Son Of Riddle

Chapter Thirteen - Charlotte

   James woke up feeling confused again, feeling snakeskin all around him. He opened his eyes and the events of the past day flooded back to him. He pulled his makeshift snakeskin blanket more tightly around him and closed his eyes tightly. He guessed he had about two hours before class actually started so he didn't need to get up immediately.
He thought about all that had happened the past day, the memories still plaguing his mind. He was right about the students hating him before they even knew him. This was inevitable, however. He knew it was going to happen, so he expected it.
He thought about the other students some. He remembered the hufflepuff girl who had talked to him, even after she found out who he was. What was her name again? She was a strange one. Too trusting. He remembered seeing the son of Harry Potter. He didn't seem to be that pompous, despite his inevitably spoiled upbringing. The only other student that caught his eye was a soft spoken and seemingly shy student with an american accent who was sorted into Gryffindor. James wasn't sure, but there was something...off...about him. Like he was hiding something.
  James rolled over on the snakeskin, dreading the day ahead of him. He knew what the students would say. He'd heard them all a million times before. He knew hearing them would be inescapable but he went anyway. He should be used to them all by now, but somehow, he wasn't. It set off a feeling inside of him that he couldn't describe but somehow it hurt. He subconsciously curled into a ball, his knees pulled up to his chest. He got a familiar flash of memories. Of his father and his death eaters. The things they used to call him. He closed his eyes tightly and tried not to think about anything. That was a long time ago. Things will get better. James shot upright as he heard a scurrying noise across the floor. He looked around for any threat, fully awake and alert.
   His attention snapped to his left as he heard the scuttling again. He got up slowly and silently to look around for the source of the sound. He turned his head so fast his neck popped and his battle reflexes kicked in and he subconsciously reached out so fast, he didn't even realize what he was doing or what he had so violently caught. He took a shaky breath and looked down at his hands and almost recoiled in shock. He had manhandled what seemed to be a baby acromantula into submission. It was squirming and flailing it's long fuzzy legs around in a feeble attempt to get out of James' grasp.
  All attempts failed, of course.
James gently examined it. It seemed to have only just hatched, as it was about the size of the hand he was holding it in.
   He thought for a moment, then spoke some soft words in an attempt to soothe the creature. It calmed down and stopped squirming after a few moments. In amazement that the creature actually understood and listened, he put it back down on the floor to see what would happen after a few minutes of speaking to it and petting it. The small acromantula didn't move. James took a step backwards. The spider followed. James laughed a little. It seemed he had a pet.
  He reached down and picked the spider back up. "I think I'll name you Charlotte." He said, remembering a muggle children's movie he had watched when he was small. The acromantula, now called Charlotte, jumped out of his hand and onto his head.
  James laughed and removed the spider from his head. "I wonder what would happen if I took you to class..." He wondered aloud.