Story [Harry Potter] ~ Conversion? ~ Diary 2010, updated: 7/25 Chapter 5 : Your Heart's Desire - Part I

Sounds like Hogwarts won't know what hit it.

 

While I was on holidays, innocently skiing in the Harz Mountains/ Germany and painting fantasy stuff for my two nephews in East Sussex/ UK, you had a great time, lass.



After I read all your experiences in the HP world in so far, I feel like giving you a copy of my Winnie the Pooh book once it is finished. For a genius like you deserves it.



I wonder though if you hate HP books as much as you seem to dislike Boba Fett...

 

However did you get that idea, moose?
Not quite sure what is going to mess up the story worst but I am giving it thought, a lot of very, very evil thought.

I should hope so, FelsGoddess. It surely wasn't me...

I have reversed my opinion of Boba fett somewhat, azure.
Maybe it will wpork for the HP sereis, too. You never know. Right now I am still thinking it's pretty much a pain in the rear.

---

[u]Chapter 3: Sorting the Disarrayed[/u]


The gilded doors opened and I was washed in among the wave of kids rushing forwards as if there was something to be had for free. The only thing we got, though, was our first sight of Mrs. McGonagall. She looked pretty much like a catalogue witch from any mail order service with the dark green dress and the pointy hat. Her stare was pretty good though, still I would have preferred Granny Weatherwax. Oh, to see [i]that one[/i] knocking the stuffing out of Snape. They would get along like ? things that get along very well.

I tried to find Draco who had a scene with Harry now if I remembered correctly. But there was not. Instead Mrs. McGonagall welcomed us in the school, explained the house things and told us about a test to come and sort us in the houses. Then she left and worried whispering came up.

"It's just a hat," I told Harry who got obviously nervous by Ron's explanation. "Ron's brothers were just trying to frighten him. It's all easy: you sit down, the hat calls out the house and you're done."

"It cannot be that easy," Hermione objected. "How can ha hat know which house is best for us?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. "Ask it."

"And if it's not a house we want to be in?" Harry asked.

"I am sure it will see reason, or you could hex it." They stared at me. "I am joking abut the hexing," I explained. Where was Draco when you expected him to turn up? He would be a good example of how people got into the houses they wanted. Though, come to think of it, so was Ron.

Before I could start a proper lecture, a bus-load of ghosts appeared through a wall behind us. Some of the kids screamed like girls, most likely because the breaking of the voice still had to happen. There were also excited gasps and I had to admit that, coming from a completely scientific and ghost-free world, this was quite a sight. They were translucent and slightly lucid and not all of them very scary; at least not from my adult point of view.

"New Students!" a fat friar said, looking mightily pleased. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

There were a few murmurs, but nothing comprehensible. After spending several hundred years in this school, I decided the ghost ought to know and didn't deserve and answer.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff," he said, answering his own question. "My old house."

I considered going to Hufflepuff for a second. Completely ignoring if I actually belonged there or not, he was from the Middle Ages; a friar and a fat one at that. His mind was probably all kinds of dirty, which was just the kind of company I might be looking for.

Of course that left me completely vulnerable to any spite from Snape. Not that there was anything wrong with a spiteful Snape, he really looked quite good with that sneer ? okay, it was probably a Rickmann thing. That guy [i]always [/i]looked great ? it was just that I was **** eleven and therefore the improper intensifier was actually out of bounds.

If I really had to spend seven years in this school, I might as well buy into as little harassment from Snape as possible. Plus Draco was a Slytherin and he'd be such fun to annoy. I really had to get my hands on him and invite myself to Malfoy Manor.

"Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Mrs McGonagall's voice put a stop to my musings. And started a completely new string of thought as I suddenly wondered where Mr. McGonagall was and why we never saw him. Or maybe I just didn't want to know what happened to the last few people that had dared to call her 'Miss'.

We followed her into the great hall which was r

 

I have an Alan Rickman thing, too.



Ah well, my husband knows...



But this part I still loved the most:

The gilded doors opened and I was washed in among the wave of kids rushing forwards as if there was something to be had for free. The only thing we got, though, was our first sight of Mrs. McGonagall. She looked pretty much like a catalogue witch from any mail order service with the dark green dress and the pointy hat. Her stare was pretty good though, still I would have preferred Granny Weatherwax. Oh, to see that one knocking the stuffing out of Snape. They would get along like ? things that get along very well.

If Granny Weatherwax would be wondering into the HP world... or a certain luggage...

 

Missed the chapter of choclate frogs and "rowing"... oops.



he was from the Middle Ages; a friar and a fat one at that. His mind was probably all kinds of dirty, which was just the kind of company I might be looking for.

*sigh* one track mind Mel....



There was a silence while he hat sorted through my thoughts, probably seeing the dreaded image of me using the other option to get around being on the receiving side of Snape's bad temper. Obviously, he didn't like it. "Slytherin!" he called.

I jumped off the chair a happy grin on my smile and went to sit down opposite to Draco. "Now that went well."

He gave me a nasty look, but I was already distracted by Blaise who had been sorted into Slytherin, too. Now that would make a lot of things easier. Not that he looked too happy about it. I waved happily at Harry and Ron who didn't know how to react and tentative returned the waving. Draco glared and he was doing such a good job that I was tempted to wave at some Hufflepuffs too, just because.

