A/N: Okay, so a few people seem to be confused as to what's going on, so I'm going to go ahead and clarify a few things. Samantha (the OC) is a transfer student from Andromeda's All-Girls Preparatory - a school you'll learn more about in the next chapter. She's going into her seventh year at Hogwarts, and she transferred because her other school was, well... you'll see by the fourth chapter. Anyway, I think the rest should be clear enough in the story, so... vini vidi vici. (That made no sense.)
Ages. This blasted car's taking ruddy ages.
Samantha White knew her patience was sorely waning, dwindling further and further with each trying second. She crossed her arms in a rather poor attempt to control her skittish fidgeting, but within moments her foot began tapping incessantly.
Merlin, exactly how far away is this place? It's been what, a few decades since we left?
She sighed irritably, not particularly pleased by being imprisoned in the rather curious looking method of transportation she'd come to know as a car. Sure, she knew London was quite a ways away from her distant home in southern England, but that didn't prepare her easily tried patience for being strapped into a car for four hours.
Her snappy mood wasn't exactly appeased by the idea of arriving late to her destination, either. Not on my bloody first day.
Sighing crossly, she shifted uncomfortably in the leather seat, tugging irritably at the strange strap pinning her down. These are bloody well fit for Azkaban, she thought, grimacing down at her "seat belt", as her mother had called it. Such a creative name, too, must've taken centuries to dream up...
"Remind me again why we couldn't just apparate?" she called somewhat childishly for what must have been the seventy-fifth time to the front seat of the sleek, ebony muggle car they were currently situated in. Her middle-aged mother sighed exaperatedly upon hearing the question yet again, blowing a strand of slightly graying black hair out of her sharp-featured face.
"Because, Samantha, for the hundreth ruddy time, Shelby's much too young for that," she replied somewhat crossly, briefly smiling fondly at the nightmare in pigtails bouncing happily next to her. The moronic blonde responded with a small, satanic smile of her own, innocence enshrouding her devilish eyes.
That guiltless act is pathetic, Samantha thought aggravatedly, plastering a fake, mocking smile on her face as Shelby sent her a murderous look of contempt.
"Besides," her mother chirped cheerily as Shelby scoffed and swiveled about, making a wry, satisfied smirk spread across Samantha's lips, "it's such a lovely day out. We'd miss it entirely if we just apparated."
Samantha scoffed derisively. "So it's either miss the train if we don't apparate, or miss the stupid day if we do. I'm glad to see our priorities are in such splendid order."
Her mother exhaled crossly at her daughter's sarcasm, meeting her blazing blue eyes through the rectangular rear-view mirror with a reproving expression. "Can we drop the cyncism for five minutes, please? Besides, once again, Shelby's too young to apparate—"
"But what abou—"
"—or side-long apparate, it's a terrible experience," she finished sternly before Samantha could voice her indignant protest, silencing her with a carefully raised brow.
Sighing in annoyed defeat, Samantha slid back into the constricting seat, letting her head sink into the thick, leather fabric with a muffled thud. She briefly glanced out the thick glass of the window, flinching as the brilliant sunlight met her unadjusted eyes. Blinding isn't exactly my idea of lovely, in all honesty.
She averted her eyes quickly, exhaling grumpily as varying splotches of white swam across her vision. She was quite accostumed to disagreeing with the average person about what classified a beautiful day, for she'd always preferred the cool, dreary feeling of impending rain. Like most people, she found the rain to have soothing qualities, yet what appealed to her the most was how oddly exhilarating it was to her.
It gave her a certain adrenaline rush she couldn't quite explain. Like whenever she was playing a rough, physically trying match of soccer, or if she was simply in the most lethargic, disgustingly lazy mood, the invigorating sensation of icy rain against her skin instantly filled her with buzzing electricity. I wish it was raining no—
A jubilant shriek pierced through her muddled thoughts, sending a throbbing pang through her head. She scowled pointedly, sweeping her gaze over to the blonde haired terror hopping about excitedly, staring at Samantha with eyes full of fiery maliciousness.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sammy, did I scare you?" she cooed innocently, pouting her lips into a guitless look of pity.
"No, not particularly, Shelbs, believe it or not I'm used to your face," she responded dismissively, not the least bit interested in quarelling with the idiotic twit yet again.
"Ha, ha," Shelby retorted rather dimly, rolling her round eyes briefly before swiveling about in a huff.
