Hidden Magic

Chapter 4

Jamaila woke the next morning feeling relaxed and warm. Looking over to Hermione's bed she noticed it was empty. Sighing, she hefted herself out of her comfy bed and trudged around doing her usual morning routines.

Hermione was sitting by the fireplace when Jamaila walked in. Hermione smiled up at her, evidently dismissing the events of the previous night. "Morning Jamaila. How do you feel?"

"Morning Hermione," responded Jamaila. "If I had a galleon for every time someone said that to me I'd be rich!" She couldn't help but to add the little comment, but as she sat down next to Hermione she felt slightly guilty, thinking, Friendly face in the morning. I could definitely get use to that!

"Sorry. I didn't realise you got offended by people asking that," Hermione said abashedly.

"You didn't offend me," Jamaila said hastily, not knowing what else to say.

"Oh right," answered Hermione. "Jamaila I don't know if you know but I only hang about with two boys."

"What's that got to do with me?" questioned Jamaila.

"Well, yesterday when I found out I was coming here," began Hermione slowly, "my friends wanted to join me. After I found out you were a girl that needed some help, I told them you might be scared of boys."

"You told some boys I was scared of them?" asked Jamaila, trying to control her temper. The girl had meant well, but what she had done had most likely destroyed Jamaila's already non-existent reputation. Great can this get any worse? Jamaila thought miserably.

"Look," said Hermione, evidently trying to curb her own temper, "all we knew was that you were a girl, and that you had been in a spot of trouble. I just assumed you'd feel uncomfortable." She looked slightly awkward.

"Listen, Hermione. The only reason I needed help was because I got bit by a werewolf, not some muggle boy!" exclaimed Jamaila irritably. She had another headache coming on and she was slightly frightened that she would hurt Hermione's feelings.

"I didn't mean to upset her. I'm an idiot sometimes!" Jamaila heard Hermione say.

Jamaila felt a twinge of guilt. The girl might be slightly tactless, but she was anything but an idiot. "No you're not."

"I'm not what?" asked Hermione, still looking moody.

"An idiot," Jamaila replied.

Looking at her with a bewildered expression, Hermione gave a slight cough. "I didn't say anything."

"You did! I heard you say 'I'm an idiot'!" insisted Jamaila.

"No Jamaila," said Hermione slowly. "I only thought that." After a while, an understanding expression came on her face. "Are you telepathic?" she questioned excitedly.

"I don't know," said Jamaila quickly, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Look we'll talk later."

"Why where are you going?" asked Hermione, also standing up.

"My shoulder," Jamaila told her.

"I'll come with you," suggested Hermione.

Shrugging her shoulders, Jamaila headed out the portrait hole with Hermione right behind her. Both girls walked down to the hospital wing in silence, Hermione was smiling at finding out that Jamaila was telepathic, and Jamaila was beginning to get agitated with all the questions that were being asked. Why can't it just be simple things that happen to me? Jamaila thought miserably.

They walked into the hospital wing five minutes later. Madam Pomfrey was mending a deep gash on someone's arm. They stepped closer and Hermione, realising whom it was, let out an audible gasp.

"What happened Professor Lupin?" Hermione gasped.

"Centaur," replied Lupin simply.

"Centaurs? What were you doing near Centaurs?" questioned Hermione.

"Well, Hagrid thought he heard something strange in the forest last night. It turns out it was only the centaur they have. It moved slightly closer to the edge of the forest and they got very protective of the forest and started shooting arrows at us," explained Lupin.

"You're lucky you only got a cut!" exclaimed Hermione, looking shocked.

Jamaila had gone over to sit in another bed, to wait until Madam Pomfrey had finished Professor Lupin. Urgh! I should have never got up, I'm so tired. Jamaila thought, yawning. Hermione noticed Jamaila had gone. Spotting her on the other bed she sighed and walked over.

"You okay?" she asked concernedly.

"Yeah. Just waiting for a new bandage," answered Jamaila, yawning again.

"Well, come back over and wait with me and Professor Lupin," suggested Hermione.

"No thank you, I'll be fine here," Jamaila told her, forcing on a smile.

Placing her hands on her hips, Hermione shook her head. "I wasn't asking." With that, she dragged Jamaila back over to where Lupin was sitting.

