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A Real Wild Child by Moldevort
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Format: Novel
Chapters: 2
Word Count: 4,607
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Contains Spoilers

Genres: Humor, Romance
Characters: Filch, McGonagall, Trelawney, James (II), OC
Pairings: OC/OC, Other Pairing

First Published: 09/22/2012
Last Chapter: 10/09/2012
Last Updated: 10/09/2012

Summary:
 










Three things we need to clear up before we begin:

1) I wasn't expelled from my last school, they merely suggested I left.

2) I never wanted to attend Hogwarts. Like, ever.

3) I really dislike the Potter family.

All clear? Great.



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Chapter 2: What Do You Ride?
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As we walked through the station - Portus, Father and I - we took in some of the muggle sights that we don’t often see. You see, my dad, like most wizards, has a muggle fetish and is always curious to see what they are up too. But a train station has never been in his list of muggle places to visit because, unless you have somewhere to go, a train station serves no purpose for you. In my opinion, Hogwarts seems stupid so far, I mean, why would you have your magical station in a place packed with muggles? I mean, Portus had an owl on his trolley. An owl. Normal muggles don’t carry owls around in cages. We were getting odd looks, but that was to be expected. In all honesty, I blame Hogwarts. And not because Hogwarts is my new scape goat, oh no, not at all.

“What platform, guys?” My father asked. He was a tall man, his once vibrant blonde hair had now faded to a pale grey and his pale, blue eyes still sparkled with a childlike joy. Much different to my uptight, slightly irritating mother.

“Nine and… three quarters?” Portus looked at his ticket, his brow furrowing in a confused fashion, “Where’s nine and three quarters?”
“Off to Hogwarts too?” My head snapped around and I was faced with a boy, about my age and just taller than me with a trolley also. His had an owl on it, like my brother’s, but this owl was tawny, unlike Portus’ snowy one. The boy had brown hair that was swept up to one side, naturally I presumed. His eyes were a deep blue and he had a scattering of freckles over his small, shaped nose. He smiled at me, his mouth stretching slightly sideways to allow his lopsided grin to form.
“Yes… We’re kind of… The new kids…” I said, feeling slightly embarrassed at that fact.

“Oh! Right, well…” He glanced up at my father and my brother who were smiling hopefully back at him, “I guess I can show you how to get through the barrier… Follow me!” and he started off down the station at a pace. I had to literally run to keep him in sight. We screeched to a halt between the pillar for platforms nine and ten. “Watch.” He said and he ran at the wall. I gasped, expecting him to crash, but no. He sailed through the wall and disappeared on the other side.

“JACK?” A dark-haired, middle aged man with glasses ran down the other side of the platform. He was wearing a suit that made him look smart and professional. He saw us, took in our cargo and smiled in a friendly fashion before sauntering towards us, “Hello, I’m James Potter. You haven’t seen my son Jack anywhere have you? Dark hair? Freckles? Fifth year? Tawny owl?”

I smirked. So Jack was his name. Jack Potter. I’d take note of him when I got to the castle.

“Potter?” My dad quipped before I could open my mouth, “As in, Harry?”
“Yes, Harry Potter is my father,” James said, smiling and extending his hand, “Lovely to meet you!”

“Wow, I must say I’m a huge fan of your father’s! What an incredibly brave man! I’ve read all about him in history books and oh my…. Does he still have his scar?” My dad jabbered, “Oh and I’m Rufus Wilhagen, I’m new to the Ministry!”

I cringed.

“Your son is through the barrier,” I said, rolling my eyes at my father. James nodded at me gratefully and ran at the wall. I followed and my brother and father ran after me.

I braced myself for hitting the wall, colliding and then walking home with a bloody nose and a broken trunk. Suddenly, a wash of warm air flooded over me and I opened my eyes that were squeezed shut to find myself stood by a scarlet engine, it’s beauty overwhelming me. It was going to leave in five minutes. The platform bustled with mothers, fathers and students, saying their goodbyes and crying. And my mother isn’t even here. Shows how much she cares. Even Ella didn’t get out of bed early enough to say goodbye.

