Forgotten Girl

Ghosts and Gryffindors

"Mama, what was the first day of classes like?"

"It was... interesting, I suppose. I was threatened for the first time."

"What?"

~

"Come along, Simmons. I need to show you where the Potions room is before I can get to class," Malfoy drawled on Monday morning. Elliana rolled her eyes, but stood and waved goodbye to the girls she was sitting with. Nymphea Florence, another first-year, told her she'd see her in a minute.

Elliana and Malfoy fell into step beside each other, an awkward silence filling the air. Neither was inclined to break it, or maybe it was that neither quite knew how. Regardless, it followed them until they had reached Professor Snape's classroom. Elliana paused before she entered, turning back to her mentor.

"Oi, Malfoy," he looked over his shoulder at her, "Thanks."

"Don't expect this every day, Simmons. It's just for the week until you get used to your schedule." With that, Malfoy turned and walked away. Elliana took a breath and walked into the classroom.

It was dark, which was to be expected with a class in the dungeons, with orbs of warm coloured light hanging in the air above each table. The tables sat two people each, so Elliana slid into one in the second row beside the door. The professor was nowhere to be seen, and she was the first in the classroom, so she pulled out her second-hand potion book. All her books, except for her Defense Against the Dark Arts ones, had been her godfather's.

Slowly, students trickled in. Nymphea sat behind Elliana with her twin, Nemesia, who had been sorted into Ravenclaw. The other two girls in Elliana and Nymphea's dorm sat in front of her, chatting about a book they had both read.

"Is this seat taken?" Elliana looked up to see a dreamy-eyed girl with frizzy blonde hair.

"Go ahead and sit," She smiled at the blonde, "I'm Elliana Po-Simmons. Elliana Simmons."

"Luna Lovegood." Luna peered at Elliana, "Did you know you're one of the first people I've seen here that doesn't have Wrackspurts?"

Elliana frowned, although a smile played on her lips, "What's a Wrackspurt? I've never heard of that."

Luna was kept from answering by the arrival of Professor Snape. He entered the room with a swish of his cape, and Elliana couldn't help but wonder if he'd always been so dramatic. Uncle Remus had told her he'd been friends with her mother during their Hogwarts years, but that they had stopped hanging out in the fifth year. Elliana had never really understood why, but she hadn't the time to wonder now, as Professor Snape was beginning to call the register.

"Henry Alaxtor," a hand raised, "Lauren Bensy." Another hand went into the air as the first came down. Hands went up and others came down with Professor Snape looking up to match faces to names.

"Elliana Simmons." The redhead raised her hand and met the Professor's pitch-black eyes. Elliana could have sworn she saw surprise in them, and he seemed to pale the longer he looked. Then he cleared his throat and continued down the list. That was odd, Elliana thought, But I guess Aunt Thia always says that I look like Mum. Must have just caught him by surprise.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began, his voice hardly a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silent room, "As there is very little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will not believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." 

His black eyes scanned the faces of the frightened students in front of him. Elliana shared a look with Luna, and even she seemed sobered by the teacher's monologue.

"Turn to page 14. We will focus on the Boil Cure for the rest of class." Dutifully, the silent students pulled out books and began reading.

--

"Elliana, what happened in there with Professor Snape? He looked like he'd seen a ghost." Nymphea asked as the two made their way to lunch. Elliana shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Maybe he was friends with my mother in school. My godfather is always saying I look just like her." Nymphea hummed in agreement. They sank into seats across from each other, piling food onto their plates. Trekking across the castle all morning had given the girls an appetite.

"Did you hear Harry Potter flew a car into the Whomping Willow during the Welcome Feast?" Nymphea said, leaning over the table to grab the salt. She didn't notice how Elliana paled for a moment, "I mean, how much more reckless can you get?"

"That doesn't seem very nice, Nym."

"I'm just saying, it's no wonder he's a Gryffindor," Nymphea said snidely. Elliana looked up at her friend.

"What's so bad about Gryffindors? Why do we hate them so much?"

It was Malfoy who answered, sinking into the seat beside her, "Because they're a bunch of self-righteous pricks who think every Slytherin is evil."

"I'm sure not all of them think that. And that seems a bit hypocritical, seeing how you treat muggleborns."

The blond raised an eyebrow, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Elliana looked up into his grey eyes, noting that they were narrowed at her. She paused for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of what she was going to say next. The pros won out.

"Well, pureblood wizards tend to think that all muggleborns and muggles are inferior because of things like the Salem Witch Trials in the States. Likewise, Slytherins and Gryffindors hate each other because we stereotype the other. So it's hypocritical to recognise one but not the other."

The small group stayed quiet for a moment before Malfoy leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Think very carefully before you say anything else, Simmons," he warned, "Or my father will hear about this."

She glared up at him. Elliana hated people bossing her around, something her godfather and aunt had learned early. But she also wasn't a stupid girl. She knew that the Malfoy patriarch could make her family's lives hell without batting an eye. So, she did what any self-respecting Slytherin would do.

She stood up and walked away.

--

"Mama?"

"Yes, my lamb?"

"Why did you walk away? He threatened you."

"Because you must learn to pick your battles. You don't need to show up to every argument you're invited to."

"Oh."