𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖘 ─ Harry Potter Universe Original

03

"Look! Owls!" A first year Hufflepuff exclaimed, pointing his small finger to the big windows of the hall. It was one shiny morning in Hogwarts, and everyone was enjoying their delicious first meal. Owls hooted as they rushed into the hall, landing on each of their owner's shoulders or even landing on their soup. Most of the owls went to the first years - their parents were worried sick of their children: were day doing well, is anything wrong. On the opposite side, sixth years didn't have that much owls landing on their tables.

"Hellebore got a mail!" Safiya nudged on November's arm excitedly.

"What's so special about that?" November chuckled, but looked at Hellebore's owl anyway.

"I don't think I've ever seen Hellebore get a mail." Delilah joined in, as Hellebore opened the green envelope. Inside the envelope was a small badge, and a tiny note stuck onto it.

"Oh, right. I left my Prefect badge at home." Hellebore shrugged as she pulled off the note on the Prefect badge. "Making mistakes already?" Hellebore read the note aloud.

"Sounds like your dad." Safiya said, slurping on her soup.

"It is my dad, dummie." Hellebore said, rolling her eyes. She placed the badge neatly on her chest, and tapped it a couple times to test if it would fall off.

"I think your dad is worried that you'll be spending a terrible year because you made a mistake from the very beginning. Like a jinx." Delilah said, who had already finished up her soup.

"I don't believe in jinx." Hellebore snorted loudly. "Plus, I'm a Prefect now. How can my year go wrong?"

"Like, messing up every single exam?" Delilah replied.

"I don't really care about studying as much as you do, Del." Hellebore said, tightening her ponytail.

"Speaking of studying," November asked, "What's our first class?"

"Defense against the Dark Arts with Gryffinor." Delilah answered, before anyone could even think.

"Gryffidor? Lame." Said a voice behind. The four girls turned around in union to see Flint and Malfoy walking near the girls' seats. It seemed like they already finished their breakfast. A few Gryffindors glared at Malfoy and Flint, since their tables were right behind Slytherin's.

"Speak for yourselves, dung brains." Said a Gryffindor, rising up from his seat. November soon realized it was James Potter, the famous Quidditch player. His hair was messed up, which everyone knew that he did it on purpose, and his dark brown eyes were glaring at Malfoy and Flint. "At least we don't have anyone like Snivellus."

Soon, most of the Gryffindors were cackling, and Potter's gang were laughing the most. November turned to take a look at Snape's face, but she wasn't able to since his face was almost stuck in his bowl, unable to look up. Was it weird that November was understanding his situation? Or was it just a simple sympathy she had for him?

"Look who we have here?" Flint turned around slowly and dramatically. "The famous Seeker, Potter and his three servants?" The Slytherins cackled this time, as Flint referred to Lupin, Pettigrew and Black. "A famous pureblood lurking out with these fools, it must be a shame to your family." Flint continued his monologue, pointing at random Gryffindors. The hall was dead silent - only some left owls were hooting in the air. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were holding their breath to hear better.

Flint looked around the Gryffindor table as if he was finding a prey, then he caught something. "Black! Sirius, Black." He said, laughing sarcastically. "Still can't help but laugh when I think about the time when your mother found out you were Gryffindor!" Flint laughed hysterically, but was interrupted by his own grunt. James had hit Lucas with his fist, right into his stomach. Malfoy seemed like he couldn't stand it - he slammed his own fist across Potter's face, and that's when everything began to break and bleed.