The Ghost Years || A Harry Potter RP || rblackbird & Mai
 

"We're finally off to Hogwarts!" Eleven-year-old Opal squealed to the two other young witches and sole wizard sitting in the train compartment with her.

Mary and Yasmine squealed back just as excitedly. Oliver simply stared out the window at the countryside whooshing by, apparently too awe-struck to speak.

"Hello!" A loud, yet breathless voice rang out in the compartment, causing the almost-nearly-there-first-years to jump in surprise, whirling about to face the door. There stood a small-boned girl with long, wavy brunette hair and clear, soft grey eyes, clutching a wand in one hand and a rat in the other.

"Oh, I'm sorry for startling you! It's just that most of the other compartments are full, and... and I don't quite feel right asking to sit with anyone older than my year. You... you all ARE first years, aren't you?" She stared around, suddenly stricken by the horrible thought that she might have stumbled into a compartment with young-looking third years or up.

"Um, no, we're first-years," Yasmine spoke up finally. She smiled at the girl in the door, who was obviously too shy to move, and yet desperate to sit down and be welcomed. "Why don't you sit next to Oliver and Opal? Oliver, stop staring out the window and scoot over for... uh..."

"Giselle!" The girl who was once in the doorway, but had now plopped down hurriedly beside Oliver, blurted out. "Giselle Laughland," she added more quietly, realizing for the first time how loud her voice sounded in the small compartment.

Yasmine's eyes widened. "Laughland? You mean, you're the granddaughter of Raul Laughland that everyone's been talking about?"

The girl called Giselle turned a slow, bright red. "P-people have been talking about me?"

"Of course they have," Opal exclaimed, goggling at Giselle as if she'd grown an extra eye in the middle of her forehead. "The Laughlands are only one of the oldest and most prominent wizarding families... well, ever! Right?"

"Yes, that's right," Mary piped up. "You're the next biggest thing to happen to the school since Harry Potter, I would guess."

Giselle's gradual flush was now paling to a light pink. "O-o-oh, r-really? I, um, I..."

"Don't be mad, Mary, nobody's that famous as Harry Potter," Opal scoffed. "Not that you're NOT famous, but... just not that much," she added to the wavy-haired brunette as if to reassure her.

"Right, don't worry that anyone's going to expect anything quite as enormous from you," Yasmine said.

"You mean they're talking about me, but... N-nobody's expecting anything of me?"

"Oh, quite, they are. Nothing as much as defeating the Dark Lord, of course, but--"

"Excuse me!" Giselle suddenly flew up from her seat, out the door, and down the aisle, leaving four surprised faces behind. She was almost to the restroom at the back of the train when she abruptly knocked into someone and consequently tumbled to the floor.

"OW! Ohhh..." She began to rub her back before looking up, her eyes widening at the figure she saw. "Oh, I'm so sorry! A-are you all right? I swear I didn't mean to--OH NO! Clarice, where's Clarice?!"

With that sudden shriek, the girl began scrabbling about the floor on all fours, completely ignoring the stares that she was drawing from others around her.

"Acci--ugh..." the girl put the dark wand back in her pocket. Charming chocolate frogs into dark chocolate in the bathroom was one thing, accio-ing a rat in the middle of a public hallway was another. Hiking up her black robe, she dropped to all fours to aid in the search of her assailant's pet. The crash hadn't really hurt, and she'd said sorry. Leastways, she seemed more concerned about the rodent that moment, calling her out on stupidly hurtling into the hall wouldn't do any good.

She crawled through the hall with the girl for a moment. She seemed to be made to wear the robes of the school. Her short, black hair was a chaos of waves, curls and spikes, falling around her pale face as she examined the floor.

"Tragula pathos..." she whispered. She waited a moment, keeping an eye out for any glimmers on the floor. Her shoulders fell after a second. The tracing spell didn't work. She'd have to work that one out, eventually.

Girlish screams erupted from a nearby compartment, and her heart leapt.

"What is that doing here!" a young voice managed to whine through the commotion. The girl with the wild hair decisively reached in through the door and took hold of the fat, furry body, jerking it into the hall.

