Past and Prejudice
During the inaugural weeks of classes, the initial forays into each subject were marked by their elementary nature, tailored to acclimate the students to the curriculum. Yet, the homework bestowed upon them proved to be an arduous undertaking, a litmus test of their intellectual mettle. It was in the company of Hermione, however, that Reese found the impetus to conquer these demanding tasks. Hermione possessed an unwavering dedication to her studies, her resolute nature propelling Reese forward, albeit with a touch of unwelcome assertiveness.
The realm of History of Magic emerged as Reese's Achilles' heel, an academic venture that demanded arduous hours spent delving into the intricacies of mundane details concerning ancient wizards. The assessments proved to be formidable trials, requiring her to muster every ounce of her intellectual prowess. The assessments were challenging, and Reese was only able to pass by studying extensively with Dean, who shared her disdain for the subject.
In stark contrast, Charms emerged as the most delightful subject, where Reese and Hermione effortlessly excelled. Professor Flitwick, acknowledging their natural aptitude, had bestowed his commendations upon them. The classroom atmosphere exuded an air of enchantment and curiosity, until an unfortunate incident involving Seamus Finnigan and a series of unintended eyebrow-zapping mishaps disrupted the tranquility. Hermione reprimanded Reese for laughing.
Transfiguration had been a fascinating subject as well, but Professor McGonagall led the class, and would give Reese a pointed look whenever she caught sight of a bruised knee or a bandaged cheek—Reese told herself it was only in her head.
As Reese navigated the corridors toward the Potions classroom, she found herself joined by Lacey and Lavender, each carrying their own grievances and concerns. Lacey's voice dripped with frustration as she passionately expressed her discontent over Harry Potter's role as the Gryffindor seeker, convinced that nobody was more deserving of the coveted position than her. Lavender, on the other hand, appeared to have joined the conversation merely for the sake of companionship, adding occasional interjections and nods of agreement.
Lacey's voice grew more animated, her words filled with indignation and resentment. "It's ridiculous! Nobody else got that opportunity, but he did! And you saw how it happened, didn't you? You saw it! He broke the rules and was rewarded! Why not me? It's rubbish!"
Reese strained to pay attention, her pounding headache drowning out the voices of Lacey and Lavender. As they entered the dark and dingy Potions classroom, her frown deepened, knowing all too well the piercing glare that awaited them from Professor Snape. She scanned the limited seating options, hoping to find an available spot amidst the gloom.
"Some time today would be nice." Professor Snape drawled, his voice dripping with impatience. Reese silently slid into the only available seat left in the back, surrounded by a group of snickering Slytherins. From across the dimly lit classroom, she caught a glimpse of Hermione's alarmed expression, mirroring Reese's own growing unease.
"Your blatant disregard for punctuality deprives you of common courtesies," Professor Snape sneered, his voice laced with disdain. His cold gaze fixed on Reese, his words dripping with venom. "Since you find it beneath you to arrive promptly to your lesson, Lupin,” he spat out her surname like poison burning his tongue, “you can grace us with the answer to the first question today. Pray tell, what color is a Shrinking Solution supposed to be?"
Reese kept silent, absently picking at her nails beneath the desk. He nodded, "Just as I thought—"
"Green. It's supposed to be green, Professor."
His eyes narrowed while the surrounding students eyed her expectantly in the painfully awkward silence, "Very well, if you want to be a know-it-all. Tell me, what does a Bezoar do?"
Reese's jaw clenched as she fought back the urge to retort. Snape's smug satisfaction hung heavy in the air, like a noxious gas permeating the room. "As expected, the acorn doesn't fall far from the oak."
Her nails punctured her palms as her jaw clenched in frustration, watching Snape turn his attention back to the meticulously arranged chalkboard. Out of the corner of her eye, Reese caught Hermione's cautionary gaze, urging her to exercise restraint and hold her tongue.
Amid the monotony of her scribbling on her textbook, Reese was abruptly jolted by a sly whisper that slithered from her side. Blaise Zabini, with his haughty gaze akin to a piercing sword, taunted her with calculated words, "You must be a blithering idiot to make him hate you already,"
"Pardon?" Reese retorted, turning her head towards the haughty figure of the Slytherin. His gaze descended upon her with a disparaging air, as if looking down on her from a lofty perch.
"What are all these bruises?" Blaise waved a long finger at the marks near her left eye and the bandages on her forearms. "Do you engage in frequent brawls, Lupin?"
"No," Reese's exasperation was palpable as she vehemently denied.
