The First Signs of a Storm - Prisoner of Azkaban - Book 1

Chapter 34: Not a Villain

Storm

Hogsmeade was cold and covered in snow the next morning, the first snow of the year had fallen in the night. A blanket of white over the vast landscape made Storm wrap up warm in thick black cotton long-johns that clung to her figure. The British winter was not as cold as the weather's she'd faced in the North, where the standard issue uniform of Durmstrang were cloaks of thick, matted fur.
Getting used to climates was a thing that Storm had struggled with, wherever she went. Sometimes she'd get cold when the sun was out, or - like that morning - quite warm when the sun came down despite the bitter temperature of the snow.
     Armed with black shin-high boots and said blood red Durmstrang cloak, without their school emblem stitched into it, her belt around her waist, she looked like some ancient warrior with the scars that were visible on her face and neck.
     She'd hardly paid much attention to them, having accepted their presence since their infliction. But she understood all the curiosity. It wasn't every day you came across a witch with more scars than she'd had hot dinners.

Storm had insisted on going Christmas shopping, to which she'd explained to her fellow Rejects, that she did not want to risk them seeing their presents. Of course, the three of them had not expected nor wanted anything from her.
     Not that she cared.
     So, having wondered from shop to shop, buying things left, right and centre, her money dwindling greatly, Storm was glad when The Three Broomsticks came into her sights. She all but stumbled through the door, hands red with the cold and her legs aching.
     However, before she could cross the street to the door, she heard someone call her name. She turned around, but saw no one looking in her direction. Strange. Facing the pub again, she pushed the door to, the wall of warmth hitting her as she stepped quickly inside.
     As soon as the door closed behind her, the noise levels dipped as her silver eyes scanned the busy inn. A few of the teachers were at a table in the far corner, with Ron and Hermione looking suspicious on the other side of the partition. She saw three empty glasses of Butterbeer on their table and smirked, making a bee-line for the bar. So after and George had passed the Marauder's Map onto Harry, who was - undoubtedly - beneath his Invisibility cloak.
      "Good afternoon, Madam Rosmerta." She greeted at the young-looking middle-aged witch. "Good afternoon." She added to the dark-haired wizard sat at the bar, drinking deeply from his tankard of mead.
     Storm hadn't done anything to change her appearance in the hours following dinner the night before. Nor did she do anything to make herself feel concealed and restricted. Madam Rosmerta, looking up from serving another mead to another gentleman, did a double take before her face morphed into horror. And then, the realisation dawned on her that, Storm was not in fact, her fathers' deranged cousin; Bellatrix.
     "I - I'm s-sorry." Stuttered the landlady in fear and embarrassment. Storm merely shook her head an inch with a wide, unbothered smile - feeling entirely at ease.
     "No apology necessary." Replied Storm, pushing her hair from her face. Rosmerta's eyes grazed over her facial scarring. "I admit, it is most unhelpful to bare such a resemblance to such a - psychotic maniac." She accentuated her words, before chuckling. "Still, I take no offence to it-"
     She trailed off, concentrating - but not as hard as before - her eyes able to stay open as she turned her hair from her black curls, to a waterfall of pillar box red, reaching her shoulders. She did so out of curtesy, but only so it was known to few who had witnessed, that Storm did in fact look like Bellatrix Lestrange. Word like that would travel fast. And Storm would be left without the never ending horror.
     Not that Storm wanted to look like her cousin. But that was just what she looked like. And Storm wanted to do what she'd been too afraid to do for most of her life.
     "What can I get you?" Asked the stunned Rosmerta, who Storm now recognised from her mother's time at school, where Storm would be allowed to sit on the bar and pour Butterbeers for the customers, as the Marauders tried aimlessly to flirt with the barmaid.
     Storm scanned the room, searching for those she had offered to buy for at the match - Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.
     Ah - she saw them at a booth with two other Hufflepuff boys, the four of them deep in conversation.
     "Seven Butterbeers and one Firewhiskey, please." She spoke softly, adding another three for Ron and Hermione. "And whatever you and this gentleman are having." She added, gesturing to the dark-haired wizard, whose head turned to hers at the words directed at him.
     "Oh, I couldn't-" his eyes widened and then he jumped to his feet, bowing his head. "Oh, e'er so sorry, Ya Majesty."
     Storm froze, but masked it well, as many heads turned at the sudden loud movement of the barstool scraping against the floor. Keeping her smile stretched over her teeth, she let out a good-natured laugh, confusing the wizard, who then looked offended.
     "Oh I thank you, kind sir." She smiled, aware of people listening in amongst their conversations. "But please, call me Storm." She offered her his hand, but he just stared at it in shock. So she continued, dropping her hand. She turned back to the bar, looking over her shoulder at him. "I admit, such a welcome shall take some getting used to. But here and now, sir, I am a student out shopping for friends, family and faculty. And, in the spirit of the festive season I ask you, what will you have to drink, sir?"
     She dug her hand into her pocket, turning back to face Madam Rosmerta.
     "2 Galleons."
     Storm hesitated, knowing that there was 10 Galleons, 12 Sickles and 5 Knuts left in her bag. Without another second, she dropped 5 Galleons onto the bar with a thudded jingle.
     "Keep the change." She smiled as Rosmerta placed the Firewhiskey onto the bar. "Merry Christmas!" She beamed, turning back to the still dumbstruck wizard. "And to you too, sir!"