"Clarice? Oh, thank you so much!" Without waiting for a reply, Giselle reached forward to pull the plump grey rat from the wild-haired girl's hands. "Clarice, you can't go running off like that... Oh well, I know you were startled, so I forgive you this time."

With that, the small girl snuggled the rat to her cheek. The rat, though crazed and struggling at first, seemed to calm down slightly at being restrained and talked to quietly.

Unfortunately, it was the opposite for the first-year girl who stomped out of the compartment Clarice had run into. Tossing a lock of hair back over her shoulder, she glared at the rat who was still in Giselle's grasp.

"What are you doing letting that dirty creature run around loose?"

The small girl shrank back, but seemed to take some courage in defending her pet. "Clarice is not dirty," she returned firmly, straightening up a bit. "I give her a bath and brush her once a week. And she doesn't have disease or anything like that, either, like people say. She's the cleanest, nicest rat you'll ever meet!"

"Get used to it, Wynne," called a boy's voice from inside the compartment. "Didn't I tell you that there are loads more of those where we're going? They're pets."

The girl Wynne seemed mollified by the boy's rebuke. "Well, just as long as none of them get near me again," she huffed before returning to her seat.

Giselle smiled in relief just as there came a slight scream from Wynne, "There are TOADS too?!"

"Um, I'm sorry for running into you," the grey-eyed girl spoke up, turning back to the other girl with the hair that could only be described as crazy. "It was just that the others were saying... Um, I mean, I wasn't really looking where I was going." She dropped her voice and her head, allowing her hair to fall forward to hide her face from view.

"Eh..." the girl began, "It's all right. No harm done." Her voice was low and almost monotone, with some kind of Scottish in her English. Or was it English in her Scottish? It seemed like she was trying to hide one or the other and was doing a terrible job.

An awkward silence ensued.

"I like your rat," the girl said with a tiny, flicker of a smile. She didn't seem the sort fluent in small talk, but was trying anyway. She put her hand out. "I'm Helen," she said, staring with dark, unwavering eyes. It was best to be friendly in the way she knew how, even if she didn't feel like it.

"Has anyone seen Helen Bryer?!" a voice pierced the sounds of the train car. Helen's eyes flew wide, and she threw open the door of the nearest compartment. She jumped inside, closing it behind her, then shut the inner blinds, all within seconds.

Slowly, Giselle's face rose into view once more, a brilliant smile spreading across it. "You... you like Clarice?" Obviously if someone found it in them to admire the grey rat, they could not be that bad of a person.

"H-hi." She grasped the hand proffered to her and shook it; she couldn't help but notice that her own hand was smaller and slighter. "I'm Giselle. Giselle..." She hesitated.

Then she stared as Helen leapt into the nearest compartment and concealed herself from any outside view. Looking around, she saw that people were STILL staring... They had been in some form or fashion, for SOME sort of reason, ever since she'd introduced herself. Was life at Hogwarts always going to be this way?

Helen pushed her nose against the inside window, taking a glance to the hallway through the fabric. An older boy in the uniform robe came barreling down the hall. He had a face that could only be described as rather pointed, and his eyes shot daggers, searching each compartment as he passed. His hair was short and spiked, and held an unnaturally bright shade of red that quite matched the sores coming to the surface of his face in an intensity that could only be magical.

Every time he poked his head in the door, there was a mild eruption of disgusted sounds. "I'm looking for Helen Bryer! A little imp with black hair!" he said in each one before withdrawing because of negative responses. The color in his hair was slowly changing to a deep, blood red.

It was nearly black when he turned his sharp eyes to Giselle.

Giselle instinctively backed up a step, clutching Clarice to rat to herself. "I-I-I h-haven't seen her..." she stammered, her eyes continuously flicking over to the compartment Helen was hiding in, then back to the boy's sore-covered face.

"A-are you... all right?" She squeaked, attempting to divert his attention away from Helen. "How did your face get like that? Uh, um, let me help..."

Giselle's hand shook a bit as she drew her wand out from where she had hastily stowed it in a robe pocket whilst searching for Clarice. "Um, soranofus!"