Such a brilliant addition to the family, that one, Samantha thought sarcastically, staring at the rather ridiculous-looking girl with predominant disdain.
Shelby, Samantha's pink clad step-sister, was a twelve year old version of hell, at least in Samantha's opinion. She was sickeningly spoiled, obnoxious beyond belief, painfully loud—as was previously exemplified—and in essence, Samantha's polar opposite.
She had short, curly blonde hair that had seen so many dyes and curling irons in its short lifetime that it was rather brassy and unappealing, while Samantha had straight black locks flowing down to her waist that possessed a luminous shine from lack of exposure to hot tools and products.
Shelby's eyes were a dull brown, at least in their natural state, for now they were concealed under baby blue colored contacts, while Samantha's were a rather remarkable turquoise that seemed to correspond accordingly with her mood.
Shelby was a lump of a girl, short and somewhat pudgy with an upturned nose and squat features, while Samantha stood rather tall at five foot eight, with a slim, athletic build from many years of intense soccer, and had rather sharp features that gave her a certain intensity.
The only thing the two shared, besides a strong hate for one another, was stubbornness without relent. They openly spoke their minds whenever they felt the need to be heard, though in Shelby's case, it was more often for attention than for the justification of an opinion.
Though they both had rather snappy attitudes, Shelby relied on immature name calling and pure snootiness while Samantha rested better with shrewd sarcasm. In the end, it was usually some scathing, hair-curling remark from Samantha that would effectively outsmart Shelby, though the whiny pre-teen never lost silently. She would whine and scream rather dim-witted insults over her shoulder as she pitched a fit, while Samantha would simply smirk darkly at her obvious triumph.
Bottom line: the two girls weren't exactly best friends.
Samantha lazily blew an obstructing strand of glossy black out of her eyes, wriggling against the imprisoning seat belt that she swore was trying to eat her in some way, shape, or form. "Remind me again why it had to come with us?"
She glanced at Shelby indicatively, who smiled sweetly—and rather demonically— at her mother before turning around and sticking her tongue out at Samantha. Maturity personified, she is...
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Samantha, your sister—"
"Step-sister," Samantha snapped indignantly, nauseated by the idea of actually being related to the snotty monster.
"Step-sister, then," her mother corrected snappishly, "is not an 'it'! And she came with us because she loves you and wants to see you off on your big day." She nodded firmly after a moment, as if to try and convince herself that that wasn't complete rubbish. Shelby grinned wickedly from beside her, her chubby cheeks glowing with an all-too angelic expression.
Samantha grimaced. "That's touching, it really is, but Shelbs, next time you want to make me happy, just jump into the nearest body of water and don't come up." She smirked wickedly at the angry expression that overcame Shelby's face, contorting it to make it look even more pig-like than usual, before groaning tortuously as she heard her mother's outraged scolding.
"Samantha Gabrielle White!" The full name technique, how boringly cliché. "I cannot believe you would even joke about a loved one—" Hah, loved one… "—in such a vulgar way! You've really sunken to a new…" and the rest went unknown, for Samantha had finally spotted King's Cross Station in the distance and the welcome feeling of relief overcame her restlessness. Thank the god of something or other!
She sighed in relief and hastily agreed to whatever it was her mother was saying, apologizing distractedly and mumbling a few 'nope, never again's just to ensure she wouldn't end up on the wrong foot with her mother before leaving her for a year. As for Shelby, I can only pray she takes my pool advice. Stupid little prat…
The car came to a rather ungraceful stop in front of the station, seeing as her mother had floored the brakes thinking it was right in all of her inexperience with cars. Samantha threw the car door open hastily, lunging herself toward the freedom of the outdoors—except that her seatbelt was a bit reluctant of letting her do so, since she'd forgotten she'd had it on.
She cursed loudly, though thankfully quietly enough to not be heard by her mother, who was twiddling with Samantha's trunks in the back of the car. She heard a wicked snicker sound from around her and looked up angrily, ready to lash out at Shelby, only to find her staring out the window with her mouth hanging slightly open, apparently entranced.
Samantha wrinkled her nose in confusion, a habit she'd developed from the young age of four, before glancing out of her own window to find the source of both the laughter and Shelby's fascination. Her eyes widened slightly before narrowing coldly at the boy standing a few feet a way from her.
He looked about her age, with slightly long, silky black hair that fell over his eyes, achieving a look of sophistication and elegance that his dark, mischievous eyes complemented well. He was olive-skinned with a smooth complexion and muscular body, athletic, no doubt.
