hive mind is scary i feel vulnerable
Still mesmerized by the view of the castle, Gene barely noticed that they arrived at Hogwarts. Getting out of the boat was easier than expected with her shitty sense of balance, so maybe her day wasn’t completely unlucky.
Following Hagrid and the first-year students, Genesis stood out like a thumb. She could feel the 11-year-olds looking at her curiously before getting distracted by something else. She herself was looking around with the same wide eyes as them.
Walking into a small room, Hagrid turned to face them. “Yeh wait here; Professor McGonagall will come get yeh for the sortin’,” said the giant with a smile.
After he walked away, the kids that knew each other began to talk to each other in hushed voices. While Genesis looked around, a boy with mousy brown hair and round cheeks in front of her turned around, “Why are you only getting sorted now?” The others around them also looked at her curiously. "Well, I moved here from America in July, so I’m new here too,” she replied, and the blonde girl next to the boy immediately perked up. “Why would you move? My parents took me and my brother Evan to New York this summer, and it was so much nicer there than in Britain!” she blurted out with the same dialect as her grandpa. ‘Posh’ is what her neighbor Max called it, apparently a sign for growing up in the upper class. “Well, it’s certainly diff-,” cutting herself off when she saw an older witch walk into the room. Taking in her stern look and the traditional wizarding robes she wore made Gene stand a bit straighter.
“Welcome to Hogwarts; I’m Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and the head of the Gryffindor house,” she introduced herself. “You will follow me to the Great Hall to get sorted into one of the four houses: Gryffindor, Huffelpuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. All houses are unique and have produced excellent wizards and witches. You will spend the next seven years living among your housemates in the respective common rooms. During your time here, you get rewarded house points for your accomplishments but taken away house points for breaking rules,” explained the older witch while looking at all the new students. “Now follow me.”
Walking behind everyone, Gene started to get nervous. Knowing she will stick out and have people talking about her. What if she trips or doesn’t actually have magic? What if this all was just one big joke? So to not panic even more, Gene started counting the torches that lit up the hallway. She counted 17 before coming to a halt in front of a big door. McGonagall faced the students once more. “During the sorting ceremony, I will call out the names alphabetically; when your name is called, sit on the chair next to me. The sorting hat will be placed on your head to sort you into the house that fits you the most.” Then looking directly at Gene, she continued, “Miss Dowflower, you will be sorted at the end.” With that, the professor opened the door and headed to the front, followed closely by the excited or nervous students.
The Great Hall certainly deserved its name, with a tall ceiling concealed by an enchantment that her grandma talked so much about. And Gene could understand why the enchanted ceiling showed the beautiful moon along with the stars. The small clouds covering part of the stars along with the floating candles made the enchantment even more entrancing. Along with the four long tables filled with students only leaving space at the table close to the teachers for the newcomers to sit.
Arriving at the front, McGonagall walked up the few steps and stopped next to a wooden chair. The hat that sat on it started singing:
“Oh, you may not think I'm pretty.
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!”
If she was honest Gene wasn’t sure if the song got an applause or not; she worried about all sorts of ways where the ceremony turned into a nightmare. Before losing control of her emotions, she used the only thing that got her back to reality besides smoking: pain. Making a tight fist, Gene could feel her semi-long black fingernails painfully pushing into her palm. Her head already felt clearer after just a few seconds, so she relaxed her hand again.
She apparently missed a good chunk of the sorting already as McGonagall called out “Gerard Fig.” The brown-haired boy that talked to Genesis earlier nervously went to sit down on the chair. The old hat didn’t take long after being placed on the timid kid to shout “GRYFFINDOR!” with a loud voice. The second table on her right started cheering while the others clapped politely.
Listening to the next sortings without paying much attention, she knew she wouldn’t remember any of the names or faces of the first years. She probably wouldn’t interact much with them anyway, being 4 years older.
