The Witch.

Chapter 3: Handy Magic.

A/N: So this chapter's prett boring, but it was a filler for the next chapter, otherwise the next one'd be a bit confusing. Anyway, I enjoyed writing about what kind of magic there is as i'm especially fascinated by potions :D!!

Hope you find it interesting :)

-Harriet

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Sunlight filtered through the heavy daisy printed curtains and my eyes fluttered open. I lay in the dusty bed for a few seconds, wondering where I was and why I was here. Then it was as though some mysterious force had opened the flood gates to my mind and in one quick gush, everything flooded back. I winced in imaginary pain as my memories pounded my head; all the hurting and longing that my body had felt two days previously produced salty tears in the corners of my eyes. My 'mother' and 'father' had been revealed for what they really were; sick, twisted, evil people. See, until my eleventh birthday, I was just a normal child; I went to St Madison's Finishing School for young able and talented girls. I also had perfect parents. Too perfect in fact. They'd buy me whatever I wanted, which was normally books, never discipline me, let me do whatever I wanted; I was a free child, as long as they were always there with me. They never allowed me to go anywhere on my own, told me the world was full of bad people that wouldn't spare me just because I was an innocent little girl. Who knew that it was in fact them, the people I trusted the most, that played the bad guys in my tale. I abruptly shook my head to clear my mind of these overwhelmingly painful thoughts and soon realised that Harry had shared the double room with me. My cheeks flushed scarlet at the thought of my pitiful sobs reaching his ears. I peeked over my shoulder to the separate bed where Harry was sitting, completely awake and curious.

"Bad dream?" He asked, wiping his round glasses on his orange Chudley Cannons pyjama top that Ron bought his for Christmas last year.

"Yeah, someone set fire to Hogwarts library and Hermione went on a nerd rampage. Horrid dream." I muttered, glad that Harry had given me a good excuse as to why I was crying.

"Sounds bad, but in reality, you'd join her," Harry teased, swinging his legs over the side of his bed, causing millions of dust particles to float into the air, "But on a more serious note, if we don't get moving soon, Hermione seriously will go on a rampage!"

Watching Harry groggily stagger out of the room door and towards the small bathroom down the corridor, I entered the combination into the heavy brass lock and flipped open my trunks lid. Everything inside had collapsed into a messy heap and it was virtually impossible to yank my favourite purple jumper and a pair of faded jeans from beneath the clutter. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror for the first time since I fled the heart of London on Tuesday night. I was repulsed by what I saw reflected back at me, how could I have let anyone see me like this, let alone Harry! My dark blonde hair fell in greasy waves about two inches past my shoulders and my full fringe stuck up in random directions. My dark green-brown eyes had lost their usual, distinctive sparkle, dark circles had formed under them from sleeping rough for the last few days and what little makeup I had been wearing had run and smudged across my pasty face. I dug around in my trunk and located a fluffy red and gold towel and my bag of toiletries. Hugging them and my clean clothes against my tall, slender body, I trudged my way barefoot down the hall towards the one shared bathroom. Luckily, it was fairly early so no other witches or wizards were waiting to use the dingy little room.

After a 5 minute wait watching two black cats fight on a roof outside of the window, Harry emerged smelling of soap and wearing a clean t-shirt, jeans and a pair of muddy brown converse. His hair was damp and carelessly ruffled into a style that made him look younger somehow. I strode past him, trying not to meet his eyes in case he noticed how disgusting how looked and bolted the creaky wooden door behind me. After bathing in the tiny metal tub, I changed into my fresh clothes and opened my bag; this was one of my favourite parts of being a witch, you need never worry about having to carry around flat irons or curling tongues or waterproof mascara, you could whip up a few potions and be perfectly fine. Me and Hermione would quite often spend rainy Sunday afternoons in the Gryffindor common room brewing experimental potions that'd do everything from temporarily change the colour of your hair to stop you from biting your finger nails. Me and Hermione weren't vanity obsessed like some other Hogwarts girls (Lavender Brown being a prime example), but what girl doesn't wish to improve their looks slightly? Besides, it made us a few extra Galleons each month and was fun, so why not? I rummaged around in my bag until I found a plastic tub labelled 'Amdryficus', I shook the glittery powder onto my hair until it was evenly covered and then dragged a brush through. Magically, my hair was dry, fluffy and back to its normal curly self. Next, I smoothed so 'Silooth' onto it and all my loose curls became straight, sleek locks. Finally, I applied a small amount of makeup onto my dark circles and headed back to the room. Oh how I love magic, how do muggles survive without it!? I thought happily to myself as I re-packed my towel, bag and pyjamas. Slipping on some comfy shoes, Harry dragged my trunk down to the bar, muttering about how he wished he could use magic outside of school; I quietly giggled to myself.