The next three minutes were a blur of sobs from Portus, hugs from dad and surprised yelps from the old, slightly senile cat on my trunk. I sighed, smiling at dad as he cupped his hands around my face to say a final goodbye to me, his little girl. His second born. His favourite.

“Promise me you won’t get into any trouble,” He said, sternly, “Your mother will probably pop her clogs if she finds out you get expelled from this school as well.”

I sniffed. Beauxbatons never expelled me. They merely suggested I left. In a very forceful way.

“I promise, Daddy,” I was going to be reasonable. Plus, this year was the year of my OWLs and I wasn’t about to screw them up.

“And look after your little brother. Good luck! Write home whenever you can!” Dad said, releasing his grip on my face and pulling me into one last rough hug before kissing the top of my head and pushing me towards the train door. I stepped into the carriage and walked along it, dragging my evil monstrosity of a suitcase behind me, my cat-cage in the other hand.

I tried to find an empty compartment, but after a while, I knew I had no hope in hell of doing that so I at least tried to find a quiet one. Merlin knows where Portus scampered off too. I think he found his friend, Alasdair, who he met over the summer.

I should have tried to make friends over the summer. But no. Clearly I am not as smart as my brother.

I peered through the glass windows of the cabins and soon enough, found one with just two girls sat in it. One had straight, jet black hair and a dazzling pair of green eyes and the other was ginger, with blue eyes. They looked friendly enough. I opened the door a crack and peered my head in, “Excuse me? Can I sit in here?”

The two girls exchanged looks and then the brown-haired one gestured for me to take a seat, which I did.

“Hi, I’m Poppet, I’m the new girl here at Hogwarts,” I said, giving both the girls a friendly smile. Letting the Poppet charm loose.

“Hello Poppet, I’m Emily and this is Harriet,” Said the black-haired girl. Her yellow tie caught the light. The other girl, Harriet, seemed to have a blue tie.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, “Sorry if I’m seeming intrusive. I just don’t know anyone!”

“It’s fine, honestly,” Harriet said, “You’ll get to know people soon enough.”

“I hope so,” I smiled.

They got to chatting and I sat there, absorbing the conversation and not understanding a word of it. Apparently, Emily had spent all summer with her grandfather, whose stories were interesting but nothing she’d heard a thousand times before, “Jack and I were bored stiff. Look mate, you killed You-Know-Who, good on you, but it was seventy-odd years ago…” Emily reeled.

And then, Professor Poppet worked it out. Jack and Emily were siblings. And their grandfather was Harry Potter. As in, the Harry Potter. (I already knew this)

“You’re related to Jack Potter?” I asked, interrupting Emily completely.
“He’s my twin,” Emily scowled, “Why? Have you met him?”

“Of course she’s bloody well met him, Em! And like every other girl in the school, he’s clearly made quite the impression on her. Look at her face! Poppet, I like you. You seem nice and normal and sweet and shit, but look, Jack is off-limits. He’s my second cousin and her twin brother and also, Gryiffindor Quidditch captain and school ‘hottie’. He’s banned.” Harriet explained.

“I-“ I tried to protest, but what was the use? Of course I found Jack bloody attractive, did you see the boy?

“Plus, he’s an idiot. Honestly, he may look nice, but once you get to know him, he’s a nightmare. Steer clear of his gang, too. Chris, Sam, Jordan and Max. They’re a right load of tossers as well!” Emily advised. And I took her word for it. I mean, she knows him better than anyone else in the school.

Note to self: Stay away from proclaimed git, Jack Potter. At all costs.
Of course, I wasn’t planning on being a nun this year. But as far as those boys were concerned, you can call me Sister Poppet.

The train journey was long, tedious and slow. The deep, red engine trundled through the British countryside and the only highlight so far had been the trolley, which I bought a pumpkin pasty from. I let Jazz out of her cage and she was purring on the seat next to me, being a smelly, but quite cute sight.

