Lorraine Winters was born into a secretive death eater family. They were known for being spies for Voldemort and so far no one on the outside knew. She was the youngest to wear the dark mark on her arm, having gotten it when she was a year old. When...
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WORD COUNT: [1862]
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It had been announced that a group of students from two schools were going to stay at Hogwarts for some kind of tournament. Lorraine wasn't familiar with it and she didn't want to be. She'd find out in October anyway.
"Hello," Lorraine greeted the golden trio in her first potions lesson for the year. She had chosen to sit with them at their table, considering how there was one empty seat. She had expected them to tell her to leave, but they all gave her a smile.
"You're not going to crucify me for knowing Draco?" she asked them with wide eyes. The three looked at each other with raised eyebrows before they shook their heads.
"Hufflepuff's a house of healers," Hermione replied with a shrug. "You may know Draco but I sure don't believe you're like him."
Huh. That was easier than I thought. Guess I should thank my loyalty to my friends for getting me into Hufflepuff.
"So, you guys define one's personality by their house?" Lorraine asked pointedly. The three seemed surprised by her question.
"N-No," Ron sputtered. "What?"
"Hm. Okay."
"Hufflepuffs, am I right? They love everyone," Ron mumbled to Harry, who only rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. It seemed to Lorraine that she'd have more luck getting information about the trio if she got close to Ron. Even an idiot could see that he was the weakest and dumbest of the three.
"Gryffindor's, am I right? They stereotype everyone," she said sarcastically, staring at him with an unimpressed look on her face. He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.
"...Sorry."
"Ceasing chatter immediately," Snape's voice drawled as he glided into the classroom as if he were modelling his classic black robe. It flowed behind him like some ridiculous wedding dress. Quite amusing, in Lorraine's opinion. The thought of Snape in a wedding dress was certainly one that an immature student would make, but she'd never voice the thought out loud. She was allowed to be stupid in her head
"Antidotes. Tell me, does anyone know some examples of antidotes?" Snape asked the class. Hermione's hand shot up in a split second, which elicited a deep sigh from the professor. Lorraine raised her hand to spare the man the pain of allowing Hermione to answer what she imagined would be her thousandth answer in three years.
"Yes, Miss Winters?" the man said with a hint of relief. Lorraine crossed her arms on the table.
"There's your antidote to common poisons. You also have an antidote to uncommon poisons. There is also a love potion antidote, phoenix tears, and a billywig sting antidote," Lorraine answered coolly. Hermione seemed delighted that someone other than her had answered correctly. Lorraine wondered if the class was dumber than she thought.
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