Nothing happened. The girl turned red.

"It didn't work...? I'm so sorry, I'll try again... SORANOFUS."

The sores grew in size, as did Giselle's eyes as she saw the effects of her spell.

"Oh no! I don't know what's going wrong, it wasn't like this before..." Tears began to well up in her eyes as she slowly lowered her wand to her side.

The boy tensed, his eyes growing even wider. He gritted his teeth.

"If...you...see Helen Bryer, let me know?" he said through his clenched teeth. He threw open one of the compartment doors in a flash, repeating his question to those inside. The kids were rather stunned by his appearance, but managed feeble shakes of their head in the negative. The boy withdrew and went for the other side door, but it was flung open before he had the chance.

"HIII!" Helen said, jumping out of the compartment, latching onto his neck in a pincer-like hug. He made a variety of unpleasant sounds, which eventually ended with him prying her off his neck.

"Why did you do this to me?" he screamed at her.

"Because you're a jerk," she replied calmly.

"You don't even know me!" he shreiked again.

"And yet your jerkiness shines through. That should tell you something, right there," she countered, crossing her arms.

Giselle was slowly backing away all the while, her eyes as wide as saucers. Even Clarice was quavering in her hands. Helen had done that? But she had seemed so nice, taking to Clarice like that and all...

"Excuse me, excuse me, thank you, ah... What is going on here?"

Giselle turned to see a slightly plump man with blonde hair making his way down the aisle in-between the rows of compartments.

"Pardon me, young lady," he said as he approached, turning his eyes on the girl with the rat and her wand still at her side. "You wouldn't happen to know the source of the... Ah, nevermind," he added, his focus turning to the boy with the sores on his face and the imperturbable Helen Bryer.

"You would be Miss Bryer, I take it," the robed man addressed the wild-haired girl calmly. "I've heard talk about what you did to Mister Lupin over here. As it stands, before I sentence you to detention, I'd like to hear your side of the story. Before that, however... Soranofus."

He drew his wand, aimed the tip at 'Mister Lupin''s face, and spoke the spell quietly. The sores immediately receded in size until they were gone.

Giselle looked more crestfallen than ever.

"Mister Lupin, you should stay too, please, until I have gotten both of your accounts of what happened. Well, let's see." The man surveyed the two young students before him. "I believe I will hear Mister Lupin first, then Miss Bryer."

"She gave me a boil bonbon for no reason!" Teddy Lupin burst, pointing a stern finger at the girl, his eyes flying wide.

Helen muttered something to herself along the line of "It wasn't for no reason..."

"She just waltzed up a few minutes ago, said 'I can't eat all of these,' and left it there," he finished. Helen's face had grown a small, self-amused smile. It was mostly at the recollection, re-living some kind of secret pleasure. Not so secret, anymore.

The professor--for obviously he was one--turned his contemplative gaze to Helen. "Not for no reason? Miss Bryer, could you please explain your words just then?"

Giselle was slowly shifting from one foot to the other. Should she leave the scene? Should she stay? Helen might need the moral support... but what if Helen didn't deserve it? The way she was smiling certainly was not a good indicator of her innocence, if indeed she was; and by now it wasn't looking like she was.

Giselle didn't know what to do, so she did nothing but fidget, Clarice by now curled up in the crook of her arm.

"He was making fun of one of the Hufflepuffs," she began. "He said that he was so ugly, not even a switch to Gryffindor would help his face out. It was his own fault for pigging out on the bonbons. I only thought he'd eat one, honestly..."

Helen didn't understand why it was such a big deal. If this guy was of such fantastic ability, and so much better because of his house, why didn't he just cast a spell to get rid of the boils? That's right--because of the ego factor. Which was precisely what she hoped to get at. She'd seen enough of it at home, Helen supposed she just couldn't take it anymore.

This was the beginning of a completely new life. She decided to make some changes.

Giselle stared at the boy. Had he really said something so mean?