It was rather peaceful in our cabin. I flicked through the nonsense of the Daily Prophet while Emily and Harriet ogled over pictures of Quidditch players in glossy magazines.

It was peaceful until You-Know-Who arrived.

And by You-Know-Who, unfortunately, I don’t mean Voldemort. Oh no, I mean someone much, much worse.

“What do you want, Jack?” Emily asked; frowning as her brother leant against the doorway of our cabin, giving all three of us a lopsided grin. I rolled my eyes and Harriet noticed, nodding in approval and then stifling a laugh.

“Have you seen my wand anywhere?” Jack asked, his eyes surveying the cabin.

“You’ve lost your wand?” Harriet groaned, “You moron.”

“Oi, shut it Weasley,” Jack glared, running a hand through his hair, absent-mindedly, “Have you seen my wand, Em?”

She pulled a long, wooden object out of her pocket, “This thing? Yes, just so happens I did pick it up off the kitchen floor this morning, you utter git.”

Jack started to protest but then just gave up and let out a laugh, a low, warbling laugh, “Thanks sis, you’re a doll.”

Emily rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. SEE? I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE CHARMED BY JACK POTTER. AND AT LEAST I WOULDN’T BE INCEST IF I WAS.

“Who said you could have it?” Emily quipped.

“It’s my wand. It’s not like you could use it anyway…” Jack said, “Can I have it back?”

“What’s the magic word?” Emily teased, fiddling with the wand in her long, spindly fingers.

“Avada Kedavra?” Jack smirked, his eyes shining with mischief.
Emily frowned in a disapproving manner and Harriet and I giggled. Emily shot us a glare and we soon hushed.

“Fine,” Jack said, through gritted teeth, “Can I have my wand back, please?”

Emily grinned with the power she had over her brother, and passed him back his wand which he slid into the pockets of his chinos. Unlike the girls, he and I weren’t in our school robes yet. I was going to wait at least until we got five minutes away to do that nonsense.

“Oh hey,” He said, suddenly noticing me, “You’re the girl I helped earlier!”

“That be me,” I said, wondering why on earth I said what I just said.
Jack seemed to laugh though. So it was all good. Yep boys and girls, Poppet Wilhagen can play it cool.

“Have you got a house yet?” He asked. He didn’t seem a jerk at all, he was making friendly conversation.

“Nope,” I said, popping the p and smiling friendlily at him. He smirked.
It was all about to go downhill from here. Jack Potter was about to lose all my admiration for him. Just watch.

“I hope you’re in Gryffindor with me,” He said. That was nice, normal, civil, friendly and whatever other words you want to say that don’t mean creepy or perverted in there. In fact, at this point I had some respect for him, talking to the new kid, making her feel somewhat wanted. “I’d like to see tits like those hanging around in our common room.”

And bam. It had all gone.

I scoffed, “It would be nice if you didn’t treat me like a piece of meat.”
Jack laughed. The asshole actually laughed at me. Did he think I was JOKING? Clearly he did, what a tosser.

“I’ll see you around…” He paused as if wanting to know my name but I didn’t give him it, “Emily and Harriet...”

Emily sighed, clearly embarrassed by her brother’s juvenile behaviour. “He’s so awful, isn’t he? Didn’t we tell you?” She fired at me, and I nodded in agreement, “But yet, everyone loves him, because he’s related to a famous man and he is remotely good looking.”
Remotely? Do you need glasses, woman?

“Typical popular boy syndrome, that’s why I loved Beauxbatons! All girls, all the time!” I smiled.

“You’re lesbian?” Emily asked, wide-eyed.

Oh no. That did sound sort of wrong, “Urrr… no….” I reassured.

Harriet and Emily nodded and I blushed. They didn’t believe me. Oh shit.