"Oh, a damaged home, then?"
"Bloody hell, neither!"
"All right," he hissed, "keep your voice down."
Reese scooted her chair further from him and his irritatingly condescending expression and tuned him out until Snape dismissed them, distancing herself from the vexing discourse with Zabini. She traversed the corridors in a trance until she found solace in Lavender's company, who praised her with unwarranted ardor.
"Finally! Nothing ever happens in that class. Reese, I thank you for whatever you did to make that man hate you so much!" Lavender gushed, her fervor reaching a crescendo as she packed her books away.
The weight of exhaustion draped over Reese's weary form as she pushed through the remaining courses of the day, each lesson blending into a haze of monotony. The grandeur of the Great Hall seemed diminished as she settled down for a lackluster dinner, flanked by Dean and Lacey. The clatter of cutlery and muffled speech resonated through the air, with Ron's words garbled by a mouthful of food. Hermione's disapproving gaze, delivered with a precision that silenced Ron's idle chatter, spoke volumes in its unspoken reproach.
"Reese, you vave to fry thif!" Ron blubbered, his words distorted by a mouthful of pot roast. Hermione shot him a stern nudge, prompting him to reluctantly set down his fork. "Vevermind." he muttered, chastened.
"Are you not hungry?" Dean inquired, serving himself a generous portion of mashed potatoes and lightly dusting it with black pepper. Reese simply shrugged, her stomach twisting uneasily.
"Not really."
"I think it's odd how early they start getting into Halloween around here, don't you?” Dean remarked, his tone filled with mild amusement. “It's, what, barely into October, and this place is already fully decorated! At my house, we settle for a placemat and a few artificial pumpkins,"
She shrugged. "I like Halloween."
"Do you now?" he responded playfully, his voice carrying a sing-song quality. "They say one's favorite holiday reveals a lot about their character, you know."
"Is that so?" She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Well, what does it say about me then?"
He shrugged in response, feigning ignorance. "Who am I to say? But I did hear a little something about a showdown with Snape."
Harry peeked over from a couple of bodies away.
"There was no showdown!"
"If you want to be modest, Reese, sure."
She groaned inwardly and Hermione chimed in, "Don't you encourage that rumor, Dean. It's no good to get mixed up with Snape."
She exchanged a wary glance with Harry and Ron. But Dean was undeterred. "Ah, lighten up, Granger. What's the worst that could happen? He gives us a pop quiz on what a Bezoar does?" He draped an arm around Reese and Neville on his other side, trying to mimic her voice. "'It's green, Professor.'"
They laughed, she shrugged his arm off and crossed hers.
"Thanks, Thomas. I don't sound like that."
🗡🗡🗡
"Reese! Reese!"
Reese roused from her slumber, the sound of Lacey's urgent voice piercing through the peaceful morning air. With a drowsy blink, she lifted herself from the bed, her gaze meeting Lacey's eager form. Arms outstretched, Lacey held the heavy velvet curtain aside, allowing the warm sunlight to flood Reese's enclosure.
"Reese, get up!"
"Lacey, be quiet!" Lavender's muffled groan echoed through the room as she buried her face in her pillow.
Before Reese could open her mouth to speak, Lacey grabbed her arm and yanked her out of bed. The loud thump was muffled by Reese's suppressed groan of pain as she hit the ground. Hermione winced from where she exited from the bathroom and Lavender tugged her curtains open, puzzled.
"Ooh, sorry, Reese!" Lacey's grimace mirrored her apology as she helped Reese regain her footing, offering a gentle pat on the shoulder. Reese blinked, still groggy from the unexpected fall, and rubbed her head to ease the dull ache.
Reese blinked a few times, rubbing her head. "It's fine, Lacey. Could you tell me what's so important?"
"Quidditch practice today! We have to go watch!" Lacey declared, spinning around to her wardrobe and snatching her coat from its hanger.
"But none of us are even on the team," Lavender reasoned, tumbling out of bed and grabbing her hairbrush from the bedside table to comb through her golden knots and tangles.
Lacey's eyes sparkled with determination as she responded, "They are our House team, Lavender. We should show our support. Besides, it'll give us an idea of what to expect for next year."
"Next year?" Hermione asked, toothbrush hanging from her mouth.
Lacey's gaze shifted to Hermione, a confident smile forming on her lips. "Yes, Hermione. When I'm on the team!"
"Oh, right." Hermione nodded and retreated into the bathroom to rinse her mouth, emerging moments later to rummage through her drawers in search of suitable attire. "I best be off, too. To support Harry's practice."