"Ah, I see, I see." The Professor rubbed his chin for a moment before shrugging. "Well, I suppose that I have no choice. Miss Bryer, you are to serve detention for a week with Professor Grimm, starting the first day of classes after the Sorting Ceremony and Welcoming Feast. He is the Defense against the Dark Arts professor, in case you have not heard of him before. You will go to his office at your earliest convenience when classes start in order to arrange your detention. I will be speaking to him about this, so don't think that you can get away with not going at all."

With that said and done, he turned to Teddy Lupin. "While I can not give you a detention for your words, Mister Lupin, I WOULD advise you to learn to curb your tongue about your fellow schoolmates, no matter what you may personally think of them." There was a slight undercurrent of disapproval running throughout the professor's words.

"And you, young lady--" Giselle jumped with a gasp as the professor turned to her. "--should probably find somewhere to sit soon. We will be arriving at Hogwarts in due time. That goes for the rest of you as well," he called out to the students who were blatantly ogling the detention-giving going on. He then made his way down the aisle into a compartment reserved for professors.

"Professor Grimm?" Helen said to herself, after the man left. She sort of liked the name. But she'd never had anything like detention as far as she could remember. And the professor had said with Grimm. All she could think of was the times her uncle made her stay home with him because she'd forgotten to clean her tower. No big deal. She hoped.

While Helen seemed to be taking the sentence quite well, Teddy gave a low growl that turned his hair a blinding shade of yellow. He gritted his teeth, turned on his heel, and stormed down the hallway, presumably back to his own seat. The windows of the train were dark, and there was the quiet murmur of conversation from the compartments, after the first years had drawn their heads back inside and closed the doors.

Helen stared at Giselle blankly, once she realized that the girl was still there.
"You heard the man. We should get back to our seats," she said, pushing past her to walk down the hall.

Giselle stared at Helen's back for a few moments, still shifting from foot to foot, before finally hurtling after her.

"W-wait! Can I sit with you? I..." In a quieter tone, she continued, "I don't really have anyone else to sit with, and... and I don't want to be alone until we get to the school."

Internally, she was telling herself that it was alright to ask. Helen was not a bad person. Helen had done it to avenge the Hufflepuff, which was... well, it WAS rather valiant, wasn't it?

...Wasn't it?

Giselle held her breath as she waited for Helen to reply. Clarice shifted into a more comfortable position in her arms.

Helen stopped in mid-step. Before turning, a slight smile flickered to life. Her face was blank as she turned to look over her shoulder.

"Sure, why not? Next car, at the end. Come on," she said, then turned back around to resume her pace. It wasn't as if she wanted to be rid of the girl, but being over-friendly was not Helen's nature. She'd told her where the compartment was--there was no need to stick around. She'd have to learn some confidence pretty soon--Helen and the strange little girl both--if they wanted to do well in the new life of theirs.

She quickly vanished through the next door.

Once she was seated across from Helen in the compartment, Giselle found herself babbling at a near-frenetic speed, as was to be expected when she was excited or nervous. She happened to be a mixture of both at the moment.

"You said your name was Helen, right? I'm so sorry that you got detention before we've even arrived at the school! I mean, it's terrible that you have gotten detention at all--" Giselle was obviously one of those well-behaved children. "--but to not be able to enjoy getting to know the school for the first week... Oh, but I could explore on my own, and then I could show you around when the week is up. That is, if you don't mind! I don't get the feeling that you would mind, but still, I don't want to force my company on you if there's a chance you wouldn't want it."

She stopped to take a deep breath.

"I still feel like we haven't had the chance to get properly acquainted. Let me introduce myself again. I am Giselle Laughland, nice to--"

Before, she had been prattling on full-speed out of sheer nerves. Now, however, she caught herself with a small, terrified gasp. She'd messed up! Now Helen knew her name. Would she react the same way those other kids had? Maybe she was a Muggle. Maybe she'd never heard the Laughland name before.

Giselle tried a little laugh, tried to come off as casual and unaffected by her mistake. It came out forced and strained, even to her.

"I... I'm sorry," she stammered, shy once more. She bowed her head to allow her long hair to fall forward, hiding her face.

