Bad Eggs and Suspicious Natures

Chapter Two:

Bad Eggs & Suspicious Natures

I awoke the next morning with the sudden blow of a pillow across my head. It wasn't the first time I had been awakened in this manner, so I guess anyone could say that I was used to it. However, I groaned and rolled over onto my stomach, pulling my own pillow around to cover my head. There was an exasperated sigh, and the bed sheets were whipped off the bed. I shuddered against the cold as I blindly felt around for the covers.

"Oh, wake up," Tanya said, throwing the pillow at me.

Slowly, I sat up and rubbed my eyes before I stretched towards the canopy of my bed.

As my eyes adjusted to the sudden lightness of the room, Kate said very sweetly, "You wouldn't want to be late for your first class, would you?"

She danced across the room to get something out of her trunk. I watched her do this, and observed that she was already dressed. On the bed next to mine, Tanya was trying to tie her tie. She let out a growl of frustration and gave up. Kate came to her rescue.

Finally, I managed to get out of bed and take a shower. By the time I had fixed my hair, my two friends were waiting rather impatiently: Tanya more impatient than Kate. "Oh, do come on, Karen," she whined. "I'm hungry enough to eat a bloody dragon."

We went down to breakfast together, meeting Michael and Emmett in the common room. They looked as if they were suffering from a late night celebration party in their dormitory.

"Have fun last night?" I asked them casually, knowing the answer.

Michael laughed softly. "You should have been there. You'll never believe what Emmett did."

Emmett stretched and yawned tiredly. "What did I do?"

"You stuck Leo's head in a toilet and flushed!" Michael reminded him.

"Leo who?" Tanya asked.

"Some stupid fourth year," Michael explained. "Can't remember his last name, though. Everyone just calls him Leo."

"Hey, that's him!" Emmett said, pointing to a boy walking a few yards ahead of us down the corridor.

"Yeah! Hey, Leo!" Michael called and they both raced over to him.

Leo, a small looking boy, jumped and turned around. He immediately shrank against the wall in fright at the sight of them. I winced when they suddenly crowded him, laughing and joking.

"Poor boy," I said.

"He's rather small for a fourth year, isn't he?" Tanya said, unsympathetic. "He needs to toughen up."

Kate rolled her eyes and whipped a lock of blond hair out of her face with a toss of her head. "Honestly, Tanya, you're so heartless."

The three of us sat down to breakfast in the Great Hall. All the tables were loaded down with steaming plates of sausages, eggs, bacon, toast and more. Kate, an active vegetarian, resorted to a small bowl of cereal and a piece of toast. Tanya loaded her plate down with everything within arms reach. Kate wrinkled her nose at her when Tanya bit into a juicy sausage link.

Professor Flitwick was walking down the table handing out school schedules. The pile of papers was nearly as tall as him. When he came to our spot at the table, he dropped the papers onto one of the seats with a grunt. Kate immediately jumped up to assist him while Tanya and I watched in little interest.

"Thank you, Miss Kingston," he said. "Here is your schedule."

Kate took the piece of parchment from him, and her blue eyes scanned down the page rapidly while Tanya was handed hers. Tanya seemed not to care about what her classes were. She sighed and took one glance at the parchment before tossing it aside to finish her breakfast.

When Professor Flitwick handed mine over, I was in the middle of putting some ketchup on my eggs. My eyes were immediately drawn to one thing at the bottom of the schedule. I saw that Divination had been crossed out with a single line, and Teacher's Assistant was printed directly next to it. Kate had to take the ketchup bottle away from me before I emptied half of it onto my eggs.

"Is everything to your liking, Miss Brooke?" Flitwick asked, staring at me intently.

"Yes, everything is perfect," was my automatic response before my eyes ran up the length of the table and came to a rest in the direction of the staff table.

Flitwick produced two more schedules from his stack. "These schedules are for Misters Tanner and Evans, who don't appear to be down for breakfast just yet. Will you make sure that they get them?"

Kate took them and said that she would personally make sure that they received them. I could only sit there and wonder what I had gotten myself into.

Tanya leaned over and looked at my schedule. "The rest of us don't have Defense until tomorrow. Since you're Lupin's TA, you'll tell us what he's like, won't you?"

I nodded mutely in response.

Jenna George and her "posse" flounced over to our table after she had stopped to ridicule and bully some students over at the Gryffindor table. She had fixed her hair especially for the first day of classes and put on a little extra makeup. She looked like a common whore flouncing around the castle. I made sure to point this out to her when she walked by.

She stopped and turned at my comment to stare down her dainty little nose at me. "That's rich coming from someone like you, Brooke," she said accusingly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael asked. He and Emmett had finally joined us for breakfast and were standing there, ready for a fight.

I gently said, "She's obviously talking about something that happened last year, which no one remembers."