The crowd was already way smaller than before. Hearing the professor call the name “Chiara Rosier,” she probably would have forgotten that one too, but as the blonde girl who went to America walked to the chair confidently, she paid attention again. The American witch was still wondering if the Evan that the young Rosier mentioned was the same as the one that she unfortunately met on the train. This time the hat took longer than two or three minutes, as Gene noticed Chiara nervously playing with a ring on her pinky. But then the hat shouted out the decision “SLYTHERIN!” and the smile on the girl’s face was as bright as the sun while she walked to the cheering table on the far left. Watching her sit down in the free seat next to an older student whose face she couldn’t see, she caught sight of Sirius’ brother. His aristocratic features still didn’t harbor any trace of emotions, and if they did, it was too subtle to see from so far away.
After waiting for what felt like an eternity, she was the last one standing. “Genesis Dowflower,” called Professor McGonagall. With a deep breath, she walked up the stairs as confidently as she could. Still, Genesis could tell that many students were whispering to each other, so she knew her plan didn’t work.
Facing the student body to sit down, she quickly glanced to the Gryffindor table to look for the so-called marauders. Finding them in the middle of the table, she didn’t look at them for long as the sorting hat was placed on her head.
"Hmm, it was not too long ago that a student with those ancient powers attended the school.” Although she knew she would hear the hat speaking, it still surprised her for a second. “And a descendant of Salazar Slytherin too; you seem to possess great powers.” She never thought herself to be powerful, but put like that, she could see why the hat thought so. “You have the potential to become as much a hero as the last wielder of ancient magic. Or will you go down the same path of destruction as the last Slytherin heir?” “I will continue my grandma's legacy!” responded Genesis. “Even if you have to let go of some of your morals?” asked the hat. “If those two are the only options that I have, I will have to let go of some morals in both scenarios, right?” She could hear the old hat laugh, and not just for her to hear. “As expected, SLYTHERIN!”
After the hat yelled out its decision, Gene didn’t know what to feel. Sure, on one hand, her grandpa would be happy; he used to be a Slytherin himself, but on the other hand, when she looked towards the marauders, she saw Sirius furrowing his brow while frowning. The others looked maybe a bit shocked; she wasn’t sure though.
She stood up and made her way towards the table she will eat at for the next 3 years as the robes' accent color changed to green. Gene guessed that the color change was McGonagall's doing, probably with wandless magic as the vice-headmistress didn’t move her hand.
It was clear to everyone that a lot of Slytherins weren’t happy with their new fifth-year addition. The group from the train didn’t clap, and neither were those around them. Gene guessed that they revealed her 'mudbloodness’ to the other students. The only reason why a good chunk of Slytherins did clap was because they haven’t heard about that yet, if Genesis had to guess.
Seeing as the only available seat was with the youngest, she went to sit down besides a girl with ebony skin. Giving the ones around her a tight-lipped smile, she focused back on Dumbledore, who had already taken his place at the podium. He started speaking, but honestly, Gene spaced out again; maybe she should have slept more. All she wants right now is to be back in their house in Salem, her grandma still alive. Even if it meant getting lectured for sneaking out to meet her friends and get high as a kite. What she wouldn’t give to be in the arms of the older witch.
Her mood turning somber, she tried to focus back onto the present. Tearing up at dinner is already bad enough, but she knew she couldn’t show any weakness at this table. Still a bit lost in thought, the sudden appearance of food startled her. As it seemed, it was mostly British cuisine, which reminded her of her grandma again.
Seeing everyone put food on their plate, she did so too. Putting a piece of some sort of roast and a few potatoes on her table, she eagerly dug in. She just realized all she ate today were the gummy slugs, so she probably would have eaten anything as long as it wasn’t peas.
