Insight (Book #1)

written by Lilia Le Fay

Saoirse Evans has come to Hogwarts - six years late. Withdrawn and reticent, the Irish Girls vows to herself that she will brave the next two years of education alone. But as soon as she steps onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, it's clear her vision of solace is not to be. Heading to Hogwarts she meets Peggy Glenn, an American Witch still searching for her identity and dreaming of romance; Lena Fairweather, a secretly soft-hearted girl despite the hard act brought about an unspoken happening that damaged her the year before; Kate Fields, an eccentric outcast with blunt manners who is obsessed with all things weird, wonderful and related to The Beatles; and Claire Dashwood, a comforter to her friends with a calm and collected nature but the uncertainty of finding her family following her wherever she goes. Soon, the five girls find themselves friends, though there are many hurdles along the way. Secrets come out, romance blossoms and there is a war coming. And this time it's not a petty school fight between Gryffindors and Slytherins. The threat of Lord Voldemort is looming, Dark Supporters are becoming stronger by the second and the world outside Hogwarts isn't safe anymore. And the innocently unaware sixth years, as they find their friendship, will be changed forever. -------------------------------- Insight is updated weekly with the addition of two new chapters every 7 days. Written by Lilia Le Fay & Jamie Pevensie

Last Updated

05/31/21

Chapters

26

Reads

1,304

Chapter Fourteen - Peggy

Chapter 17

Chapter Fourteen - Peggy.



I'm in Herbology class with Laura, trying to clean bubotuber pus off of my uniform. After an incident yesterday involving a long skirt, heeled boots, and the missing step on the third floor staircase, I have a surprising new affinity for the school uniform- vest, tie, and all. 
"This is so annoying," Laura says between clenched teeth as she pounds her silver knife into a hard-shelled tuber. 
"I know," I moan, taking another cracked-open pod and beginning to scoop the gooey green pus into a pail by my side. The tiny scoop that I'm using barely fits into my hand, and the difficult labor of scraping every drop of nasty-smelling pus out of its pod is making me sweat. Combined with the humidity that's making my hair frizz, I'm a dirty, smelly mess. 

"Peggy!" I hear an enthusiastic voice behind me, and turn to see Zinia, her newly cropped blonde bob swinging around her ears, running over to me with her dainty Mary-Jane shoes pounding the packed dirt floor of the greenhouse.
"Hi Zinia," I respond, sighing. Zinia has kind of latched onto me, and she tags along wherever I go, talking to me eagerly and running little errands. Kate calls her my slave, which I thoroughly object to. She's a bit of a courier, it's true, but she does things for me as favors, and I'll return those favors soon enough.

"I have a note for you," the little girl says, grinning. She reaches into her schoolbag and produces six Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrappers and a slightly crumpled Arctic Monkeys concert poster before handing me a square of folded paper. I assume that it's from Saoirse, so I slip it into the pocket of my skirt to read after class. 
"Thanks, Zym." I slide two sticks of Drooble's out of the lining of my tie and palm them over to her without Laura seeing. Zinia loves anything chewy, she's actually a bit of a gum addict, so all I have to do is drop a few Knuts on a package of it from Honeyduke's and then I can give it to her piece by piece in return for delivering my notes and other such nonsense.

"Miss Hayes, shouldn't you be in Ancient Runes?" Professor Sprout turns to see Zinia watching me clean out a pus-pod. 
"Yes, Professor. I'm going now!" Zinia blows a rubbery blue bubble the size of a cantaloupe and sends it up to the ceiling of the greenhouse as she dashes out. 
Above us, the bubbles begin to multiply, some the size of grapes, some as big as yoga balls. Laura lifts her silver knife, which is dripping corrosive goo, and pops a particularly massive bubble. Unfortunately, the bubble explodes, sending pus showering across the Hufflepuff sixth-year class. A large droplet lands on the collar of my shirt, and I frantically swipe it away with my napkin. The nasty bubotuber pus makes instant nasty, painful yellow boils on contact with skin, and I do not want to be all bubbly on my next date with Sirius.

Professor Sprout shakes her head. "Class dismissed. If you've been in skin contact with the pus, please go to the Hospital Wing for a dose of Burn and Boil Balm."
I exit the greenhouse and open my note, already forming a sarcastic and snarky comment to write back to Saoirse telling her exactly what I think of her and her preening and swanning about. The note, however, is not from her after all.

Dear Peggy,
Please meet me under the big oak tree by the lake after your Herbology lesson. I was going to ask you to cut class with me and the boys, but figured you'd rather spend time with your friends.
Love, Sirius

I press the parchment to my chest, a feeling of contented delight washing over me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Sirius loves me. Sirius loves ME! A tiny squeal escapes my lips. 
Quickly, I produce a handkerchief from inside my blouse and rub the combination of dirt, sweat, and bubble gum off of my face. I run my fingers through my hair before manhandling it into a thick braid with a few strands hanging out. I pop a Peppermint Humbug into my mouth, dab on some shiny pink lip-balm, and straighten my tie- then I walk over to the oak tree by the lake.

