Abigail's Riddle (HP fanfic)

5: Something New

        Although I fell asleep quite early, I don’t get the best sleep.  I’m a terribly light sleeper, and Myrtle is quite the snorer.  Every time she lets out one of those disgustingly loud snores, I jerk into consciousness.  I’m quite seriously considering breaking into Headmaster Dippet’s office and stealing the sorting hat so I can be in another house.  I think I’d rather be in Gryffindor that bear another night listening to her snore.

        It’s somewhere around 4:00 by the time her snores come to an end, and only three hours later I’m jerked into consciousness by Olive shaking my arm.

        "Top of the morning to you,” Olive says with a huge smile.

        I mumble something along the lines of, “Idoneatwannagoslythsool.”

        She must understand at least part of my incoherent mumbling, for she shrugs and pulls me up.  I practically fall onto the freezing hardwood floor.

        I rub my eyes, staring at Olive in bewilderment.  Every stand of her white blonde hair perfectly in place, and a smile is plastered on her face.  “How, exactly, are you awake?”

        “It’s the first day of school!  Aren’t you excited?”

        Maybe if I was in Slytherin…

        Rather than speaking my true feelings, I force a smile upon my face. “It’s just a bit too early for my liking.”

        “Well, let’s get going then!”

        I rub my eyes, blinking around the room.  It seems as if Olive isn’t quite mental, for everybody is up and most are already dressed.  Myrtle is changing in the corner, her complexion a fiery crimson as she pulls a reluctant vest over her shoulders.  She’s awkwardly posing one arm in front of her stomach, clearly trying to block the view of her excess fat.  Annabelle’s babbling to another girl with thick, round glasses and straight black hair, who looks like she could easily jump off the nearest cliff.

        A small moan escapes my lips as I attempt to stand, clutching to the dresser.  I shove on a white collared shirt, the necessary navy and bronze tie, and throw on my cloak.

        “Ready," I say.

        We clamber down the stairwell, Olive being a great deal more graceful than I.   She seems to be rather rushed, barely stopping to wave at a girl who calls her name.  I’m at a fast jog just to keep up with her, and almost trip out the door.

        “Watch it there!” the eagle calls at me as Olive seizes my arm and drags me down three stories of stairs in less than thirty seconds.

        We arrive in the great hall huffing.  I send an evil glare at her.  “What was the purpose of that, precisely?”

        “We’re getting our schedules today, of course,” a droning, nasal voice says from behind me.

         “I think we’ve got a peeping Tom,” Olive sneers, turning to see Myrtle.

        “N-n-no.  I just wanted her to understand.  I mean, I know what it’s like to be new.  Right?”

        “You’re such an Abercrombie, Myrtle.  Just go…die or something,” Olive sasses.

        The poor girl’s lower lip sticks out, and those murky brown eyes fill with water.  Before I know what’s happening, she’s running out of the room, her hands in front of her face.