12 ~ Worse than a Mudblood

There are scars you see, and scars you simply understand.

Remus' POV:

     My gaze was fixed on the girl as if rooted in place. Phil stood at the end of the hall. She had clasped her hands behind her back and her gaze followed every ever so small movement of the Headmaster of Hogwarts.     The murmur of voices that sounded from all sides and of course had arisen because of her appearance seemed not to concern her, or she simply ignored it. Nevertheless, I could see how nervous she truly was. Her jaw was tense and her scar on her right cheek could be recognised more clearly like this. The scar was long, though thin, but it changed nothing.

Scars do not define us.Something I still have to learn myself.

     In the next moment Phil brushed a red strand of hair from her face, afterwards she gently ran her thin, almost gaunt-looking fingers over her scar. As if through my thoughts she had only just become aware that it even existed.           Of course I was aware that this was not her only scar. I was equally aware that in this case I was in no way inferior to her.     I shook off my thoughts, focused on what was happening in front of me. Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked forward to his golden lectern.      With his hands, on whose fingers many rings could be seen, he made himself noticed and thus had the attention of the wizards and witches of Hogwarts. It became quiet. The magical ceiling of the hall revealed the snowstorm that raged outside.          "I ask for all of your attention!", the Headmaster called in a loud voice, which made the remaining voices fall silent. "As you have already noticed, we are permitted to welcome a new student to Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry", Dumbledore's questioning gaze fell upon the girl and she nodded, "I am pleased to welcome Philomela Aquila to Hogwarts!"          Now murmuring began in the Great Hall.     Of course many of those present knew this family name, and immediately afterwards the Headmaster had to call for quiet. The murmuring became very loud, rivalled a humming beehive.          "Please, you all still have young minds, certainly, but to hunger so greedily for news that does not concern any of you is not proper! Where are your manners?" Dumbledore's gaze became stern and all fell silent one after another, then the wizard continued: "Miss Aquila will attend Gryffindor House. Why she has only now come to Hogwarts is of no further importance and neither is her heritage. Hogwarts is a place of equality, and everyone should remember that!", at this point he looked especially at the Slytherins and let his gaze wander across all those present.           After his short pause his closing words followed: "Well then, thank you for your attention and now enjoy the meal!"     Professor Dumbledore nodded to Phil and she sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table. I watched her for a while longer, afterwards I turned to my friends. Just as I looked at Sirius, he began to speak: "I think it's about time that we talk to her after the meal, isn't it?"

Lily's POV:

     My eyes watched Phil as she sat down at the end of the long table and she looked overwhelmed. She ran her hand through her hair, stared at the large amount of food.      Almost all the gazes of the witches and wizards were on her back and I felt an inner anger. I could not stand it when others were treated differently because of their family names.           As a Muggle-born I knew what it felt like to feel as though one did not belong. I knew this feeling of exclusion, which often came from the Slytherins when I spoke with Sev and his friends were nearby. I did not understand how he could be friends with this kind of people, or perhaps I simply did not want to understand it.     Even in this moment the Slytherins whispered the loudest among themselves, but at the Gryffindor table many gazes were also fixed on Phil. Most at the table of the lions were curious, because with the name Aquila many had believed that the girl would come to the snakes.      Many only knew about the vile deeds of her father, yet that he had been a Gryffindor and had only later devoted himself to the Dark Arts - being a werewolf - seemed to be forgotten by most, as also by Alice. Her brown eyes were fixed on Phil and she absent-mindedly tried to catch a potato with her fork.

Why does everyone have to stare?!

     "What is it, Alice?", I asked, perhaps a little too sharply. I had a strong protective instinct.          "What?", came from her and she startled. Her fork clattered onto her plate and Dorcas and Mare also looked at me. The two interrupted their conversation, looked at us.     "You have a problem with Phil", I said shortly. Alice shook her head.          "N-no, I don't!", she defended herself, yet Dorcas replied: "A bit you do, you have to admit that, Al."          "I don't have to admit anything. I don't have a problem with her, only a slight unease inside", she explained herself, "It's not as if there is always, you know what, at Hogwarts."     So that was where the wind was blowing from.