The dinner slowly came to an end, and the students were dismissed. Most of them quickly left the hall. “First years to me!” called out a tall, fair-skinned ginger girl. Knowing that that probably meant her too, Gene joined them. All the redhead did was give her a glance before continuing to speak, “I’m the 6th year prefect, Natalia Travers. The boy behind you is the 7th year prefect, Monty Linwood.” Everyone looked back and saw the short, tan, brown-haired prefect. He gave them a lazy wave. “We are going to show you the way to our common room; don’t get lost.” With that, Travers headed to the door, followed by the first years and Gene with Linwood at the rear to make sure no one got lost. The 15-year-old knew it was in the dungeon, and from her grandparents' stories, it sounded beautiful.
Gene tried to remember the way as best as she could, but knowing herself, she knew she’d get lost at some point.
It didn’t take too long to get to the common room, only stopping once when the Bloody Baron appeared, making not only the girls scream out of surprise.
“Okay, we’re here,” said Travers as she stopped in front of a blank wall. Linwood went to stand beside her. “The password is serpens oris,” suddenly a door appeared. “If you forget it, you will just have to wait for another student who knows it. The password changes frequently; you will get a notice either through us six prefects or you can always ask another Slytherin.” With that, both prefects lead them into the common room. It was impressive the high ceilings and leather couches occupied by students, placed around the room. The wood used for the chairs and other furniture was dark, and along with the dim lights, it certainly felt luxurious. But the most impressive part was definitely the windows to the Black Lake; now it was mostly darkness, but Gene could already see how it would look during the day.
“Linwood will show you the boys' dorms, and the girls will follow me,” explained Travers. Following the read-head for a second time, Gene again felt as if the whole room was judging her. Gene was glad when they arrived in a corridor lined with a few doors. Stopping at the second one on the left, Travis addressed Gene, “This is yours; your luggage will stand by your bed.” Before she had time to respond, the other walked away.
Sighing, she opened the door and was met with a circular-shaped room containing four beds. They were pretty fancy beds, in Gene's opinion, as they had four posters and curtains you could close to have some privacy.
Her luggage was put at the bed beside another door, probably the bathroom, so probably the undesired one, which she got for arriving later. Well, at least she doesn’t have it far if she needs to go to the toilet during the night.
Walking over to her designated bed, she contemplated whether she should unpacker or not. Seeing as it was a Saturday, so there was no school tomorrow, she decided on the former. She did open her suitcase, however, to get her pair of pajamas, her toothbrush, toothpaste, and makeup remover.
After getting ready for bed, she tried to sleep. Luckily for once her brain kept quiet, not even getting the urge to smoke, and finally fell asleep.
Waking up at 7 in the morning was not really her plan, but at least that meant she probably wouldn’t meet too many of her housemates at breakfast. Pulling out socks, underwear, a pair of bell bottom jeans, and a dark purple knitted turtleneck out of her suitcase. She quickly grabbed her makeup bag, bodywash, and shampoo to head towards the bathroom.
Looking into a drawer below the sink labeled "towels," probably by one of the other girls, to get a big one and a small one. After showering and getting dressed, Gene realized that she doesn’t have a way to dry her hair. Sighing, she decided to just put it up with a hair clip and went to do her normal makeup.
When she walked back into the room, another of her roommates woke up. The girl had her hair in braids, and her skin was a warm brown. Hearing the bathroom door open, she looked up and smiled at Gene and whispered, “Good morning, I’m Dorcas! Do you want to get breakfast together?” Gene was a bit suspicious why she was being nice to her but didn’t let it show. “Ehh, sure?” agreed Gene in the same quiet voice. “Okay, let me get ready, and then we can head there together.”
As Dorcas was in the bathroom to get ready, Gene took out a piece of normal paper and a fountain pen to start writing one of two letters. Dorcas didn’t take long, so Gene only got to write about the train debacle to her grandpa before putting the stuff away in a drawer of the bedside table.
The other girl also put on jeans, though not a bell-bottom one, and wore a simple mint-green sweater. Genesis grabbed her bag, slipped into her trusted Doc Martens with yellow laces, and Dorcas put on some sneakers.
