Just Like A Child

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Apparition was definitely not a pleasant experience, as I discovered the hard way. With only a mild warning to keep myself together as it would be a "tight squeeze", I had no idea what to expect, and basically dove in head first.

Vomiting was one of the most unpleasant things I have ever experienced, personally. I had gone to every possible extent not to literally spill my guts for a long time-- when I was about eight or nine I got the stomach virus real bad, which resulted in seventeen consecutive throw up sessions in the one day. I don't usually get sick, but when I do, it ain't pretty.

So, though I already felt ridiculous and pitiful in my magic-ignorant state, I couldn't help but begin to cry after vomiting onto the roots of some poor tree I grasped to. Dumbeldore's handkerchief pressed to my mouth, I shook.

"There there, Haeley." He lulled, patting my back. "Why so sullen? You're about to meet your brother, learn magic. Does that not please you?" He asked.

I felt guilty then, like I was being ungrateful. "Of course-- I'm so thankful, really." I assured him through breaths, sniffling. "I just... I dunno, what if he doesn't like me? What if other people don't like me?" It sounded pretentious when I said it, but it was a legitimate worry of mine. Honestly, I didn't sound the same, I didn't know a lick of magic, and I had apparently missed two years of school. How was I supposed to catch up?

"Ah." The headmaster breathed, understanding. "You are different in ways, but so are many of them. You wouldn't eve the only one to come from a family of non-magical people. Even so, you're parents were both very talented. Both attended this very school as Gryffindors, you know."

His worst spurred me on a little, giving me some hope. "What's that mean?" I asked, sniffling again.

Dumbledore gave me a reassuring pat. "Come, I will rather show you."

I dried my face and felt fine again as we entered the castle, though inside my rib cage pounded my heart, and my blood ran a hundred

miles an hour in my veins. With unsteady breathing, I shrugged on the black cloak the headmaster have to me over my old jeans and plain maroon sweater. My hair, long wild and brown, was tied up in a pony tail with a navy blue scrunchie, my feet clad in plain black boots, fuzzy on the inside.

I noticed a woman round the corner, and as she saw us, hurry over. "My dear, at last! I thought you may never arrive." Her words were stern and slightly worried, though from her expression I could see that she was also excited. Her hair was brown with gray and tied up in a bun, her face was wrinkled with age but serious and respectable at first sight. She wore a black cloak over other formal ware.

"Professor Minirva McGonagal, may I introduce Miss Haeley Potter?" Dumbledore made the introduction, and, feeling obliged, I bowed my head a little.

"Hello, ma'am." I said politely, confused at the customs here.

She simply looked pleased and pressed for time. "Well, it's nice to see another Potter around here-- though I digress you may also get into trouble."

Trouble? I had no first impression on my brother yet, but surely he couldn't be all bad? Dumbledore laughed. "Now Minirva, you're making the girl believe she's a twin to some hooligan."

Professor McGonagal waved a dismissing hand. "Anyways, let's get you sorted." As soon as she spoke, she perks a little, as if recalling something. "Might anyone want to be with her while she is sorted?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh, of course, she is being sorted with the first years."

Professor McGonagal looked taken aback. "Do you think it appropriate, Albus? After all, she is a third year." The woman pointed out, logical.