Alice did not like the thought that Phil was a werewolf.

     "She won't kill you or turn you", I countered in a whisper and she rolled her eyes.          "I know that, thank you", Alice sounded sarcastic, "I'm sorry that you accept all people the way they are, Lily, but some simply need time to put aside prejudices. My parents have told me a lot about all families and now she is here."     "You should talk to Phil sometime", Mare said, took a sip of her water.     "Yes, all this time you've kept silent towards her. Prejudices cannot simply vanish into thin air."          "Thanks, Dorcas, I know", Alice snapped at her, "I will do it, but you also have to accept my feelings!"     "We do", I assured her and smiled at her.     "Of course!", Dorcas confirmed and Mare also nodded.          "Good.", Alice picked up her fork again, then she continued eating normally, though she no longer looked at Phil.     "I will show her the castle after the meal", I decided and my friends nodded, then we continued eating, yet the peace did not last long.     "The idiots seem to be interested in Phil as well", Dorcas stated, looked over to the familiar faces. Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Remus looked over at Phil and were having a heated discussion.     "How I hate them", Mare complained and threw them a venomous look, which Black commented on with a disgusting grin. He had noticed that we were looking over at them.          "They're probably talking about Phil", Alice speculated and joined the conversation.     "Their faces look so perfect for punching", I gripped my glass more tightly so that my knuckles turned white, "Especially Black and Potter. Ugh, how they annoy me! Remus is nice, so don't say anything against him."     "Calm down, Lily", Mare laughed, "but you can kill Potter. For my taste he looks at you far too intensely, already since the beginning of this year."     "Maybe he fancies you", Dorcas trilled and shocked I looked at Potter. He quickly looked away and it made me feel sick.

Please, Merlin, please, just no, no, I uttered a prayer.

     Afterwards I made a gesture beside my friends as if I were going to be sick. Potter was simply disgusting, arrogant and ugly, yuck!          "Never mention that again!", I threatened the three of them, who immediately began to laugh.      I shuddered once more at the thought and so the meal passed, though after the sight of Potter my appetite had vanished.

Elizabeth's POV:

Aquila...

     Of course, what else was there to expect from old Dumbledore?          The story of the strange girl had spread like wildfire over the past few days. There had been many speculations, yet her name explained everything. Naturally she was mad; Aquilas were mad.And the Slytherins knew that.      Whispering sounded, yet Dumbledore interrupted it, at least until he called for the meal. The Aquila girl went to her House table in the front row.

Gryffindor.

     I had expected nothing else. Sure, Slytherin would not have surprised me, yet with us she would not have been welcome. Before an Aquila sat down at our table, we would take in a heap of Muggles.     Whispering sounded from all sides as I placed food onto my plate. Delicious mashed potatoes with meat and gravy. To my left Avery hissed something. His neighbour quietly counted the years since one had heard nothing from Aquila, and in front of me Regulus poked at his potato gratin as if there were a prophecy lying within it.     Next to him sat my little brother Rabastan. He was in the same year as Regulus, so one year below me.     However, I only lifted my gaze when the Great Hall grew quieter and I had eaten half of my meal. The ceiling of the Great Hall displayed the falling snow. Like a silent blanket.

Philomela Aquila, I thought again and looked at the girl who only stared at her plate and ate nothing.She was pitiful.

     "Doesn't look like a legend", muttered Mulciber Jr. three seats to my right, so one seat beside Sev. I did not like Jr., because firstly he was a year older than me and had to tell everyone; and secondly, because he teased children to feel more manly.          He was just telling a stupid joke about why Aquila deserved death, and whether the new one was his daughter. It was a repulsive joke and went into a niche I would have preferred never to open.     Everyone beside him laughed, however. Even my brother laughed. Only Regulus and Sev remained quiet. Regulus, because he did not find it funny, and Sev, because he never laughed.     "Gryffindor suits her", Mulciber whispered, "like her father. Ah, it's lovely that they always say that the 'psychos' come from our House. What a lie!"          Everyone laughed again.     I caught my brother's gaze, who said: "A wonder they even let her into the castle. I don't want to ruin your year, but soon we'll all be furry misbegotten creatures. Aquilas bite."     "It's dangerous to the public!", Avery exclaimed. A small boy with blond hair and my brother's dachshund. Unlike me, Rabastan had friends - followers. I only had Sev, but it did not bother me; as a loner I was better off.