Jamaila silently sat and watched Hermione and Lupin talk to each other, not really wanting to add her opinion as she had been brought up to not say anything. A couple of minutes later, Madam Pomfrey came into the ward carrying a bandage.

"Miss McGowan, could you please pull your shirt across so I can put a clean bandage on," ordered Madam Pomfrey.

Jamaila pulled off her jumper, unfastened her top two buttons and stretched her shirt across. Madam Pomfrey ripped off the old banged to reveal a purpling bruised bite mark, before quickly covering it back up with a clean bandage. Then it was done. Jamaila gave a sigh and watched as Madam Pomfrey bustled off.

Fastening up her shirt and slipping her jumper back on, Jamaila smiled, looking pleased. "It got a whole lot better."

"Well it looks like it's getting better," Hermione added helpfully. "It doesn't look so bad now."

"It doesn't look bad, but it still itches quite a bit," she said, sighing moodily.

"It will do. It will get better though," Remus assured her.

"It better. It is driving me mad to have it on my shoulder when it keeps bleeding," Jamaila said unhappily.

"You're be all right," said Hermione cheerfully. She gave Jamaila a reassuring smile.

Suddenly, Jamaila felt like she couldn't take it anymore. Why did Hermione have to be so damn cheerful? "I'm going," she mumbled, slinking away.

Hermione looked puzzled. "What did I do wrong?" she asked confusedly.

***

Three hours later, Jamaila was sitting in the school library reading a Transfiguration book. The place was deserted and it should have been easy to read.

Sighing for the second time in a minute, Jamaila placed her head in her hands. What is wrong with me? I shouldn't care what other people think of me, but it does bother me a lot. Couldn't she just keep quiet for once? Thought Jamaila miserably

She sat back down and began to read until someone tapped on her arm. It was Hermione. "Can I sit down?" asked Hermione pulling out the chair. Seeing Jamaila nod, she sat down.

"What happened?" she asked sympathetically.

Doesn't she ever give up? Jamaila wondered idly. "None of your business," she said curtly.

"You should really try to be nicer, Jamaila. Let me ask you this. Do you think that if I hadn't thought this was really important I would be here?" she demanded angrily.

"Try to be nicer?" echoed Jamaila, looking half angered, half disbelieving. "Have you any idea what I've been through?" Hermione just stared at her, not knowing what to say. She opened her mouth, but Jamaila cut her off immediately. "No, you don't. I've spent the last few weeks practically in a coma. The other days before that, I was kicked out and then bitten by a werewolf. I have every right to be angry!" screamed Jamaila. All the bitterness she had felt since waking up at Hogwarts two days ago came tumbling from her mouth in mere seconds.

"Well, you don't have to be angry with everyone," comforted Hermione. "You should really talk to someone if you feel that bad about things. Talk to Professor Lupin!"

Jamaila shook her head. "No," she said bluntly.

"No?" Hermione demanded, looking furious.

"No one has to know," Jamaila said curtly.

"Jamaila, you really should tell someone," Hermione insisted.

"Why? So that they can make me feel more awkward?" scoffed Jamaila. "No thank you."

"You feel awkward around us?" Hermione questioned, trying to meet her eyes.

"Yes," whispered Jamaila, looking away.

"Why?" asked Hermione, her voice sympathetic.

Taking a shaky breath, Jamaila tried to ease out the situation. Why couldn't Hermione just leave? Taking a deep breath, she began. "Because you're like a family with Remus and God knows who else. It makes things awkward as to I don't know what to say around you and even if I did know what to say, no one would understand me."

"Jamaila, I know what you're feeling. I sometimes ask myself why would any pure-blooded wizard want to be my friend, but then I realised that it isn't what you are, but who you are," explained Hermione, feeling very uncomfortable. She sounded like a preacher or something.

"Look, maybe I'm just being stupid," replied Jamaila, her voice taking on a wistful tone. "I've had people tell me that deep down, my parents really do love me, but guess what? They never did."

Both of them fell into a comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. Family - what is it? What does it mean? Jamaila thought angrily.

After a while, Remus entered the library and broke the moment.

"Here you are! I wanted to remind you both that the feast starts in two hours," Remus said.

"Two hours!" exclaimed Jamaila. "I was planning on having a shower as well! Oh well, I best get back to Gryffindor tower. Bye!" Jamaila got up and practically ran out of the room.

