Mask

Disclaimer-I own nothing but Samantha, so the Lawyers can back off! I meant it….Don’t hurt me!!

AN-Ummm hello? *taps computer screen* There’s no use in hiding; I know that you’re there! So, the 500-some odd hits that I have, you might as well give in now and just review, because this story could use some serious feedback…..

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“There’s nothing good about goodbye I could swear I saw you cry I always knew you’d wind up falling harder There’s nothing good about goodbye Just say goodbye” Hinder, Nothing Good about Goodbye
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Jealousy and Diagon Alley

“Samantha?” Hermione knew how early it was, but she didn’t care. She had held her curiosity in as long as she could. She just HAD to know what the girl was like. Hermione was not the type of girl to be kept in the dark.

The figure wrapped up on the bed did not seem to be willing to cooperate with her, however, and failed to respond to her voice. Hermione frowned and huffed in annoyance, a sound that her friends knew her to make quite often. “Samantha!!” The figure finally rolled over and a head peeked out of the covers, giving the other girl a cold glare.

That glare was curiously familiar.

“What the hell do you want?” The accent was strange to Hermione’s ears, something markedly different from the British that she was used to hearing. Hermione frowned and put her hands on her hips.

“There is no need for you to snap my head off” Hermione huffed. She should have answered the first time her name was called, and then Hermione wouldn’t have had to call so loudly.

“And there is no reason for you to be bugging me while I'm sleeping, but you are” Sam retorted, rolling her eyes and sitting up in the bed. Since the little British witch didn’t’ seem to be going anywhere for the time being, Samantha might as well be comfortable while dealing with her.

“I heard that your Wiccan, I read in A Witch's Bible: The Complete Witches Handbook that a Wiccan is a believer or follower of Wicca, a type of Witchcraft consisting of benevolent practices derived from Christian religions” Hermione said, secure in what she had read. Now that Samantha knew Hermione was interested in her practices, no matter how strange they were, she would probably be more interested in sharing knowledge. They didn’t have to get along for their to be mutual knowledge shared.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

Samantha just stared, an eyebrow rising. Again, Hermione was stuck with the feeling that the girl was familiar, that she reminded her of someone else, but the Gryffindor brushed it off, reminding herself that Samantha was Mr. Weasley’s child. That was most likely where she had seen the expression.

“I’ve never heard of that book, and I assure you, the definition of Wicca that you just spouted off at me is dead wrong. Wiccan is, no matter what you read, A Neo-Pagan nature based practice based on Western European pre-Christian rituals. In other words, we get our powers from the Earth and don’t have to use a little wooden stick…though those are slightly useful.” Samantha’s mind drifted off to her own wand, safely tucked away in her backpack. She loved the Ebony, 10 inches with Unicorn hair piece of wood, but she was in no way reliant on it. It just made spells, slightly easier than trying Wizarding magic like she would her Halliwell magic.
“What about your mom, she was Wiccan too, and obviously you got it from her because Mr. Weasley is a normal wizard not…odd I guess you could say” Sam snapped out of her thoughts and glared at the bushy haired girl. She did NOT just call Samantha’s mother odd! Phoebe wasn’t odd!

“Look I don’t know you, and I don’t want to know you. I was going to be content to live in polite silence with you people, but you have gone and pushed my buttons! My mother DIED you arrogant bimbo, and I can’t believe that you would have the nerve to call her ODD to my FACE! Did you parents raise you with any type of manners? And here I thought that you Brits were all about being proper and polite!” Samantha was almost snarling. “And on top of that, YOU WOKE ME UP!” This bitch was about to get the brakes beaten off of her if she didn’t watch it.

“You should have already been awake, Anyway, how did your mom die? I heard that she took her own life” Hermione asked, having heard no such thing, but wanting to see how many buttons she could push. It didn’t occur to her that pushing the other girl’s buttons this far, this early in the morning could prove fatal.

“I suggest you Drop the subject, I told you I don’t want to talk about it, so if you don’t stop with the questions I’ll make you stop” Sam growled, moving to get out of the bed. She didn’t know where THAT particular rumor had come from, but she was going to stop it from going any further.