Someone steps out of the shadows and into my line of vision. I'm ready to see Sirius, with his long hair and easy smile, ready to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, ready for him to scoop me up and knock me off my feet.
What I'm thoroughly unprepared for is James Potter, his wannabe-Beatles glasses glinting in the fading light, his Gryffindor scarf (Sirius is currently missing one, as I wear it to all of his Quidditch games) swinging softly in the evening breeze.

"Where's Sirius?" My question is simple enough, but my voice cracks on the second word, and I feel myself blush. I've been doing that a lot lately, and it's really, incredibly embarrassing. "He was supposed to meet me here.
James smirks and adjusts his scarf. This boy is not only annoying, but he primps and preens as much as Saoirse does. "Margaret, Sirius isn't coming. He didn't write that note at all. He has no idea I'm here."
I roll my eyes and pull at the hem of my shirt. "If you're another one here to tell me that I shouldn't be with Sirius, you can just sod off, alright?"

James quirks his eyebrows at me, a little amused. "Trust me, I have no interest in meddling in your love life."
I fold my arms. "Then why did you bring me here?" I'm going to have to ask Zinia about this later. She always tells me who my notes are from. 
"I wanted to tell you something. Irish Gal isn't trying to kill your buzz just for her own personal entertainment, you know.''
Raising an eyebrow, I take a seat on one of the stone benches near the edge of the lake. "Oh? What does this have to do with you?"
James blushes a little. "Nothing, nothing. Just...she doesn't want you to know what I'm about to tell you."

I can't help it, he's piqued my interest. Saoirse's one of the most reticent people I know, and for her to share a secret with James about me is kind of incredible. "Yes?"
"She's not trying to ruin your life, or to split you off from the person you 'love'-" he makes air quotes around the word 'love'-"she doesn't want to see you upset. She says that she's been hurt too many times because of people she thought she could trust. That she doesn't want that to happen to you." He lowers his voice. "She didn't say this, but I can tell that she misses being friends with you. It's kind of sad, really."
"Sad?" I cross my legs at the ankle and lean forward, intrigued. 
"She just mopes around the common room, picking fights and dissing everyone. Her only friend in our house is that Gypsy girl, Sissy or whatever her name is. If you ask me, that Gypsy is just trying to find someone who she can latch onto. I've seen her before- she's a parasite."

"She has Kate, and Lena, and Claire and Alex," I point out, feeling a little hopeful nonetheless. "They're really close to her." 
What I don't tell James is that while Lena and Kate have been quick to forgive me, and Alex never liked me anyway, but Claire still has yet to even acknowledge me with more than a disparaging glance. She tries to seem so above it all, but really I don't know what she has against me. I didn't say anything rude to her, I didn't argue with her or even ignore her. 
"She has them, true enough. However, that Kate girl is a bit out of her own head. Her bulb's burning out, if you get my drift. Lena and Claire are kind of scary serious, and I don't know that she gets on well with that Alex kid."
"What's the point of all this?" My stomach grumbles, thinking of the delicious steak and kidney pie I'm missing in the Great Hall this very second. 

"My point is, she needs you to even her out. She's a bit of a cloudy day, but you bring her some sunshine- much-needed sunshine, mind you. You cheer her up and make her laugh. You're frivolous and flighty, not to be rude of course, but she needs someone unpredictable in her life who isn't liable to be carted off to the nuthouse or to Azkaban."
"Azkaban?" My mind automatically pulls up a roundabout of our friends. Claire's more likely to be Minister of Magic than to go to prison. Kate could very well be sent to the mental ward of St. Mungo's at any time, but she isn't criminal. Sisa's rude, arrogant, and downright sycophantic, but she's not done anything illegal that I can think of. 

James smirks again. "Oh, didn't you know? Your friend Lena- well, I suppose I'd best let her tell you. Just don't get on her bad side, that's all I'm saying."
"Why are you telling me all of this? Why do you care so much about my relationship with that conceited, self-righteous Irish brat that thinks she's so much better than everyone?" I bite my lip after the insult slips out. Way to sound bitter.
"No reason." James answers smoothly, still smirking in his lopsided fashion.
"Do you have a crush on her or something?" The question slips out before I can help it. 

"What? Me, have a crush on that self-obsessed, haughty snob without a caring bone in her body?" James laughs, raising his eyebrows in amused disbelief. "I may as well have a crush on a marble statue for all the good it would do me. Heck, a marble statue would at least show more love and emotion than that-" He pauses, then looks at me, ending his rant and keeping up his arrogant demeanour. "I have to go. Just remember what I said, Margaret." He turns on his heel and heads up to the castle, leaving me mystified. 




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