"See! Everyone's going! Reese, stop looking at me like that and go get ready!"
Once she'd gotten got fully dressed, Lacey seized Reese's arm and propelled her across their dormitory and through the common room, their hurried footsteps echoing through the corridors. With an unyielding determination, Lacey tugged relentlessly, determined to prevent Reese from indulging in an early breakfast at the Great Hall, thwarting any inclination for a morning repast that may have crossed Reese's mind.
The Slytherin Quidditch team, fresh from their chilly locker rooms, cast withering glances at the group of four Gryffindors leisurely making their way towards the pitch. Lavender regarded them with interest and prodded Lacey, "Hey, you should join that team."
Marcus Flint, the indignant Captain of the Slytherin team—as Lacey informed them—cast a withering look in Lavender's direction, sneering contemptuously. "Gryffindor filth wouldn't last a day on this team."
The rest of the green-clad group erupted into raucous laughter, their voices echoing across the pitch. Marcus Flint's cynical grin widened, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. Hermione and Reese exchanged irked glances, their eyes ablaze with defiance, before turning back to face their adversaries with resolute glares.
"Besides," another older boy, whom Reese vaguely recognized as Adrian Pucey, chimed in with a sneer, "girls aren't allowed to play with the Slytherins."
Lacey's eyebrows sunk sympathetically, oblivious to the offensive remark, "Oh, really? That's a huge bummer,"
"Why aren't girls allowed to play?" Reese questioned irritably, cutting in, "Don't you think that's pretty sexist?"
Hermione affirmed her friend's assertion with an unwavering nod, while Lacey furrowed her brow quizzically and Lavender looked on, perplexed. The boys merely jeered once more, condescendingly sneering at them.
"Oh, no! We'll have to live with that for the rest of our lives!" Montague, recognizable by his jersey, melodramatically pressed his knuckles to his sweat-drenched forehead, eliciting another bout of guffaws as the insolent rabble callously shoved past the four girls, heedless of their presence.
As they ascended the bleachers, Lacey's confusion lingered, evident in the furrowed lines on her forehead. Reese was still too angry over the Slytherins' contemptuous behavior to bother filling Lacey in on what she had been very much present for, so Lavender volunteered.
"Let's not dwell on it," Hermione counseled, though her taut jawline revealed her lingering disapprobation.
"Hey, there's Potter!" With an excited yelp, Lacey sprang to her feet, pointing animatedly at Harry as he flew across the field. Harry, having noticed Hermione and her friends' attendance, waved down at them with a nervous smile just as another Bludger hurdled swiftly in his direction.
"Sorry, Harry!" George shouted from the sky, with a mischievous grin as he shot him a wink, twirling his bat wickedly. Harry managed a feeble smile before resuming his aerial maneuvers.
"I thought you hated him," Lavender inquired, casting a sidelong glance at Lacey.
"I do, but I don't." Lacey countered, affecting an air of nonchalance.
"You do but you don't." Hermione repeated, sounding dubious.
"Right, like, I don't like him because he gets to play on the Quidditch team as a first-year, but I also do like him because gets to play on the Quidditch team as a first-year! It's impressive!"
"He's famous, too." Lavender reminded fondly, her chin resting against the wood railing as she watched the scrimmage above. Hermione withdrew a book as the conversation petered out, offering her shoulder for Reese to rest on when she grew drowsy.
When Reese awoke, it seemed only a few moments had passed, but the sun now beamed brilliantly above the treetops, and the Gryffindor team was gradually descending from the sky.
"And what about Ronald?" While they descended from the bleachers, Lavender's inquisitive gaze turned to Lacey, as they continued their mindless exchange, each of them talking about completely different things.
"What?" Lacey blurted distractedly after nearly tripping down the last step at the end of the stands. "Oh! No, he doesn't play Quidditch—"
"No, I mean, don't you think he's impressive?" Lavender asked affectionately, a pep in her step as they stepped off the pitch. Lacey shrugged absently. Lavender grunted and peered past her to confer with Hermione, who was still enthralled in her book. "What do you think, Hermione? You'd know better than any of us."
Hermione's head rose from her book, puzzled, "What?"
"Oh, come on, guys!" Lavender sighed, throwing her head back dramatically. "Reese?"
"Hm? Oh, sure, he's fine." Reese shrugged.
Lavender was very frustrated with her unquenched curiosity, but all was forgotten as they walked into Charms, and she squished between Reese and Dean eagerly, yanking her wand out to point it at a feather awaiting airbound travel.