Prophecy ~ Lams (COMPLETED)

Chapter 9: Biased Beetle

Peep the new cover^

Maria does some ranting here, but for a very valid reason👍👍

And there are a shitload of references in this chapter

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ALEX POV

I couldn't stop thinking about Eliza.

I had felt like I'd known her for a lot longer than a half of a day.

Even as I ate my toast and jam, I wondered what she was doing over at the Hufflepuff table. I wondered why was everything segregated between houses. Are the houses just supposed to naturally hate each other? Because in the halls, it looked like people weren't following the rules.

"Morning Alex." Maria sat right next to me, grabbing a piece of bread from my plate.

"Hey, Maria," I said, staring off into oblivion.

"What's got you starry-eyed? or better yet, who?" 

"Elizabeth Schuyler. Her beauty is beyond compare, Eliza and her midnight hair." I recited.

"Hamilton. Stop with the poetic shit. Just say you wanna 'give it to her' and I'll get what you mean."

"Maria. She. Is. Fucking. Beautiful."

"There we go, words I can understand."

"She didn't even seem interested in me last night."

"Al. Ex. An. DER. It has been like seven or so hours since you met her. But, I can always ask Peggy for you."

" Thanks, Maria, but I don't wanna seem desperate."

"Alex, you just rapped about Eliza's beauty to her sister's girlfriend. I don't know how much more desperate you can get."

"Urgh," I groaned, holding my face in her hands.

"You excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts? I heard Professor Washington's back." Maria and I both had Defence Against the Dark Arts together, which was one of our two joint classes with the Hufflepuffs. However, she hadn't been able to get into Snape's NEWT level potions class. Maria had told me that she failed her Potions OWL on purpose.

"I guess." An owl with the morning mail dropped the day's issue of The Daily Prophet into Maria's lap.

"Fucking Rita Skeeter. She can get Avada Kadavra'd for all I care. that biased little beetle."

"Who's Rita Skeeter?"

"The little bitch that just wrote about how house-elves have good quality living conditions, with direct quotes from Andrew Jackson. That Death Eater starves his house-elves and makes them wear ragged pillowcases as smocks. There was a whole investigation on it a few years ago, but Jackson had too many connections within the Ministry and it got shut down. If Skeeter were a good reporter, she would know that something was fishy. Besides her, that is."

"She sounds like a terrible person."

"Um, YA!" Just yesterday, she was spewing shit about how the International Wizard Association was a 'horrific waste of time and energy' and how the creator, Benedict Arnold, 'regrets his choices'. Like what the fuck? That's so stupid, I don't see why anyone would think it to be true. Why would the person who's worked tirelessly for years to make something happen instantly regret it? She's so dramatic, saying that 'the transfers are better off in the streets of London than within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Where safety is a low priority and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named rules."

"One: what is a Death Eater? Two: who is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" I asked, interrupting Maria from her rant. But there was one more question that I knew she wouldn't have the answer to: how were the transfers from around the world chosen for the program? Was it a goblet of fire or something crazy like that? 

"Ok, a Death Eater is a crazy psychopath who is in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and does all sorts of dark magic. Most of them have been locked up in Azkaban, but there were still a few that could get away with saying they were reformed, like Andrew Jackson. His kid goes here, he's a Slytherin like his father was. and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is the spawn of Satan, if not Satan himself. That is if Satan didn't have a nose." I snorted. "He was defeated a while ago by some order, but a lot of people have been saying that he'll return soon. Most of those people being old Death Eaters, that is."

"Why is he called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Ok, so, you really aren't supposed to say his name because people think that saying it summons him. But you know me, I don't give a flying fuck. His name is Voldemort," Maria said in a hushed voice. "I just don't really say it in public cause you never know how people will respond."

"Voldemort? That means 'steal death' in Latin."

"Optimistic, huh? Dumbledore always says 'the fear of the name only increases the fear of the thing itself'."

"He's very right about that. I'm calling him Voldemort because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gets very annoying."

"Very true."

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We had two Defense Against the Dark Arts classes per week: Monday and Tuesday. 

Maria and I entered the large classroom and I made a beeline for a desk right in the front. Maria reluctantly followed.

"Why do we have to sit in the front?" She asked.

"You don't have to sit here. You can go be mysterious and brooding in the back," I responded, sitting down and getting my wand. It was a bit broken, but it still worked. Kind of.

"I wish, but I have to keep you from shitting yourself when Eliza walks in," Maria said, sitting next to me. I blinked at her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw John walk into the classroom. That meant Eliza couldn't be too far behind. Eliza and John were always in proximity of each other, and I felt a bit of jealousy seep into my brain. But if what Jefferson had accused John of on Sorting day was true, I just had to hope that Eliza liked me and not John. (Oh Alex, you innocent oblivious idiot) John sat down on the other side of me, placing his super heavy-looking backpack on the floor. He smiled at Maria and me.

"Good Morning!" John said cheerily.

"Morning, John. Where's Eliza?" I noticed his face go dark for a second before regaining its brightness. 

"She had to go to the bathroom." Maria let out a noise and started to turn her pencil into lipstick.

"Welcome, everyone, to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm Professor Washington, and this year's class is not going to be like any class you've had before."

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Yay I'm excited to write the next chapter.

And MARIA IS A BAWSE