At the door, Jamaila turned around and saw Hermione and Professor Lupin talking. Smiling to herself, she shook her head. That's what family is, being cared for when you don't even know it. And with that thought Jamaila walked out the door and up to Gryffindor tower.

***

Stepping out of the shower, Jamaila wrapped a towel around her body and then grabbed a smaller towel and began drying her hair.

The bite on her shoulder looked cleaner. The water had cleaned the dried blood away now, leaving it purple, blue, and it had scabbed over better than last time. Looking into the mirror she was reminded of her mum. She had long deep brown hair with a touch of red to it, her eyes were a greenish blue colour, and her complexion was pale with a slight pink tinge to her cheeks. I wish I were like them, or at least a proper witch. I never asked for this life. Whoever gave it to me was a cruel, cruel person. I wanted my mum and dad to love me so much, Jamaila thought, her eyes welling with tears.

Getting dressed, Jamaila let the tears come naturally. She had never let anyone see her cry before, and she wasn't about to wither. When Hermione banged on the bathroom door asking if she was okay, Jamaila splashed a bit of cold water on her face, pulled her socks, slipped on her shoes and hurriedly got out.

"Hey are you okay?" asked Hermione, noticing Jamaila's red eyes.

"Yeah, fine," answered Jamaila vaguely, putting her bath things away.

"How does your shoulder look now it's all cleaned up and everything?" queried Hermione.

"Yeah, fine," repeated Jamaila, gazing at an old photo of her family and taking a steadying breath,

"Are you sure you're okay, Jamaila?" Hermione insisted.

"I said I'm fine," answered Jamaila aggressively, still not looking at Hermione.

"Okay don't get defensive, I only asked!" exclaimed Hermione, shaking her head.

Jamaila got up, dropping the picture on the floor before stalking out, her shoulders hunched over. Hermione bent down and saw a picture of Jamaila's family. It was a Christmas photo and Jamaila wasn't in it. Oh Merlin! I think I really put my foot in it this time! Hermione thought miserably. Placing the photo back on top of the cabinet, she ran down to see how Jamaila was faring. How could she have been so stupid?

Hermione found Jamaila sitting with her knees tucked under her chin. Walking over, Hermione bent down in front of her, an apologetic expression on her face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"That photo was taken by me seven years ago. I was eleven then, and hadn't got into Hogwarts. All I wanted was for my mum and dad to love me. I thought if I did things for them they would start to respect me and then maybe love me as a daughter," explained Jamaila, a misty expression in her eyes.

"Did they ever learn to respect you?" asked Hermione, although she already knew the answer.

"No. I did that much for them that I became like a personal slave for them, until I finally flipped and started shouting at my father. After that, I was just told to keep out the way," answered Jamaila, trying her hardest not to cry.

"Shhh, you'll be okay, I promise," Hermione replied soothingly, while flinching inside. How could anyone be so cruel? Jamaila was their flesh and blood daughter, and they still treated her like that. It was... inhumane.

"You don't know that," sniffed Jamaila, angry with herself for crying, but not knowing how to stop.

"You're right," said Hermione evenly. "I don't know that, but I do know that everything takes time and after a while you'll be okay." She gave her a slight smile, and awkwardly patted her on the back.

"Thanks for listening to me," said Jamaila gratefully, returning the smile.

"That's okay. Anyway, let's get down to the Great Hall. People should be arriving soon," Hermione said, standing up.

As they walked to the Great Hall, Jamaila listened closely to Hermione as she explained all about the things that she had done the previous years.

***

Hermione and Jamaila had sat down at the Gryffindor table. For a while, they talked while the people slowly started coming in the hall. In the middle of her speech about how annoying the first years were, Hermione suddenly leapt up and waved enthusiastically. Jamaila turned to see a black haired boy with two red heads, a boy and a girl. As they drew closer, Jamaila saw the scar on the boy's head. This was Harry Potter, all right.

"Hi, did you all enjoy the trip?" asked Hermione, giving them a hug.

"Yeah, it was great, but it wasn't the same without you," Harry said sincerely.

"Sorry," apologized Hermione. "Anyway, this is Jamaila-Ashley McGowan."

"Or just Jamaila for short," replied Jamaila, shaking Harry's hand. It was hard to conceal her excitement. She felt like a ditzy fan girl. She was shaking Harry Potter's hand!

