LANCASTER / H. POTTER

EIGHT

Dear Mum,

Hello! Thank you so much for the scarf and for the owl. Thatch is a very sweet owl, but he pecks the dickens out of Ron. Also, thank you a million times for the picture. I talk to "Dad" every night, and he proves to be helpful when it comes to homework. It means a lot, even if he is just a glorified painting.

As for classes, they are...interesting to say the least. I can't stand History Of Magic, did Professor Binns happen to be alive when you had him? I'm sure even then, the class was still a snooze-fest. Flitwick's Charm class is easy, despite everyone else's complaints. Professor Quill reeks of garlic and stutters so much, I can't even understand what it is he's saying. Hermione (Have I told you about her yet?) and I have taken to teaching ourselves Defense Against The Dark Arts. Don't worry, we are taking all the necessary precautions. To everyone's surprise, especially my own, I have an affinity for Potions class. Professor Snape despite his very obvious flaws, is an excellent teacher, and I find myself excelling quite easily. I think it's my favorite class, despite having it with the Slytherins. I have it again today actually, we are brewing our first advanced potion. Whoo!

Speaking of Slytherin's, what do you know about the Malfoy family? Draco Malfoy was trying to befriend me, but I smelled something fishy and put him off. He's so unnecessarily rude to Ron and Harry and the rest of my friends. Am I sensing some prior prejudice...maybe taught by his parents? Let me know, I have a feeling I must watch out for him.

I'll be off now, I hear Ron and Harry calling for me downstairs. You were right, they've proven to be the great friends you claimed they would be. Tell Peter I said hi! I actually miss the old fart.

Lots Of Love,

Copeland Lancaster

Copeland ripped the scribbled-on page out of her journal, quickly stuffing it into an envelope and sealing it with a simple charm. It was much better and more effective than licking that repulsive glue and getting that taste in your mouth. Thatch grabbed the envelope with his claws, hooting cheerfully, stretching his wings.

"39 Murietta Place to Penelope Lancaster, at once Thatch," Copeland ordered, watching satisfied as her owl soared out of her open window, disappearing into the cloudy sky. Grabbing her bookbag off of the bed, Copeland ran down the stairs to the Commons Room where Ron had disappeared, and only Harry remained. When he saw her, he smiled politely.

"Ron went to go save our seats. But I think we both know he just wanted to start eating already," Harry joked, and Copeland gave an unladylike snort, shaking her head at her friend's antics.

As they walked through the corridor, Copeland found that things had been looking up for her and Harry in the past few weeks. This time, only a few people stopped and stared as they went past, which was a vast improvement. They walked in a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

Breakfast was eaten in near silence as well. Seamus, Neville, Ron and Harry all had their faces buried in their Potion books, trying to prepare for whatever horror Snape had prepared for them that day. Copeland barely listened to Hermione's ramblings and instead, with her face resting on her hand, stared at the Slytherin table, observing Draco's small group of friends all bustling around him.

There was Pansy Parkinson, the raven-haired girl from earlier in the year. She had a fat mouth and a pathetic obsession with Draco. It seemed to be that they were dating, or at least she thought they were. Draco seemed rather bored with it all. After their first encounter in the empty corridor, she went out of her way to make Copeland's life miserable. Backhanded comments, bumps and shoves in the hallway, spreading rumors. Just last week, a rumor had gotten around that Copeland's hair was fake. That it was a wig. They weren't very damaging rumors, considering it was only Slytherin's that really took it seriously, but it was annoying nonetheless.