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THE POTIONEER | 1.4 "WELL, THAT GOT DARK" Hogwarts Castle, Scotland| 1993
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ELIZABETH JUMPED OUT OF THE CARRIAGE after Ron, Hermione and Harry, all of them complaining about something, and the auburn-haired girl didn’t realize what until it was too late. She had stepped right into a freezing cold puddle, the bottoms of her newly adorned Ravenclaw robes soaking and her shoes filling with the muddy water. With a small groan, she used her wand to dry herself off, feet feeling drier than before as they set off to the castle with the rest of the bustling crowd.
“I don’t know what to make of Davina,” Hermione sighed heavily, having to step her way around yet another puddle as the huge entrance doors stood out from the front of the castle. The sight made Lizzie’s heart pound because she was back to her favorite place even if it might hold a few more secrets this year than before. “She seems nice enough, but she’s a… Well, she’s–”
“A Slytherin?” Ron finished with one eyebrow raised, and the bushy-haired girl turned red, not having wanted to say it herself.
“What’s the problem with that?” Lizzie asked, confused. Sure, the other Slytherins they had met hadn’t exactly been the nicest, but she wasn’t one to judge people based on their houses. To be honest, she thought some of the Gryffindors were quite an obnoxious bunch, but she wouldn’t say that to their faces.