Walking through the empty corridor, both girls kept quiet, mostly to not disturb anyone sleeping. The common room was also empty, though the silence was broken quickly. “It’s Genesis, right?” asked Dorcas. “Yes, exactly,” replied Gene, just to confess, “Is it fine for you if we go outside before breakfast? I really need a cig.” Dorcas lightly laughed at that. "Yeah, sure, I’ll show you a spot where you won’t get caught.”
“I just want to say that your septum-piercing is wicked!” Gene smiled at that. “Thank you! I got it like 7 months ago, actually, so I kind of forgot that that's there.” Dorcas let out a joking whine “Piercings are so cool, I also kind of want one! But my parents would never let me.” Gene just laughed, “I honestly haven’t told my grandpa yet,” she confessed. “What? How has he not found out?” "Well, he’s blind, so he can’t tell,” explained the shorter girl.
On their way outside, Dorcas asked her many questions about America and also Ilvermorny. So Gene told her the same as the Gryffindors on the train except about her family being magic. Seeing as the other girl still was confused, she admitted being a bit confused too but didn’t mention that it has happened to more than just her, seeing that all the late bloomers that started school in their fifth year possessed ancient magic. She doubted that anyone would find out due to that, but it's better not to risk it.
Finally going outside, Genesis breathed in the fresh air. You could tell autumn was starting; the trees had already lost some leaves, and it wasn’t as bright in the morning anymore. Luckily her turtleneck was warm enough, but her hands were freezing when she pulled out her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “You know there’s a spell for that?” Dorcas looked a bit confused. Gene just shook her head. “No, can you show it to me?” So Dorcas pulled out her wand and flicked her wrist, “Incendio!” and a small flame shot out of the wand. “Incendios size of the flame depends on how much magic you send into the wand,” told the other girl. Gene took out her own wand; she got it at Ollivanders, and the owner told her it was elm wood with a phoenix core. Apparently elm wands are capable of highly advanced magic, but Genesis wasn’t able to try that out yet; she would prefer not having to meet the wizard police or even a judge, so she waited patiently all summer until she started at Hogwarts.
That also meant that she hasn’t ever used it before, so she was a bit skeptical if the spell would even work. Still, she did the same motion as Dorcas earlier while saying “Incendio!”. It was a good decision to not use it immediately on the cigarette, as the flame that came out of her wand definitely would have burned her face. “You did it on the first try!” Dorcas seemed very excited. “But you still need to learn to control it better,” she continued.
Gene just sighed; she really wasn’t in the mood to practice just now. All she wanted was nicotine and food. So instead of trying again, she put her wand away to pull out the lighter in the bag. The other just smiled amused at the disgruntled girl.
Taking a drag of the cancer stick, the American took the surroundings in. They stood beside an oak tree; it probably has been there for a few centuries, as it wasn’t small but also not that big. The spot wasn’t far away from the door they came out of, but Dorcas had told her that the professors usually stayed inside and that specific door wasn’t used as much.
“So you’re not a blood-purist then?” Gene broke the silence. The other girl just sighed, “No, I’m not. I think that blood status shouldn’t matter.” Dorcas turned to her, “But many in Slytherin do, even the ones I call my friends.” Gene took a glance at her before exhaling the smoke. “And yet you still hang out with them.” About to turn away, Dorcas grabbed her arm. “It’s not like that! I’ve tried talking to them, but they’ve been told muggles and muggleborns are scum since birth.” Defending her friends, she continued. “They aren’t as bad as they seem; I think they just need to be proven wrong.”
Genesis just put out her cigarette, “If you say so,” and tracked back to the door. Sensing Dorcas not following, she turned around. “Aren’t you coming?” With that, the other Slytherin quickly joined her. While Gene is pretty sure that they aren’t good people, she didn’t want to push away the one Slytherin that didn’t care.
Arriving in the Great Hall after a minute or two, the girls headed towards their table. Dorcas probably saw her friends because the dark-skinned girl headed straight to two boys.
