It was already their sixth year at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, But even at the immature age of sixteen, Johanna Marchesi was absolutely positively positive about one thing. She fancied James Potter. Not just a "This bloke is fit as...
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«Chapter One» "Oh, and God Bless you, my dear!"
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A NEVER-ENDING HALLWAY, walls covered in mirrors of all shapes and sizes, matched with a forever growing sound of bickering from behind, as if they're always getting closer. Johanna caught a glimpse of the crowd behind her. It was a bunch of round middle-aged men with gray stubbled chins, droopy skin, and frowning brows. They all wore boring gray suits and were rather short and round in the stomach. She couldn't see anything past them, as if the hallway she was in evaporated behind them every step they took to get closer to her. She knew she had to get away from them. She couldn't even make out what they all griped about but she knew she didn't care enough to stop and listen. Though it wasn't all that easy running away from the crowd. The skirt of the dress she wore seemed so wide the ends almost reached the two walls on either side of her. It was incredibly frilly and it was red. Johanna hated red. She squeezed her eyes shut as she dashed clumsily through the hallway, feeling the hot tears on her cheeks. She felt so much pressure metaphorically and literally.
Suddenly, a loud clack came from behind her and the hallway was silent. Way too silent. She slowed to a stop and peeked one eye open. It was really dark. The other eye opened and she squinted to see. Her hands felt around and found a wall. She followed that wall and found a little light switch that she quickly flicked. Johanna didn't like the dark much either. She realized she was in a room, but one so familiar you just know you've been there before even though she was very sure she's never been there in her life. She wasn't focused on what was around the room, it all seemed blurry compared to the figure standing on the other side from her.
"Anna, Dance with me." The figure spoke so abruptly yet their words came out so smooth. Johanna almost laughed at the phrasing but then the figure had a very, very clear face that made the smile run far away from her lips. She backed up and came to the realization she was in a dream. After all, In real life, James Potter wouldn't ask her to dance. Not like he just did, at least.
"Come on, Anna. Don't leave me hanging!" The playfulness in his voice almost convinced her, but Johanna wouldn't fall that easily. She swore off everything James Potter a while ago. She squeezed her eyes shut and crossed her arms, not wanting any part of this dream she was having. Wake up, Wake up, Wake up. She heard footsteps approaching her but they sounded more soft and light than the clunky trotting of James Potter. The person stood in front of her and she felt a sort of warmth radiating off of whoever or whatever was before her. She squinted her eyes open but there was a blurry golden light-blocking her view.
"Piccola."
Her eyes gently opened to the red canopy top of her bed and she immediately registered her sweat covered body from the fact her thighs were uncomfortably sticking to each other and the bedsheets. She also realized her face was burning and most presumingly red. Then her mind caught up and she remembers the dream. She felt a few tears come to her eyes sources from the very last bit of the dream but quickly sat up and groaned. She threw a hand over her mouth, remembering that there were three other girls around her and this was the first night of her sixth year at Hogwarts. That's probably why she had such a weird and flustering dream. One that only brought back old and rather bad memories. She threw the covers off of herself so that she wouldn't overheat and glanced out a window to see that the sun was beginning to rise. She knew she could probably easily go back to sleep, but an unusually energetic part of her urged her to get up and get an early start.