The fact was that everyone who was in the conversation knew exactly what Jenna George was talking about. It was a sharp kick in the gut for any loyal Ravenclaw who knew. Since I was that loyal Ravenclaw who turned and fooled around with a Slytherin, it was a low blow to my reputation; especially when that Slytherin was the boyfriend of Jenna George at the time.

Jenna George's lips curled into a malicious smile at the sight of regret deep in my eyes. "Not that he really liked you, of course. He just had an itch. All boys do--especially the men. And they have to scratch it, that's all there is to it," she laughed with a little shrug. "Enjoy your breakfast," she said, her eyes lowering down to my now cold, ketchup-covered eggs. "If you can."

When she walked away, my eyes stared down at the bad eggs, and I wondered what would be the best way to murder Jenna George.

xXx

Our first class of the day we all had together: Transfiguration. "McGonagall" and "morning" do not belong in the same sentence. The entire period she lectured on and on about how we seventh years need to make this year count and take things seriously. Not only because it was our last year but also because our performance this year would reflect on our future.

I hadn't a clue what I wanted to do with my future. During our fifth year of school, our Head of House sat us all down and discussed our future plans before O.W.L.s. Professor Flitwick and I must have sat down and gone over all the possibilities for the longest time, but we had little luck. He tried to reassure me that I had plenty of time to sort things out before graduation; I still felt like he was rushing me.

My first idea was becoming a teacher. That idea vanished within the hour. Then I thought about being an artist of some kind. I could draw fairly well and my singing skills weren't so bad either. Still, those who took up drawing or painting usually did not get famous until they were dead, and my vocals were nothing compared to the Weird Sisters.

"Shut the bloody hell up, already," Tanya muttered next to me.

I had been shaken out of my reverie only to realize that I had tuned McGonagall out completely. All around me students were slumped in their chairs, bored out of their minds. Michael was falling asleep and jerking himself awake every five minutes. Oliver Wood was scribbling away on a piece of parchment. From where I sat, it looked like a Quidditch game plan of some sort. Kate was staring at McGonagall with her eyes glazed over and her head in her hand, not really listening either.

The rest of the day followed in the same manner; every teacher added his or her own element to the same old lecture, though. Professor Snape went on about the art of potion making in everyday society. The way he talked about it made me picture myself with greasy long hair and poor hygiene standing over a cauldron, brewing something disgusting. In Arithmancy, Professor Vector wanted us all to imagine complicated numbers in our future. This idea only terrified me.

Before the last period of the day, I parted ways with my friends and headed in the direction of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. I climbed the many staircases, my mind traveling many different tracks.

I slipped into the classroom which had served as my Defense classroom for the past six years. This time, however, I found it transformed into an entirely new style which was different from anything I had seen from Professors Quirrel and Lockhart. Quirrel had been famous for hanging strings of garlic from the ceiling, and Lockhart was known to have portraits of himself hanging on the walls or propped up on easels.

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, had added his own uniqueness to the room. He had skulls of magical creatures used as bookends for rows of books regarding the Dark Arts and defensive magic. The familiar skeleton of a dragon, which belonged to the school, hung from the ceiling this year. It had been found in different locations of the classroom previously.

A few students had already arrived early. They were sitting at desks and chatting to each other quietly. When I came in, they eyed me curiously and I studied them in return, recognizing them as fourth years.

"What are you doing here? It's fourth years this period, stupid," one know-it-all Gryffindor, Lyle, said rather cockily. "I think seventh years have Defense class tomorrow."

How he knew this, I would never know, but I wasn't about to put up with his bossiness. I was a seventh year after all, and I had authority as a Teacher's Assistant.

"There is no need for your toffee-nosed attitude, Mr. Lyle," I said, sounding very much like a teacher. "So shut your mouth before I permanently seal it shut with stitches."

He flinched when I produced my wand with a flourish, a needle and thread appearing in thin air.

"Miss Brooke is my Teacher's Assistant," said a voice.

I turned to see that Professor Lupin had emerged from his office and observed the scene. The heat from my blush began to creep up my neck at the sight of his amused smile. The lack of concentration made my needle and thread disappear as the professor walked over to us.

"Mr.... Lyle, was it?" he asked, looking at the fourth-year boy.

"Yes, sir," he replied.

"I would watch my back if I were you," Professor Lupin said, turning to look at me. "I've heard that Miss Brooke has quite a talent with jinxes and curses."

I cocked my head to the side and observed the professor curiously. "I wonder how you came to learn such valuable information, Professor?"

He just smiled and said, "The headmaster was more than happy to oblige in answering certain questions that I had about you."

"And they involved my abilities in defense?" I asked.

"Naturally," he said with a shrug.

I wasn't entirely convinced that those were the only types of questions he had asked Dumbledore. I was unable to put my finger on it, but I was a little suspicious of my new Defense professor.