Gene wasn’t sure if she was supposed to come along, so she slowly made her way towards the table too. After greeting the boys, Dorcas waved at Gene, signaling her to join.
As she did just that, the blonde of the boys turned to her, and of fucking course it had to be the Evan guy from the train. Still, she sat down across from Dorcas, although keeping space between her and Evan. “What are you doing with a mudblood, Cas?” came from him. “Shush! You know I don’t like when you guys use that word,” complained the questioned girl. "Also, why shouldn’t I? Genesis is very nice!” Gene shot her a small smile at that, which quickly turned into a frown. “Still,'muggleborns'—” the blondes said that word with so much disgust, “don't belong in Slytherin.” “And why is that?” questioned Gene the boy. “First of all, they are inferior to us purebloods and even to halfbloods, and secondly, we all know their magic was actually supposed to be for a squib, and they just stole it.” The blonde answered as if all of this was common belief, and maybe in their social circles it was. "Well, what is the difference between a muggleborn and a pureblood besides heritage? And if muggleborns stole the magic, wouldn’t that mean those who got it stolen are inferior to them instead, although they are purebloods?” challenged Genesis. Regulus, who sat besides Dorcas, easily responded, “We are more powerful, as simple as that. There is a reason why there aren’t many muggleborns in high-up positions in the ministry or why more purebloods get good grades.” His eyes still cold as the times before, “And yes, those are inferior and don’t count as purebloods; that’s why my family casts them aside.” Her grandpa, who was also born into an old pureblooded family, the Gaunts, often told her about those beliefs. It was the main reason why he and her grandma faked his death and fled to the USA.
“The reason why more purebloods get better grades is because you have an advantage. You grew up with wizards and witches and usually already get taught about it when you’re young. Meanwhile, muggleborns find out like 2-3 months before starting here. So they have to catch up on so much, especially since a lot of knowledge is just expected to be had.” The atmosphere was tense as the supposed muggleborn replied. “And that also plays partially into them not being in many high-up positions in the ministry. They usually do have the same qualifications, but the ministry is biased. They will obviously take someone who has more status in society than a practical nobody. And most positions aren’t even offered openly. And how should muggleborns who mostly don’t have connections in the ministry be supposed to get them?” She took a breath while looking back into the eyes of the Black. “You also say the last thing like it's something to be proud of. But it's not; it's sad to disown someone for something they can’t control.” She was finished with this conversation, so after giving the group a last cold glare, she stood up and stormed out of the Great Hall.
She should have expected it honestly. The way the marauders seemed to dislike her house, and even her grandpa told Gene that blood supremacy was already normal back then but that the situation had gotten worse.
Lost in her thought, Genesis bumped into someone. If the person in front of her hadn’t grabbed her, she probably would have hit the floor. “Watch whe-” already starting to berate the person in front of her, she finally looked at them. It was one of the guys from the train ride. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize it was you. Remus, right?" He gave her an amused smile. “Who pissed into your coffee? And yeah, it’s Remus." She had to look up to look at his face. "Oh, just my lovely housemates, including Sirius’ brother. They were just so delightfully discriminating this morning.” Remus snorted at that. "Well, that’s Slytherin for you.” Glaring at him, “Not all Slytherins are like that.” He lifted his hands, surrendering, "Hey, I know, but most still are assholes.”
Gene looked away dejected and realized she didn’t know where she was. “I guess you aren’t wrong about that.” Looking back at Remus, she asked, “Can you show me somewhere I can smoke?” He still seemed kind of amused, but agreed nonetheless.