A smile came out one side of Helen's mouth as Giselle's head went down. She tried her best not to laugh, and that was definitely saying something about the generally serious girl. She'd been listening patiently to Giselle's babbling, looking out the dark window now and then, to the lights in the distance. Were they muggle or magical?

Helen had heard other members of famous families go at it, their words pouring out with hardly a check, but Giselle seemed different. She was nervous, instead of arrogant. She had made real mistakes and didn't try to punish those who laughed at them. Beside, weren't the Laughlands third only to the Potters and the Malfoys, magically? This girl certainly didn't carry her family's legacy...

She put her hand out in an instant. "Helen Bryer. Of London," she said, her eyes unwavering. The Bryers weren't very well known, or even the extended family, so Giselle probably thought she was some kind of muggle-raised kid. Helen definitely wasn't going to elaborate or correct her. There was no need.

Giselle's head snapped up. An instant later, her hand shot out to grasp Helen's.

"Bryer? That's a nice name. Like the plant? Oh, I don't mean that you're prickly and unapproachable, but it always makes me think of a rosebush. They're prickly too, but they're so pretty. Anyway, can't briars grow flowers?" Not that Giselle herself would know; she wasn't particularly a plant person.

That was how the train ride henceforth progressed, with Giselle talking on ceaselessly and happily. She didn't know if Helen cared about anything she talked about, but somehow she felt that she didn't particularly mind. That made Giselle feel more relieved than anything... besides, of course, Helen's apparent ignorance, or disregard, of her family name. If Helen was indeed from a wizarding family, she was one of the extreme few to refrain from staring shamelessly at the brunette-haired girl.

"Oh, Helen, look!" Giselle cried out later on, practically pressing her nose to the glass window of the compartment. Night had fallen, and by then all she could see were lights in the distance... but they were much closer than they had been before. "We're almost at Hogwarts. Those have to be from--"

"Everybody get yourselves and your belongings together!" Came an unidentified professor's voice from outside the compartment. "We're almost at the school, so be prepared to get off when the train stops."

Giselle by now was smiling all over herself with excitement. Her usually pallid cheeks were flushed pink, and she had tucked her hair behind her ears without realizing it.

"I can't wait," she whispered. "I just can't wait."

Helen's eyes were naturally dark, but they seemed to light up at the Professor's announcement. Her face was the same general pleasantness, but her eyes were slightly wider, and she sat up straighter. She pushed through her own happy, stunned thoughts of It's finally here...it's finally here...it's finally here... and stood to pull her bag from the top rack. It was a saddle bag about the size of a small book. She slipped off her black robe, slung the bag over her shoulder, then slid back into it.

As if she'd done nothing at all, Helen plopped back down on the seat and waited for the train to slow. Now and then, she mentally checked that her wand was still there, inside her sleeve. She didn't really need it there, but she had it there, anyway. She didn't know why.

"...finally here..."

"...took forever..."

"...boats across the lake..."

"...giant squid..."

Giselle could hear the voices of various students all around her as she drifted from the compartment she shared with Helen in a daze, the ecstatic smile on her face a bit toned down to one of delirious contentment. Stopping every so often to wait for Helen, she made her way to the exit of their train car, descended the steps, and looked up into the very hairy face of a very tall, large man.

She blinked, her dazed state changing to one of confusion. Then she realized that she was staring and, ducking her head, hastily made her way to where a professor was waving students into a bevy of small wooden boats.

"It looks like we're going to the castle this way," Giselle reported to Helen, happy to be arriving at Hogwarts once more. "I can't wait!"

"You're not nervous to be sorted?" A boy asked her, obviously overhearing her words. He himself looked anxious, clutching his wand to his chest.

Giselle blinked. "No... why would I be?"

"Well, it only determines which House you're going to be in for seven more years here!" He burst out, eyes wide. "Me, I just don't want to be a Hufflepuff. Or a Slytherin. I don't care if that Severus Snape was a hero in the War against the Dark Lord, I heard he was a right git overall. And--"

"Shut it, you, my pa was in Slytherin and he's turned out fine," a girl snapped out, her face flushing red. The boy also turned red and fell silent.