"Hello, Jamaila. I'm Harry Potter. This is Ron Weasley and his sister Ginny. We're Hermione's friends," said Harry. Jamaila gave Ron and Ginny hearty handshakes.

"It's nice to meet you all," Jamaila said enthusiastically.

"So, what brings you to Hogwarts, Jamaila?" questioned Ron, ignoring the glare that Hermione shot towards him.

"A home, and some help," answered Jamaila simply.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to pry," apologized Ron, seeing an unhappy look flit through Jamaila's face. Hermione rolled her eyes, a self-righteous expression on her face.

A silence fell among them. A minute later, the doors to the Great Hall opened and the first years walked in. Some of the first years looked confident and others looked petrified.

They stopped in front of a three-legged stool with a tattered old hat that perched precariously on top. The whole school fell silent. Jamaila was startled when the brim of the hat suddenly opened and it began to sing.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat that me,

For I'm the Hogwarts sorting hat.

Just try me on and I'll tell you were to go.

You might belong in Gryffindor

Where they are brave at heart,

You might belong in Ravenclaw

If you've a clever mind.

You might belong in Hufflepuff

If you are loyal and true

Or you might belong in Slytherin

If you're the cunning kind

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to go"

The hat fell silent and the hall erupted with applause. Even Jamaila was clapping, amazed that a hat could sing. The clapping finally died down and Professor McGonagall stepped forward. She was a curt, tall woman who radiated strictness. "When I call your names out you are to place the sorting hat on your head and wait to be sorted. Amanda Bryan."

A small girl with mousy brown hair walked to the stool. When she sat, the hat was placed on top of her head. They waited a couple of minutes before the hat shouted out "HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hufflepuff table burst into a frenzy of applauding and cheering. Taking off the hat, the girl ventured over to the Hufflepuff table and sat down.

The sorting had been going on for fifteen minutes now. Although Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione seemed interested in it, Jamaila was losing patience.

Letting her eyes wander across the other student table, she saw a head of silver blond hair. Well, well, well Draco Malfoy. I never thought you'd be here. I guess your mummy wouldn't let you go to Durmstrang. Well, he needn't bother me or he might just regret it, thought Jamaila maliciously. She had met Draco Malfoy before, during one of her parent's Pureblood dinner parties. He had been an absolute stuck up prat, and had even stuck a 'Kick me, I'm a Squib' sign on Jamaila's back.

The sorting finished and Professor Flitwick took the hat and stool out the hall whilst McGonagall sat herself down to the right side of Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore stood to make his yearly announcements.

"Welcome first years, and welcome back everyone else. First years, please note that the forbidden forest is as the name says forbidden and no one is to enter. If anyone wants to try out for their Quidditch house teams see the head of your houses. Now I've talked enough. Let the feast begin."

The house tables filled with food. Gaping at everything that had appeared, Jamaila began filling her plate with mash potatoes, peas, and fish sticks.

"So, Jamaila, when did you arrive at Hogwarts?" asked Harry curiously.

"About four weeks, but I didn't regain consciousness until a couple of days ago," answered Jamaila, sipping on her pumpkin juice.

"What was wrong with you?" asked Ginny. "Ouch!" someone had kicked her.

"Beaten up," replied Jamaila simply.

"So, how come your parents didn't take you in after you got hurt?" questioned Ron.

Hermione had a mortified expression on her face, and she was furiously choking whilst kicking Ron under the table. Ron didn't appear to notice.

"Don't go there Ron, you don't want to know," replied Jamaila angrily.

"Sorry," apologized Ron.

"So now everyone has sat down, do you recognise anyone else?" asked Harry trying to change the subject.

Smiling mysteriously, Jamaila nodded. "Yeah."

"Who?" asked Hermione eagerly, shooting Harry a grateful glance.

"Draco Malfoy," answered Jamaila, taking a big sip of juice.

"How do you know him?" questioned Ginny, looking incredulous.

Jamaila had no intention whatsoever to mention Malfoy's prank. It was just too horrible to speak about. "Family connections," she said, finishing off her dinner.

"And that's it? He didn't try to make friends with you?" asked Ron, looking disbelieving. "What a git!"

"Ron, if you were a Malfoy, you would have been told to stay away from people like me," answered Jamaila shortly.

