To Be So Lonely

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Albus Dumbledore seemed like a kind man. Then again, that was when you compared him to old, grouchy Mr. Cowell, a man who had given Nel the impression that all old people were bitter and limped with a cane.

The Headmaster took the girl to a place called The Leaky Cauldron. It seemed to be a blend of a pub and a hostel. There were many people there all wearing odd or peculiar robes, something the eleven year old interpreted to be wizarding fashion. The place was dark and stuffy, yet it was better than Wool's. Hell, anywhere was better than Wool's. On the way there the man had explained to her some of the more complex intricacies of the wizarding world. Rules that she ought to know, decrees of secrecy, the difference between wizard and muggle currency, amongst more information.

In part Nel cried on the way to the Leaky Cauldron which made her face swell. She had never once left Wool's, even worse she had never been completely alone and apart from Lucy.

"I'm afraid I have more pending matters to attend. Busy day, the day before the first day of school you see? Which is why I've appointed a professor to escort you and aid you in gathering your school supplies," Dumbledore said. He gestured to a man that was approaching them that reminded Nel of a giant bat.

The professor was tall, with a large nose and shoulder length black hair dressed all in black. His lips were fixed into a serious thin line and he looked beyond irritate to be here. Overall he seemed to carry an cloud of gloom and looked to be permanently irritated. He looked like somebody that shouldn't be crossed.

"This is Professor Snape," Dumbledore introduced. "He's the Potions Master at Hogwarts and will also be your professor this year."

"Professor, sir" she nodded her head towards him respectfully unsure of how to proceed. Respectfully interacting with adults had never been her forte.

"Miss Saintday," Snape simply acknowledged her.

Dumbledore nodded her to head to her assigned room and leave her small suitcase there. She did and on the way wondered at everything in sight, opened the wrong room and encountered a mummy, opened another door which had a strong gust of wind blow her back into the wall before closing before reaching a normal one she assumed was her own.

Oh how she wished she could tell Lucy. She would not believe the things she was seeing! Once again her eyes swelled with tears and she returned to meet Dumbledore and Snape who seemed to be having a quiet discussion about private manners.

Dumbledore looked at her with an unreadable expression, it wasn't exactly empathy but something else in his eyes. Maybe wariness?

Snape looked at her and his expression became even more irritated at the girl's red, swollen face.

"There will be no foolish weeping in my presence Ms. Saintday," he didn't even offer her anything to wipe her face. He starred until she wiped her tears and nodded. "Are you done?" He drawled out sarcastically poking at her tantrum.

They were about to leave when a man approached them.

"Oh, this is Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore signaled at a stammering man who was wearing a purple turban over his head. "He'll be your Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"F-F-Fascinating subject," he stammered trembling. He looked down at the girl. "I-I look f-forward to h-h-h-ha-" Nel looked at him oddly wondering if he'd ever cough up the word. This was the kind of thing that would get you roasted back in Wool's home. She didn't even want to think about the pain of having this man as her teacher. "Having y-you in m-my c-c-class."