After all, all people are stupid and exhausting.

     "It is negligent to bring her here", Avery whispered further. "An Aquila, in a dormitory full of… other girls."          "We should write to our parents; this cannot go on!", complained a girl beside Mulciber. I believed her name was Jenna Wiperts, but no idea. I did not memorise the names of unimportant people.     "Or we take care of it", Junior replied.          For the first time I raised my voice: "Children of werewolves do not have to be ones. You should pay better attention in class."     Calmly I reached for my glass and took a sip. I leaned back, Junior did the same and our gazes met.     He only stared at me because he knew that my family was more influential than his. Then he added to his words: "All Aquilas should be thrown onto a pyre. They are worse than Muggle scum. You cannot disagree with me there, can you, Lestrange?"          I grinned deliberately. "Of course not, Junior."     He seemed to want to say something else, yet Wiperts demanded his attention.

Better that way.

     "Aquila", Avery repeated again, persistent like a child who had just learned to speak. "The Aquila? He is supposed to-"          "He is supposed to have done many things", Rabastan cut in with a tired tone.     "But Dumbledore wants her here", Regulus said dryly, "she is probably unimportant."     I agreed with the young Black. He did not speak much, yet when he did, it was always thoughtful. To be honest, I did not even know why he was in our House. Sure, his family had a long history in Slytherin, but Grand-Black sat in Gryffindor. Regulus would have suited Ravenclaw well.

At least then he would not be my brother's dachshund...

     Rabastan licked over his lips. "Dumbledore wants many things. Very few of them are sensible."          "Sensible is only a word when one has no power", I replied. "It says nothing. Oh, he is sensible, no, he simply does not know how to use power. Sensible people are followers. Dumbledore's decisions are therefore all sensible and he is a follower of the Ministry."     Rabastan did not pay attention to me. It did not matter to him that I had supported his statement. Instead he ran his hand through his dark hair and looked at me from his brown eyes in annoyance.     Yes, we loved each other as siblings.

So not.

     In the House of the Lestrange family there was no love anyway. We fought for the esteem of our parents, because only the successful were the winners of life. And no one wanted to belong to the losers.     At the word loser I glanced towards the Gryffindor table. In the middle sat the brainless ones, and as if Black had an additional sense, he looked at me. Grey eyes met my green ones and he provocatively twitched his brows.          I hated that bloke.     I blocked out the conversations around me, where they spoke about Ethan Aquila and how he had tyrannised the wizarding world with Greyback and other werewolves. That is, until the Aurors had nearly caught them. They were accordingly pitiful criminals, even though most of them had never been caught.     Black merely winked at me. I narrowed my eyes into slits and turned away when I heard Sev sigh beside me. He had of course noticed my gaze.     "They are not worth it, Lizzy", he said and stabbed a carrot with his fork.          "Don't call me that. I am already planning my revenge", I replied without further explanation, since Sev cared nothing for the fact that I responded to the teasing and pranks of the brainless ones with pranks as well.

I haven't stolen Potter's glasses in quite a while, I pondered.I definitely had to think of something to annoy them, since yesterday they had magically tied my and Sev's shoelaces together and we had tumbled down a staircase.

     Throughout the whole meal I kept thinking about it, because Aquila honestly did not interest me. The new girl did not interest me either, since she was a Gryffindor. She also seemed to me like someone who was afraid of her own shadow.          Like a loser.     So during the meal I imagined what Black would look like with shaved hair. Yet since I could not think of how I should accomplish such a thing, I rather considered throwing a stink bomb at them.     After all, I was Elizabeth Lestrange and one did not pick a fight with a Lestrange. In any case, it did not matter to me that the majority of the Slytherins did not understand me. As long as Black suffered torment, it was a beautiful day.     Always.