Starbeam - A Wizarding World Story - ON HIATUS

Chapter 2

Bored? Nah, I've Got Books

After all my and Harry's supplies were all bought, Hagrid bought us two individual rooms in the Wizarding inn, The Leaky Cauldron. "From what I heard" (aka read in the future), Harry needed a room so that he wouldn't have to go back to his dreadful Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin. I needed one because my family lived in America, and I couldn't go back there to only have to come here about a week later, or so I told Hagrid.

The room was a little small, but being the waif-like 11-year-old I was, it was perfect sized for me and my stuff. I pulled out my Rowan wood wand and stared at it. It was pretty simple, as I was a pretty simple girl back then, but the carvings on the wood made it special. I, at first, thought the carvings were just dings in the wood from my accidentally-less-than-careful treating of it when Hagrid was getting us rooms. However, the carvings, upon close inspection, were actually small flowers delicately traced in the wood. They seemed to be either roses or some other extremely-petaled flower. I let out a content sigh as I sat on the edge of the bed in the room, staring in awe at my wand. My wish after reading the Harry Potter book series had come true, even the wish for me to go to school with the very characters in the books. A knock at the door awoke me from my awed stupor.

"Who is it?" I called, carefully placing my wand on the bedside table.

"It's Harry. Can I come in?" said raven-haired boy replied in the same volume. I grinned.

"Of course. One second." I told him before getting up and opening the door. He smiled, albeit nervously, and stepped into the room.

"So... what's up, Harry? Bored?" I asked. He nodded, the smile still on his face as he gazed over the room.

"Yeah... there isn't much to do in these rooms."

"You're not wrong. Unless you bring books for when you stay here. Especially at our age, since we can't technically go to the pub downstairs yet. By the way, I wanted to thank you for letting me borrow the money for my supplies. I'll pay you back-"

"There's no need, Claire. It was the least I could do for you." He smiled. I smiled back, before looking down at my open trunk, which was a mess.

"My trunk makes a pigs sty look super clean." I joked. Harry laughed.

"Don't worry, my trunk's in practically the same condition." He returned.

"You know, you mentioned books and reading... did you buy any?" He asked after a pause. I grinned.

"Of course I did." I told him, reaching into my messy trunk and pulling out the books I bought. He chuckled at my reply, and sat down next to me to get a closer look at the books I bought.

"Romeo & Juliet, As You Like It, The Shining, To Kill A Mockingbird, Catch-22, The Left Hand of Darkness, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, The Giving Tree, and A Wizard of Earthsea? That's a lot of books, Claire. 9 books? And all from different genres?" He questioned. I shrugged.

"I've read them all before, back in America, and thought that they would be good books to own." I replied. He chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're crazy, Claire." He told me. I shrugged again.

"Crazy is my middle name." I replied.

"Really?"

"No. It's just an expression, Harry."

"Oh. Right. I knew that."

"Mhmm. Totally." He scowled at my sarcastic reply. I just smirked.

"So, what house do you think you'll be in, Harry? I heard that there's four: Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I'm thinking either Hufflepuff and Gryffindor for myself."

"Anything but Slytherin. I met someone who knew they's be in Slytherin, and they weren't very nice to me so..." He said, answering my question. I shrug.

"Who? Do you know their name?"

"Yeah... Draco Malfoy."

"Oh. From what I've heard about him and his family from the history books, they're all gits, both sides. You see, his dad is a Malfoy, obviously, and his mom is a Black. Both are very big Voldemort supporters, so there's no way in hell Draco won't be one." I told him confidently. Harry laughed.

"Could you tell me about the houses, Claire? All I know is that Slytherins are gits."

"Sure! Gryffindors are the brave ones, outspoken, ones that are in the front lines of the battle. Ravenclaws are the thinkers, the ones who plan the attack, and might participate if their calculations prove that they won't die. Hufflepuffs are the loyal ones, the ones who will die for everybody, no matter how rude they are to them. And Slytherins are the sneaky ones, the ones who are willing to manipulate others to get what they want."

"I think you'd be a Gryffindor, then. I hope I'll be one too." Harry responded. I smiled gratefully.

"You will be, Harry. I can tell by how you hold yourself. You'll be a leader." I told him confidently. He blushed, which reminded me of something my brother told me once.

"Did you know that the word blush is just a combination of the words blood rush? Wait, sorry... you probably didn't need to know that." I stated. He shrugged.

"Maybe not, but it's still a cool fact." He replied. I sighed.

"I miss America. I never thought that it'd be this bad, this feeling." I told him. He looked confused.

"I mean, like, I've always dreamed of studying abroad in other countries, maybe traveling all over the world once I'm done, but I never once thought that I'd miss America this much, already. And it's the small different things that Americans do that makes me miss the country, like calling chips fries and crisps chips. Or the general accent. I'm from the Northwest part of America, so we don't really have any accents. An-and the way that we act too. Americans are much more rude than people here. I kept expecting people to just barge past me and not apologize for knocking all my stuff on the ground." I started to sniffle, which immediately spurred Harry into action. He quickly sat down beside me, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and pulled me closer to him in a comforting embrace.

"It's okay, Claire. It'll be okay." He whispered. I smiled gratefully at him.

"Thanks Harry." I whispered back. Then we both realized how late it was (to our 11-year-old minds).

"I should probably get back to me room." He told me. I shrugged.

"Probably, unless you want to be completely exhausted by morning." I joked tiredly. He grinned at me, then got up from the bed, and left for the door. But on his way, he stopped, turned around and said: "G'night, Claire." before turning back around and left.