No one said anything to that, so they sat in silence, eating the rest of their meal. After everyone had had their full of the dinner, the plates had cleared off all the savoury food and the desserts appeared. Jamaila had never had so much to eat and just the idea of being able to eat a dessert was making her mouth water. Absolutely brilliant! I couldn't ask for anything better, Jamaila thought blissfully, grabbing a slice of chocolate gateau and eating it very slowly, wanting to savour every mouthful.

"What year are you in Jamaila?" asked Harry curiously.

Swallowing the piece of cake she had in her mouth, she tried to act as nonchalant as possible. "I would have been in the last year of school, had I actually started at wizarding school."

"Look, you can tell me to shut up if you want, but if you never started at wizarding school, then why are you here now?" asked Ron bewildered.

"Like I said, to get help," retorted Jamaila.

"On what?" Ron asked, looking confused.

"Okay, you want to know. Watch your cup," answered Jamaila carelessly.

Staring at the cup she willed it to move. It took her about five minutes, but she finally made it move to the other side of Harry. The two boys were amazed and dumbstruck.

"Wow! You can do telekinesis!" exclaimed Ron.

"I'm also a telepath, but it isn't very strong yet," replied Jamaila confidently.

"Hang on a second here. This doesn't add up at all. You have been in Hogwarts for four weeks, but you don't regain consciousness until a couple of days ago. So, where is your family in all of this?" asked Ginny suspiciously. Her fork was posed halfway to her lemon meringue pie.

"Doesn't matter," answered Jamaila sullenly.

"Well, it must matter, because you haven't said a word about them," countered Ginny, looking slightly miffed.

"Okay, you want to know? Well, guess what? I don't know them," said Jamaila, her voice deadly quiet.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," apologized Ginny, looking horrified.

"Jamaila, half the time Ginny doesn't know what she talking about," comforted Hermione, ignoring the annoyed glance Ginny shot towards her.

Nodding her head, Jamaila went back to eating her pudding. Why do people insist on annoying me just to find something out. They finished eating their puddings when they began talking to each other again.

"So, Jamaila, do you know any of the teachers?" Harry asked while chewing on a mint humbug.

"Yeah, I've met Professor Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall, and Snape- I only met him once, though. I find Professor Lupin a bit too nice though," answered Jamaila honestly.

"Well that's Lupin alright. He can be strict, but it's very rare," Harry said, defending his favourite teacher.

"I'm sorry, but I can't get my head around the fact that someone could be that nice," said Jamaila, shuddering.

"You'll learn to," said Harry. "What did you make of Snape then?"

Hmmm... thought Jamaila. "Strange," she answered.

"Strange, why do you say that?" asked Ron.

"I don't know, I just do. I haven't really spent any time talking to him. Like I said, I only met him once," explained Jamaila.

"Well, wait till you have got Potions, then you will agree with us that he is horrible," Harry informed her.

"Well, I'll find out in two weeks. Now what time does this feast finish?" questioned Jamaila, feeling bored. There was only so much food that one could take in.

"Soon," answered Hermione, who was daintily eating chocolate mousse.

They didn't have to wait much longer, as ten minutes later Professor Dumbledore stood up. "Now that you are all fed and watered, I'm sure you all want to get to bed to start early tomorrow. The prefects will guide the first years to their house."

All the prefects from each house stood and told their first years to follow them. Hermione, as head girl, and Ron and Ginny as prefects led the Gryffindor first years out the hall. This meant Jamaila and Harry were left to walk back to Gryffindor tower together.

They were just about to step on the main staircase leading up to Gryffindor tower when it moved, meaning that they had to find another way around. Neither of them had said anything to each other until they were on the right staircase leading up to Gryffindor tower.

"Jamaila, how come you aren't taking Potions until two weeks?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I can't take it till then. Need to do the theory side of it first," Jamaila, said, inventing something random.

"Oh right, so what exactly happened that caused you to get beaten up?" questioned Harry.

"I can't say," replied Jamaila. Please don't ask anything else, she pleaded silently.

"You don't say much about anything, do you?" commented Harry.

Jamaila halted, and whirled around to him, giving him a furious glare. "No, because it has got nothing to do with you."

Harry got the point. They carried on walking again in silence. Only when they reached the portrait did Jamaila speak again and that was just to give the password. The common room was fairly empty when Jamaila and Harry walked in. Not wanting to get any more unanswerable questions fired towards her, she made her excuse and went to bed.