Following him through the hallway, something that worried her popped back into her head. “Hey Remus?” - “Mhm?” “Was Sirius upset at me after the sorting? He didn’t look too happy, as far as I could tell.” Opening the door, Remus walked into a courtyard of some sort and sat down on a stone bench before answering her question. “He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t angry either.” He pulled out his own cigarettes while continuing to speak, “He just doesn’t have good experiences with most, so he is maybe a bit biased.” Gene had already put her cigarette between lips and was about to pull out her lighter as Remus lit her cigarette with his lighter. She sent him a grateful smile. “Mhm, I get that. Dorcas, my roommate, was really nice to me. Like showed me a spot to smoke where you won’t likely get caught an-” Remus quickly cut her off. "Sorry, but before I forget. This spot is shitty to smoke in usually, both with many students here and teachers walking through here often. Anyway, continue!” Gene nodded at that and got back to talking. “And she taught me a spell so I can light up cigarettes without fire. Like she was so nice!” Taking a long drag, breathing out the smoke as she spoke again, “So as everyone thinks I’m muggleborn, I asked her if she isn’t a blood purist then. She was like, ‘No, but many Slytherins are, even my friends,’ and as I didn’t want to fight probably one of the only nice ones in Slytherin, I just accepted it. But then we got to the Great Hall, where she saw her friends, who obviously had to be Regulus and Evan, who I met on the train, yet she still called me over.” Noticing she’s getting upset again, she brought the cancer stick back to her lips. Remus was just listening while smoking too. “So Evan asked what Dorcas was doing with a mudblood like me, and she just said to not use the word as she doesn‘t like it.” “And did they stop using it?” “Yes actually. But Evan used it with so much disgust it didn’t make a difference, honestly.” Gene’s laugh didn’t sound amused. “So I like, called them out on their bullshit, and they just started spitting even more blood supremacy shit. I told them my opinion and stormed off.” Stubbing out her cigarette on the bench below, she pulled out her pack and put it inside of it. Genesis never understood why people just throw them on the ground or into nature. “Why don’t you just tell them that you aren’t a muggleborn?” asked Remus curiously. She thought about it for a second before answering, “Because it shouldn’t matter. I don’t want to be friends with someone who cares about things like that.” Remus didn’t seem surprised by that answer, as he just nodded along.
Gene looked at him. “Could you tell the other three not to mention my blood status? I want to see who cares about it and who doesn’t.” He nodded at that and went to stand up. “I’m going to head to breakfast now; you can come along if you want.” She thankfully rejects the offer; she still wants to find the "Undercroft", a secret room hidden by Salazar Slytherin himself. Apparently only the Gaunts, his descendants, know about the room, and as she and her grandfather are the last living Gaunts, she could use it to be alone.
The entrance is supposed to be at the dead end of a corridor in the defense tower. Trying to find the right section of the castle is difficult without a map; she didn’t get a guide like her grandma. After wandering around for a while, Genesis found a corridor that seemed to end without leading somewhere. Walking towards the end of it, she noticed an old clock. Taking out her wand, she did the movements her dad showed her. Apparently she did it right as the clock arms moved rapidly in the right position. The front of the clock sprang open and revealed the path into the Undercroft.
Walking through it leads to a big room with walls and pillars made of stone. Random things like wooden crates stood against the walls. She noticed a couch on the left side, put there by her grandparents and their friend. Though instead of sitting down she looked at the wand in her hand, it still all felt so unreal. Not wanting to try out spells she only read about, she stuck to practicing the basics.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” she called out while swishing her hand in the same motion as her grandpa showed her. The training dummy she aimed at did move into the air, but only for a second as her attention waived. Still, it excited Gene, so she tried again and again. Each time it lifted a bit longer and higher.
It was exhausting, but after looking at the clock, it seemed like she spent 20 minutes trying and trying again. She was satisfied; yes, it still took a great deal of concentration to lift up the dummy for more than 10 seconds, but she bet she could lift up a feather without much thought.
Taking a break, she laid down on the couch. Thinking about how she should act with the obvious problem in her house, she stared up at the ceiling. Sure, it was shitty of Dorcas bringing her around people she knew were blood supremacists, but Gene couldn’t stay mad at her, especially as she probably would be quite lonely without the taller one.