We arrived at Hogsmeade and I really didn’t want to lose Emily or Harriet, this would be the worst time to do so. The station was packed with squealing first years seeing the castle and hyperventilating in it’s beauty. It was quite picturesque, but nothing to lose air over. The fifth years were herded into carriages, drawn by nothing, into the castle. I was in a carriage with Emily and Harriet. We were about to leave when there was a noise outside and some more girl climbed in. They all were wearing green ties. Emily snorted at the sight of them and I glanced over at Harriet, she mouthed a word at me that looked a lot like ‘Slithering’ and I wondered what slithering had to do with these girls.

Maybe it’s some Hogwarts joke I don’t get.

Probably.

We drew up outside the castle and suddenly, a bony hand took me by the wrist, I gasped, really wishing I had a rape alarm. An old, peaky woman with blue eyes was looking at me, she was wearing emerald robes and a thin smile. She looked friendly enough. Her wiry hair was grey, but was shoved under a tall, pointed witch’s hat. How cliché.
“Miss Wilhagen? I’m Professor McGonagall,” Rasped the elderly lady, “And I do believe you needed to be sorted. You’ll be sorted before the first years but still in front of the hall like the first years. Your brother is waiting in the hall with the other first years, come with me.”
I followed Professor McGonagall as she shuffled down the corridor, clearly with great difficulty. We stopped outside a huge set of wooden double doors. There were first years milling around, chirping with the exciting prospect that they were at a wizard school, bless them. Finally, we filed into the hall. Do you know how self conscious I felt? You can’t begin to imagine how awful it is, walking with a set of squealing first years, admiring the ceiling (which is clearly bewitched and hardly interesting) and making a fucking racket over nothing. So cool, we were in a long room, with four wooden tables, a fireplace on one side and a horizontal table at the other end, where the teachers sat. In front of the table was a grubby little stool and placed on top of it, a grubby looking hat.

Professor Longbottom made a speech, including the fact that I’d transferred here from Beauxbatons which sent a gasp through the male population of the hall and that I was going to be sorted first, and my second year brother would be sorted second.

I stepped forward and took a seat on the grim, dirty stool and Professor McGonagall put the disgusting, mouldy hat on top of my head.

Interesting…. Very interesting…

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?

Don’t fear me, my darling, I am the sorting hat. Nobody else can hear me but you. I am here to put you in your house. Now let’s see what qualities you have, eh? You’re very devious… Slytherin could do with someone like you…

Slytherin. That was what Harriet mouthed to me on the carriage. Not them, oh please, no.

I suppose you’re right… Your heart is pure… You’re intelligent… But what strikes me most about you is your spunk.

My what?! That sounded… err… rude.

Your charisma, my dear. Not any bodily fluids. You sure are a lively one. Well… I guess it’s going to have to be… “GRYFFINDOR!”

He shouted the last bit. If you can even call him a he. I sighed, Emily was in Hufflepuff and Harriet was in Ravenclaw. I wanted to at least know someone.

And then my eyes widened. Clapping hard on the Gryffindor table was none other than Jack Potter.

My brother was put into Hufflepuff, the lucky sod.

Meanwhile, I still had a problem.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh SHIT.

“Poppet,” Jack smirked, “I know your name now.”

I sighed, and took a seat next to a blonde boy with a deep voice and a creepy smile plastered across his face. I was concerned. I turned to him and the creepy smile broadened, “I’m Chris, Chris Olson,” He said, “Nice to meet you… Poppet.”

Oh. So it was my name that amused him. Great.

I was introduced to Jordan, a brown-haired boy, Connor, an ugly boy, Max, another ugly blonde one. Sam was another blondie, also, yep, you guessed it. Ugly. They all smiled at me in a weird way and I felt uncomfortable as I self consciously tucked into a chicken wing, which tasted amazing.

“Oh my god, this is so good! The chefs here must be brilliant,” I said, taking another wing and putting it on my golden plate.

“They’re house elves,” Jack said, wistfully, “The potato is amazing, have you tried it?”