One could easily describe him as devilishly handsome, as he looked the part with the black shirt and jeans, and of course the wicked grin that told you he was up to something—undoubtedly no good. At the moment he was staring at Samantha with a charmingly sly smirk that was really hitting a nerve, especially since it was one she often used herself.
Her glare hardened. "I'm glad you found that so entertaining, Mr.—?"
"Black," the boy said smoothly, the same irritating smirk still playing at his lips. "Sirius Black."
"Right, Mr. Black," she stated dryly, azure eyes darkening, "but if you don't mind, I have more important things to do than amusing rude gits like you."
The wry, twisted smirk faltered slightly, and a wave of slight surprise washed over his sparkling grey eyes. He peered at her closely for a minute, as if she was some sort of exotic species, and her skin prickled with irritation. "Last time I checked, I wasn't a zoo exhibit."
His brow furrowed slightly with confusion, though his wicked smirk slowly resurfaced on his lips. "And you are, love?" he asked, the puzzled grin morphing itself into a suggestive sort of half-smile. What, is he trying to charm me now? Sleazy git...
"Most definitely not interested," she replied curtly, looking away with a disgruntled grimace and gathering the book strewn upon the car seat. She thought that a good, classic novel would be the perfect way to pass the ungodly span of the trip, but lo and behold—car sickness came into play.
Rolling her eyes irritably, she stashed the book into her large canvas bag, mentally cursing all things automobile-related. She glanced back out of the window, thinking the boy would surely be gone, only to encounter the same, stormy grey eyes eyeing her curiously. They truly were a rather haunting shade of charcoal, and for a moment her scowl seemed to soften slightly.
Something about their turbulent hue was disconcerting, for they seemed somewhat fathomless at that moment.
She found herself caught in the intensity of the gaze for only a second before shaking her head slightly, bringing herself back to her senses. This guy's really starting to get on my nerves, and I have to get a move on, she thought crossly as she threw the already slightly ajar car door wide open and made to get out—
...only to be thrown back into the seat yet again by her still buckled seat belt.
A bark of laughter erupted from the boy as Samantha threw her head back against the seat, letting out a frustrated half-groan, half-sigh as she unfastened the assailing strap. She tumbled out of the car gruffly, slamming the door shut forcefully and wheeling around to see the boy, Sirius Black, doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach.
She threw him a searing look of bristling anger, her slight embarrasment only fueling her volatile temper, and turned her back to him coldly as she stalked toward her mother to help unload her trunk.
Another particularly strident cry of laughter pierced the air, making her cast yet another scathing glare over her shoulder at the boy, who continued laughing uproariously in her less-than-amused face.
"Oh, sod the hell off, would you?" she called angrily, her teeth gnashing together slightly as he continued to find such entertainment at her expense.
He slowly contained his laughter, staightening up with the same, nerve-testing smirk enveloping his lips. His eyes flashed with mirth as hers flashed with anger, and the two rivaling emotions intensified the moment dramatically.
For a moment, the bustling of the crowd was mute in Samantha's ears, and the various announcements on the intercoms vanished. All that existed was the insanely aggravating boy before her, her frustration and his amusement fusing together into some sort of strange attraction that slightly entranced both of them involuntarily.
The intensity of his mocking eyes seemed to be testing her, taunting her with challenge, but she refused to back down by averting her stare. If there was something she greatly thrived off of, it was any sort of challenge. Her blazing determination must've shone through her glare, for his smirk widened ever so slightly, making her eyes narrow further.
Just as she was sure he was about to accept defeat and look away, the beautiful chimes of Big Ben forced their way through Samantha's temporarily deafened ears, and she realized after the eighth and final chime that she had exactly five minutes to find platform 9 ¾ and board the Hogwarts Express.
Oddly enough, the sounds of the aged London landmark seemed to grab the boy's attention as well, for his head snapped up after the eighth chime, and after a moment he sauntered off in some general direction.
She smirked as she watched the boy disappear in the jumble of the crowd, his handsome face swallowed by the swarm of people. Glad that's dead and gone, she thought irritably as she strolled over to her worried-looking mother, who was twittering about in frenzy over something or other.
Dead and gone…
Author's Note: Alright, so I know Samantha may come across as a little intense at first, but I'm just a sucker for sarcasm and wit - what's the fun in 'niceness,' really? I'd really like to know what you all think, and favorite quotes would be scrumptious :o)