More Questions

"What are you doing out here!" a creaky voice screams out of the crowd of working House-elves, drawing Cimsy's attention away from me.

"Mr. Gorsuch!" Cimsy screeched as she looked around frantically for something to clean. A slightly taller than average plump House Elf with the face of a triangle begins marching towards us. I couldn't tell if his arched eyebrows were because he was angry or if it was natural. As quick as a cat he popped beside Cimsy and forced her into a bow, along with himself.

"Gorsuch asks for your forgiveness! Gorsuch asks you not to punish Cimsy, and let Gorsuch handle her punishment as you deem fit," Gorsuch begs, slightly growling at Cimsy's name. Wait, I have to choose the punishment? My brain struggles to process as I look in desperation at Hagrid. Hagrid squirms a little at my plea, only to begin whistling and start avoiding eye contact.

'She must greet me every time I come here for the year and call me Miss Catlyn,' I write in response after a long chilling instance of time of them just continuing to bow.

Cimsy sits there in confusion as Gorsuch begins to stammer as he struggles to retain his composure. "Very well, if there is nothing else may Gorsuch go back to his duties?" I nod as Gorsuch springs back into the crowd shouting orders.

"How may Cimsy assist Miss Catlyn and Mister Hagrid today," Cimsy grins after regaining consciousness.

"Dumbledore asked for blood packs to be kept, can ya take us to them?" Hagrid asks for me, finally speaking!

"Cimsy knows! Follow Cimsy!" She beams as she marches off in the direction she came, forgetting the stack she came with. Hagrid and I share a glance as he takes the stack before we follow her.

She leads us past a sink, allowing Hagrid to drop the stack in, weaves through the hustle and bustle until we reach a wooden door. I help Cimsy open the door, with some reluctance from Cimsy, as a cold mist slithers out of the door.

Frozen animals of unknown origin hang from the ceiling around the square deceptively small room. The normally dark room came alive to me as my night vision overpowered the darkness. Frost hangs in the air as a seemingly magic cold wind sweeps through the meat locker.

Diamond-like shards of ice floated in place in the air, giving light to the room. No, not giving light. I know the difference between normal light and unnatural light. It was as if they were radiating some form of energy. My attention to the shards breaks as Cimsy moves to one of the chests dotted around the room. Almost falling into it, she begins to pull out the warm familiar sight of a blood pack.

After I dump all the blood packs in my bag except one, I can feel my eyes begin to glow as I take my mask off and suck a pack dry. Looking around, I realize both Cimsy's and Harigd's eyes on me. I can feel the blush rise in my cheeks as I quickly put my mask back on and we silently make our way out of the kitchen.

"Sorry if I offended you by staren' I jus' didn' knew vampire's eyes glow when eaten," I mentally kick myself in embarrassment as I shake my head and try to give him a warm smile. "Hey uhh, if yer up to it, you wan' to come to my hut an' have some tea on Friday? Talk?" I ponder his invitation as we stand in the foyer.

I reluctantly nod as I lower my head and speed into the Great Hall. The Great Hall is, unsurprisingly empty; without even a single plate of food. The candles still hung high in the air but felt unnecessary as the light shining through the windows overpowered.

"Stupid, stupid," I mentally berate myself as I shuffle to the very end of the Ravenclaw table; making it easier for the rest of the Ravenclaw's to not sit next to me and so no one has to pass near me.

I sit and wallow in my insecurities for a while until I can suck myself out of it. I'm in Bloody Hogwarts, I can't spend my time like this. I slap my cheeks a little bit to perk myself up. With that, I open up Animal Farm and dive deep into it.

"Is that a muggle book?" A brisk and straightforward voice asks, jolting me out of the epilogue. Looking around, I'm greeted by the Part-Goblin Professor. I scramble to grab my notepad out as my mind, and nerves, race.

'Good morning professor. Yes, it is, Sorry for having it out I didn't know,' I respond, stuffing the book back into my bag.

"No it's- never mind. Here's your class schedule, I expect you to make it to every class," sliding the schedule on the table, he briskly makes his way to the teachers' table. By now the rest of the school has shuffled their way into the Hall and its sleep-deprived habitants fill the air with their chatting and eating.

Unlike the rest of the room, the chilling air around me only grows with each person. Even being in a deep reading haze I could still tell that people's view of me remains the same. I shake off the quiet, normally inaudible, murmurs and glances as I turn my attention to my schedule.

Let's see, Defense Against the Dark Arts first. I wonder who's teaching that class? I've heard that not many teachers stay there for long. Although I doubt whoever they are will like me. Then Transfiguration. I think I might be good at this one. From what I've read, this field is the magic that most closely resembles science than any other so that should be right up my alley.

Next would be- my thought gets cut off as an energy similar, or at least as similar as a vague feeling could tell me at least, to the shards enters the room. Looking at the door, my two favorite Hufflepuff's I know enter the room. Does it count if they're the only ones I know?

Locking eyes with Cedric, a look of caution is quickly suppressed as he looks away to talk to some Gryffindor. How could they feel similar to the shards? No one else feels like that, so do they have something on them?

My intrigue is answered when Dumbledore enters the room. Of course the strongest wizard alive would radiate energy, but that raises another question; why? Why can I feel this? I've never read a person feeling or sensing this type of energy before. Is it because of my heritage? I highly doubt it.

My thoughts get pushed to the back of my mind as Anne begins to jump up and down, waving and trying to yell over the crowd at me. Her hair turns from natural to blond as her eyes become sun-colored. A small smile hides behind my mask, along with severe blush, as Anne speeds over to me before her brother can stop her.