I shook my head and heaped mounds of mashed potato onto my plate. I also piled on carrots, drenched in butter and garlic, more chicken wings and some chipolatas, wrapped in bacon. There was crusty bread, still warm from the oven, a variety of salads and the most amazing, mouth watering garlic butter that I had ever tasted. And then there was desert, profiteroles, smothered in a rich chocolate sauce, various pies and tarts that ranged from tangy tart au citron to sickly sweet banoffee pie. There was bowls, filled to the brim with Berty Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and honey cake that tasted like it had been created in the heavens. My goblet was filled with butterbeer, and as I took a sip, the sweet froth on the top got stuck on my top lip and I swung my tongue over it to lick it off.

When I had finished my meal, I leant back slightly and sighed, feeling fuller than I had in months.

I was greeted by six pairs of bewildered eyes, staring back at me.

“How much did you eat?” Max asked. Wow, his voice was quite the masterpiece. It was so squeaky, I bet if he tried hard enough, he could break a glass. Not to mention he looked like he’d had an accident with a chainsaw. Oh yeah, Max had so much going for him.

“I don’t know…” I said, looking down at my plate, “A lot.”

Jack scoffed, “Understatement, you fat shit!”

I opened my mouth in shock at the fact that Jack had in fact called me fat. He deserved a slap for that one.

“You’ve cleared out the whole table… Nearly…” Chris said, looking from my plate to the rest of the table. That was an exaggeration. By a long way. The table was massive. I ate a lot, but not that much.

“Not really…” I said, checking the table once more, “I saw you eat loads too,” I countered.

“I’m an active Quidditch player, I’m allowed to stuff my face,” Chris said, “I doubt you play sport, you’re a girl.”

That fucking ticked me off. I may be a girl. But apparently, I have spunk.

“You have what?”

Oh… Did I say that out loud?

“Yes, you did.”

Damn, I have to stop doing that.

“You really do.”

I glared at the group of boys. I needed to explain my current Quidditch standings.

“I play Quidditch, actually,” I said to nobody in particular.
Well, I said it to Chris, really. But where I was looking, it was to nobody.

“Oh do you now?” Jack said, raising an eyebrow, “Well, I happen to be Quidditch captain for Gryffindor, so impress me tomorrow and you have a spot on the team.”

“As if she has a broom,” Chris laughed and Max and Jordan joined in. Sam and Connor were still eating.

“I have the Jet X 69 actually,” I said. Gee, I wonder how I remembered that name.

“Seriously?” Jack said, “Beats Chris’ Nimbus 5000 any day!”

Chris frowned, “My dad is getting me a new one for my birthday,” He spat, “Actually.”

“That’s good, because Jordan was considering kicking you off the team,” Jack said, looking at Jordan who went a strange shade of red, “Because you’re practically riding a dinosaur.”

This caused me to spit my butterbeer everywhere.
Oh, the innuendos!

The boys looked at me and cocked their heads, “You said ‘riding a dinosaur’ which implied Chris was you know… sexually active with prehistoric creatures…”

Each boy gave me their own variation of a confused look and I decided it was high time I shut up and acted my age. “What do you ride, Jack?” I asked, changing the subject tactfully.

“A man’s cock in a bush,” Max chipped in and then everyone, excluding Jack, started to howl with laugher. The boys howled. Howling is for werewolves, which, dare I say, is unattractive. I giggled.

“Same as you, babe,” Jack winked and I didn’t know if that was a fail of an innuendo or he actually rode a Jet X 69. I took it as the latter.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Max said, humming ‘It Must Be Love’ by Madness and I gave him a glare, one of my special glares that I save up for awkward occasions.

Max flashed me a fake grin and I rolled my eyes, deciding it was time to go to bed. I got up off the bench and told everyone I’d be in the common room if they needed me. Chris was adamant I wouldn’t find it, but I followed some third years and entered the common room with no problem. I sat on the sofa in front of the fire and awaited the return of the boys, but since it never arrived, I made my way up to my dorm.
My trunk was under my bed and my beautiful cat was laid out on my bed, purring away. I moved her into her cage, which I put some blankets in, got into my adorable Pygmy Puff pyjamas and cuddled down under the warm duvet, ready for a good night’s sleep.

AN: Hey guys, hope you liked that! Love you all!:)

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