Sorry.)

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