“No I will not drop the subject. I can talk freely; after all I fit in here more than you do. Ron and Harry are my friends and I am not going to let you replace me just because of your Weasley blood!” Hermione snapped and Sam frowned. So that was what this was about. She abruptly felt her anger falling away; after all, she would have felt the same way if some new girl had been thrown into her friends back home.

But that didn’t mean that girl had to be a bitch about it.

“Try me and see what happens. As for fitting in with you little group, I could care less about fitting into it. You can just keep it” Sam spoke decisively, and walked to her dresser, grabbing clothes and leaving the room. She left Hermione staring at the place where she had been a slightly dazed look on her face, as if no one had stood up to her like that in a while.

“Samantha, dear, we’re leaving for Diagon Ally in an hour.” Molly Weasley, the matriarch of the Weasley family and Samantha’s step-mother, passed her on her way to the bathroom. Samantha just nodded, not speaking. Something about that woman annoyed her, and sometimes the way that she looked at her….was frightening. As if Samantha was a threat that had to be taken out or contained.

But nothing had happened yet, so Samantha pushed it to the back of her mind. It was just her paranoia getting the best of her.

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Samantha was bored. They had been in Diagon Ally for over an hour, and she had been unable to leave Molly Weasley’s side. Ron, Hermione and Harry had escaped the moment they stepped into the ally, but Samantha had been denied that freedom. The excuse? “You don’t know the ally well enough Samantha dear, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Samantha wondered when she had turned five again. She was fifteen, more than old enough to take care of herself in a place like this…especially since anyone who would bother her had no idea of her Wiccan powers.

So she was stuck, having to listen to Mrs. Weasley talking to old acquaintances about mundane things that Sam had no interest in, and had to deal with being introduced as ‘Arthur’s Daughter, from the States.”

Molly might have well introduced her as “Arthur’s American Bastard.” It was all the same thing after all, and got Molly sympathetic looks and praise about how she was ‘the best wife Arthur could have, willing to take care of his illegitimate child.”

Samantha felt like she was going to scream. She was a child, not some Home breaking hussy! It wasn’t her fault that her father couldn’t hold his liquor or remember to use a contraceptive charm.

She had to get away from this woman before someone got hurt.

“Samantha dear, we’ll go get your robes in a moment; I just hope they have some in your size.” Thankfully, they had left the latest gaggle of women behind, but Samantha stopped in mid-step upon hearing that. They had passed a robe shop not long before, and Samantha had always had tailored robes back in the States when it came time for the term at Mulligan Prep to start up again. Did they just have stock robes here?

“Umm, Mrs. Weasley? Don’t they measure people for robes here?” Sam had been told to call her Molly, but she had the idea that that wouldn’t go over very well. As it was, the plump redhead turned and gave her a nasty look, as if her question was personally affronting..

“Yes they do, but where we have to shop, it’s all stock robes. This late in the summer, I doubt that they’ll be anything…flattering….for you, but you’ll just have to make do. Maybe next summer we’ll find some nicer ones, but we’ll just have to take what they have. Now, come on.” Samantha felt herself being pulled towards a dusty looking shop.

Kristoff’s Second-hand Robe Shop

What? She had an account at Gringott’s from her mom’s estate, and it had MORE than enough to pay for her school robes. Why were they going to shop here? Molly turned to look at after Samantha stopped in the middle of the alley, and frowned at the look on the girl’s face.

“What is it?” Samantha scowled and wrenched her arm out of the woman’s grip.

“I’m not shopping there!” Molly glared.

“Young lady you most certainly are! This is all your father can afford, so you will shop here and be grateful for it, just like your siblings!” Okay, maybe Samantha had acted a little too nice to these people. She most certainly had the money to shop elsewhere and she would most CERTAINLY have decent robes!

“I will not!” With that Samantha whirled around and walked away from the fuming redhead, who didn’t dare go after her and cause more of a scene. She snorted angrily and stormed off into the robe shop. She would deal with that. That…girl later. Right now she had to get the rest of Ginny, Ron, and the Twins supplies.

But this would have to be discussed.


AN-This wasn’t the place that I had intended to stop this chapter, but the other characters weren’t in cooperative moods, so I cut it short. Hope you enjoyed it…and to the people who are putting me on their alert, favs, or C2’s…could you please leave me a review and tell me what you like or don’t like about the fic? Its frustrating when people add you to things that say they like it, but then don’t leave a review.

As always, thanks for reading!