Giselle turned to Helen, her eyes quizzical. "Does it really make such a difference what House you get into? I-is..." Her stammer was back. "...is it really so important to be sorted into one House over another?"

Helen had been walking at Giselle's side silently. She only turned directly to her when she was spoken to in a manner that asked an answer. The night was a mild one, perfect for the journey across the water. The lanterns and other lights glowed eerily in the night, marking the path of the new students as they filed onto the boats.

Her face heated as she caught the other student's remark, but it soon dispelled, and she smiled to herself as the other girl sharply bit back. Helen was about to, but it had been taken care of. Giselle's words registered in her head, and the smile dropped into all seriousness. "People think what they want, but that has no bearing on the truth of anything. I've never noticed any difference among them, actually. They're just...different. If that makes any sense." Her words trailed off near the end as the two stepped onto the rocking boat.

There was a loud splash further down the beach. That large, hairy man thundered across the grass.
"Oy! No swimmin'!" he commanded. Helen and some of the others stared as his giant hand drew an eleven-year-old from the water, who had, evidently, fallen in. He was set gingerly on his feet. A few more words were said, the enormous man nodded, then they all headed back to the boats.

Helen grew slightly alarmed as the big man headed to the head of the boat she and Giselle sat in.

"Oh. I... I see," Giselle answered, smiling rather helplessly. She actually did not understand, but somehow she had grown to trust Helen in the short time they had spent together on the train. Maybe it was because the wild-haired girl seemed to honestly take Giselle seriously, or did not seem perturbed by her family name. Either way, it was... nice.

"Alright there, Hagrid? Need any help with getting the First-Years settled in the boats?" The professor from before called out from just behind the boat Giselle was sitting in, causing her to jump and twitch around guiltily, even though she had done absolutely nothing wrong. He noticed her anxious movement and looked down, smiling as he recognized her.

"Ah, hello again, er..."

Giselle let him trail off before she realized he was waiting for her to say her name. "Um, Giselle," she squeaked out.

"Giselle. So you're both First-Years?" He looked both at her and Helen; as his eyes directed at Helen they bore no animosity or distrust from their earlier encounter. "Oh, by the way, I'm Professor Longbottom, Herbology professor. I'll be having you two for class, either tomorrow or the day after that, depending on what House you get into.

"Ah, the boats are about to set off, are they?" He asked nobody in particular, looking up. "Well then, I expect I will be seeing you both later. Have fun at the Sorting and the Feast."

With a wave, he turned and walked off to usher a few stragglers into the last empty boat.

The moment the last children were seated in the boats, they pulled away from the beach. Some boats jerked, others were more graceful, but dozens of hearts leapt as they started off. The mass of future students glided over the dark water, each lantern cheerfully glowing at the bow. There wasn't much conversation, but a strange, low buzz of awe and excitement as they neared the massive castle. The enormous man in the front of that particular boat didn't say much, and Helen thought he might have dropped off to sleep--but, a second later, he spoke.

Helen was dragging her hand in the water for a few seconds at a time, fighting the fear of this "Giant Squid" with her desire to do so. "So, how are you fine young people?" the man rumbled. Helen snatched her hand out of the water, suddenly feeling as if she was doing something disallowed. A moment later, she put it back in. It wasn't like her, and she didn't really care to start a new habit.

"Um...fine?" she croaked out.
They were nearly up to the castle.

Giselle stared up in awe at the giant of a man. Was this... really a giant? No, he wasn't big enough, but... he was still far too large to be a normal human. Wasn't he?

"U-um, yes, fine," she stuttered out, taking refuge in following Helen's lead.

"...Great Hall..."

"...Sorting..."

"...Gryffindor... then there's Hufflepuf..."

Giselle could not help the heightened excitement that flowed through her at hearing the conversation all around her from her fellow students. Seeing Helen's hand in the water, she impulsively put her own in. The water was cold, but in a refreshing way, and--

"EEEE!" She yanked her hand back out, almost falling out of the boat. It felt as if EVERYONE had turned to stare.

"S-s-s-something touched my hand!" Giselle babbled, clutching it to her chest.