Wednesday
September 2, 1977
Gryffindor Dorm
Dearest Evie,
How was your train ride, and how are Charlotte and Lily? Thanks for leaving Selene with us, otherwise it could have been weeks before I heard from you! I fed her some of the owl treats you left with us, if that's okay. And tell Lily congratulations on making Head Girl, from your father and I. Hope all is well,
Lots of love,
Mum.
It is now approximately six-thirty in the morning and everyone in my dorm is asleep. There's two other Gryffindor girls in my dorm besides Lily, Lottie and I - Alice Sturnam and Marlene McKinnon.
I'm not too close with Alice, but Marley's on the quidditch team with me so we're friends. Alice and Marley hang out with the Hufflepuffs - mainly Alice's boyfriend, Frank Longbottom - but we still talk and say hi to each other. I mean, we're all friends, it's just Lily and Lottie and I are like, best friends.
Marley's one of the beaters - I'm a chaser, along with one half of the bloody prat duo, James Potter, who not only managed to become Head Boy, but he snagged bloody Quidditch Captain as well! That captaincy was mine I tell you! Mine! Is it legal for someone to be both Head Boy and Quidditch Captain? Surely they should have parameters for these sorts of things. Inclusion, you know?
Mum always sends letters on the first day of school - it's become a weird tradition of hers. I've just resorted to not bringing Selene to school with me - just her cage - so that mum can write me letters. She's so, well, clingy. I do love her for it though.
Anyway. Six-thirty. I'm a bit of an early bird. Not sure how that happened - in fifth year you couldn't get me up in time for breakfast. I'm not sure why, but halfway through sixth something just clicked and I started waking up before seven.
No-one wakes up at six-thirty, I tell you. Classes start at nine, so most people are up from seven-thirty to eight-thirty, and consequently, the great hall is always mostly empty, which makes it an excellent time for breakfast!
Wednesday
September 2, 1977
Great Hall
I'm sitting across from Dorcas Meadowes, the wonderful sixth year who completes our Gryffindor quidditch team three-woman club. She's the keeper, and bloody great good one at that. I swear, if Dorcas wasn't here we'd all be clawing our way out of the graves we'd have been buried alive in. Bloody Slytherins.
Besides Dorcas, Marley, one Bloody Prat and I, there's Thom Mickle, he's a third year, and the seeker. Martin-George McGonagall completes our chaser trio, and he's a fourth year and McGonagall's nephew to boot (there was obviously no favouritism/coercion involved in his making the team), and, well, we can't forget Johny 'Meathead' Morris, who is actually friends with Dorcas, believe it or not. Well I guess it makes sense, actually, as they're both sixth years, but well, as his name suggests, there's a logical explanation as to why he's not in Ravenclaw. He's a nice chap though.
Anyway, I'm sitting across from Dorcas, which isn't unusual, but she isn't talking, which is unusual.
"Dorcas. Meadowes. Dorc."
She lifted her head and glowered at me. "Bishop?"
Whoah. Dorcas wasn't normally a last name type person. "Um, Dorcas, you doing okay?"
I swear in that moment I thought she was going to hex me. "I was until some bloody idiot dropped a bucket of flobberworm mucus onto my head as I was coming down the stairway."
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Black
Fanfiction[WARNING: Book is not suitable for reading in quiet areas, as the emotions resulted from reading usually end in squealing and/or excessive giggling.] Eva Bishop is just trying to live her life as best as she can in her seventh year at Hogwarts Scho...