Waking up groggy, she was confused at first but quickly sat up. Looking at her watch, she noticed it was already 2 p.m.—fuck she slept like 6 hours. She slowly stood up, thinking about what to do now. Dinner wasn’t for a while, and she felt more energetic again.
Deciding to start practicing again, although now the one where no one could help with, she went back over to the training dummies. Remembering what her grandma told her about how it felt when she was full of ancient magic, just the magic vibrating in the depths of her stomach, Gene noted that the time spent practicing normal magic seemed to fill up that pit.
So Gene did what her instinct told her. Her wand focusing on one of the wooden crates, Gene felt the magic almost traveling to her fingers grasping the elm wood. Pulling her arm a bit back quickly, the crate shot into the air. Without even realizing it, she flicked her arm forward again, only focusing back on the real world as the crate hit the dummy with so much force that it disappeared.
Blinking slowly, the American looked at the place it stood before. It only took a second or two, and the dummy reappered.
No high could ever compare to how on top of the world she felt while using the tingling magic in her stomach. It felt just so right, as if nothing could stop her now. But the feeling of the ancient magic faded after one use. So Gene went back practicing, this time the fire spell Dorcas taught her.
Shouting the word “Incendio” over and over while flicking her wrist as Dorcas did, Gene was able to produce flames out of her wand but was way less controlled. She would have probably burned Hogwarts down had it not been made out of stone. The multiple dummies have all been set on fire again and again, and the feeling in her stomach got stronger each time the other spell was used.
She tried not to act on instinct this time, as it would probably be useful if she could use it with more thought. Yet her arm still instantly pulled back, but now she was at least able to control her aim. This time the crates were spared as a porcelain vase was rapidly lifted in the air and thrown at the dummy. Again, Gene felt thrilled. Sure, she wasn’t able to do any spells with complete control and not having concentrated much, but hey, everyone started small.
The time seemed to pass way quicker while training, as after she brushed up the shards of the vase, as she didn’t know any clean-up spell, the watch already showcased that it was late and that dinner probably started already, so she quickly left her ‘hideout’ and walked to the Great Hall.
Following another student through the large doors, Gene already dreaded her table. But it was her only option to eat, as she didn’t know where the kitchen was or how to get into it again. Her granny told her to tickle a pair in a painting, but that must have been a joke.
Sitting down in the empty space between two friend groups, Gene grabbed some of the food.
Just as she was about to start eating, a familiar boy started talking. "Ah, look, its the mudblood.” Sending him a glare, she continued eating. “Look at her ignoring us to eat instead. She probably has never eaten good food before, with her parents being muggles.” The people of both groups beside her started laughing. “Oh fuck off, half of these dishes have been invented by muggles,” she shot back. “Now let me eat in peace.” Piercing a carrot with her fork to put in her mouth, Gene thought the conversation was finished, but oh, she was wrong. “And her parents raised her without manners too, it seems.” She realized where she knows him from; it was the guy who was so upset she interrupted the younger Black that he was probably about to hex her. Still, she looked at him unimpressed. "Oh, as if your family taught you so much better. You are the one trying to pick a fight; that doesn’t scream good manners, does it?” The boy's face got redder the longer she spoke. As the boy was about to speak up again, Genesis continued, “Even if I haven’t been taught manners, at least I was taught that marrying your cousin is wrong.” She seemingly struck a nerve as he stood up 3 seats away on her left and started walking over to her. “But each family has different values, I guess.” She continued eating without paying any attention, but the noise around them has started to quiet down. Though the disturbance hasn’t caught everyone's eye, luckily.
"Oh, you think you know so much, but remember one thing: You couldn’t even fathom what my family is capable of.” Smirking, the boy went back to his seat as the others around them started laughing.
She felt anxious and vulnerable, as she knew that they probably wouldn’t shy away from living up to the guy's threat. Still, Gene slowly finished her meal and walked back into the corridor.
She definitely should find the kitchen for future meals.