|Chapitre Trois|

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THREE girls were already in the dormitory when Ophelia walked in. All the girls stopped talking and stared at the French girl with unpleasant looks on their faces.

Ophelia shook it off and walked over to one of the spare beds near a window. Her trunk looked very old and grey compared to the green and silver bedsheets.

Mademoiselle hopped lightly onto the bed and miaowed at her owner. Ophelia smiled and stroked her soft fur. "Vous ai-je manqué?" She murmured, sitting down on the bed.

Mademoiselle miaowed again, moving her head into Ophelia's hand so she'd stroke her again.

Ophelia smiled, but a lump was forming in her throat. She missed Beauxbatons. She missed her friends, she missed her own bedroom, she missed the palace, she missed the warm weather and most of all, she missed Nicholas.

He would have comforted her right now, laying next to each other. She wished he could have transferred too. Originally, he was going to come here with her but his parents refused.

They were Sang-pur (pure-blood) and never liked Ophelia for having a Moldul (muggle) for a father. Nicholas didn't share their beliefs and he was always arguing with his parents, making them hate Ophelia more than ever for turning their son against them.

Ophelia decided that she would write to him as soon as she unpacked her bags and settled in. She didn't own much so unpacking took less than ten minutes.

Ophelia polished her wand with a special cloth she'd enchanted to make it shiny. It didn't matter, however. She preferred to use her magic with just her hands.

The door opened and another girl walked inside. Unlike the other girls who were all dark-haired, she had blonde locks that bounced up and down her shoulders.

"I just got asked by Professor Slughorn to join the Slug Club." The girl boasted loudly.

"No one cares, Olive." One of the girls rolled her eyes. Ophelia thought that she looked to be the leader of the little gang here. She had wild dark curly hair and piercing silver eyes.

"Yes, but at least I get to see Tom every day." Olive sighed, sitting down on the last spare bed.

The leader of the group laughed coldly. "Please, like he'd ever be interested in someone like you. Rosier's already told me that Tom has been talking about me."

Another girl's head snapped up. "My brother? Liam?"

The leader tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Obviously. You're such an idiot sometimes, Druella."

"So did Liam Rosier really tell you that?" The tallest of the girls asked, her eyes wide.

"Are you calling me a liar?" The leader snarled.

The girl backed away. "N-no, Walburga. I-I didn't ... I didn't mean that."

"Whatever. You're just jealous, Elizabeth. You know know why? Because Charles likes me more than he does you."

The tall girl - Elizabeth - turned bright red. "I-I don't know what you mean."

Walburga rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't, you've got less brain cells than Margaret Schuyler."

There was a silence in the room as the other girls continued their jobs around the room. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a girl came in. She looked older than the five girls in the dormroom, perhaps seventeen.

"Hello girls. I just need to talk to Ophelia Pierre for a moment." The girl smiled warmly.

Ophelia got up and walked out of the room, ignoring the other girls stares. She could feel them making faces and whispering comments behind her back.

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