You're going to destroy Hogwarts from the inside, aren't you?

 

Oh wow. MsLana this here is all kinds of funny. If you have a pm list please add me too it and keep up the good stuff, can't wait for another installment.

 

The gilded doors opened and I was washed in among the wave of kids rushing forwards as if there was something to be had for free.

Free stuff has that effect on everyone!

he was from the Middle Ages; a friar and a fat one at that. His mind was probably all kinds of dirty

He might be shocked if you tried to have that sort of conversation with him, seeing as you look 11.

He was doing a creepy old man impersonation, looking as if there was nothing more pleasant than first years ? probably with pepper sauce.

I'll never read that bit in the books in the same way again.

How could I ever have forgotten about this bit? Was it not in the films or something? Or were things changing already simply because I was here. I would give that some thought, but it would have to wait.

I couldn't remember that bit either, so I checked the books and it's in there.

 

Feel free to paint a Granny/Snape face down, Azure. I'll leave that crack!ship to somebody else, though. Also, there is nothing wrong with having a thing for Alan Rickmann.

You missed the row ing? I had no idea it was important, Ale.
Yes, I am. Where would be the fun if I didn't. And I plan on getting expert help.

Sure do, Fanficfan, on both accounts. Glad you like it.

Oh noes, moose, I forgot that again already.
It's in the book. I am not keeping striclty to the books or the films and just take what I like better. Why not wreak mayhem wherever I can?

---

After inhaling my first serving I stopped to look around. Social interaction would be okay to take place now. It was polite; even if I was not. Neither was the Bloody Baron who came flying low over the table, swinging his sabre. It might have been more impressive if it had actually done damage.

"Good evening, my Lord," I said. "I would appreciate if you would keep that fine sword of yours out of my head."

He whipped around, pointing the tip of the blade at my throat pointedly.

"I do have an affinity to blades of all kinds, only not if they are waved around my head. It doesn't feel safe," I just went on.

He gave ma a stern look, waving the sword around for good measure. "You would not believe the things I have done with this sword."

"I am certainly willing to try, if you were to tell the story," I assured him. "I am sure it is quite a tale."

"A tale to sad and gruesome for a merry inconsequential evening like this," he huffed.

"Quite right, my Lord," I agreed. "If there should ever come a night sad and gruesome enough to match the severity of your tale let me know."

He gave me a last dubious look and flew away to harass other pupils.

"So," I looked around, "has any of you ever spend a relevant amount of time in the muggle world?" It turned out to be a sure way to kill all conversation and earn unbelieving stares. Maybe I should have tried subtle. But I was still me and eleven again. Nobody could sensibly expect subtlety from me. Cool.

I shrugged, helping myself to some more chicken. "Since I am obviously stuck here now, I really would like to have the best of both worlds, you know." I looked around. "What is the best about being a wizard?"

Flaunting the advantages of the wizarding world was obviously a much better topic. It was up to debate, though if Quidditch was the best, magic pranks or being able to trace your bloodline back several hundred years. I listened to the arguing, trying to get a feeling for the stuck up kids I was stuck with. It looked as if I really needed to find out who my parents were, not to mention grandparents, great-grandparents and several other great-generations.

After several servings of dessert the food vanished leaving sparkly-clean plates and cutlery behind. I decided that this was one of the first spells I needed to learn. No more dish washing! Being a wizard would be all kinds of fun. I was so excited about the idea that I missed the first bits of Dumbledore's second speech. It was not as good as the first though, expect the part where one could die a horrible death somewhere on the third floor. I would keep that mind. Just in case this stopped being fun.

We all got up and followed the respective prefects to the dormitories. Though I had expected to go down into the dungeons, maybe I was just misled in that respect, I did get to see and use the moving staircase. It was Escher's dream come true, I really liked it. With the prefect leading us we did get to our destination without incidents, though. I could not wait to try this in my free time all on my own.

Our prefect, Gabriel Ididn'tgethislastnameyet, stopped before a wall. I tried to memorise what distinguished this bit of wall from all others but failed. Maybe there was a way into the dorms though the common room which I still suspected to be in the dungeons.

"Here is an entrance into the dormitories," Gabriel explained. "You tap you

 

Can´t wait to read. You suck me more and more into the story. I even start seeing people and places...

 

Somebody here in the house was old-fashioned and not up to date. I wondered what would have to happen to protect the boys dorm in a similar fashion. And I already had such nice ideas how to find it out. Old-fashion, indeed.

Great updates

 

Our prefect, Gabriel Ididn'tgethislastnameyet




Magic was so convenient, I began to understand how wizards would look down on muggles.

yeah, you can hides all sorts of stuff then!!!



So your mentallity is that you're old enough for Snape, even though physically you are not? Or did I just miss the point entirely???

 

Tell me when you start to hear vocies, Azure. I'll call a doc for you. I decided on a few interesting twitches for the story (yes the story twitches when it thinks about them) so things should stay fun.

Is it my fault if wizards are traditional in their views, FelsGoddes? I think not. Poor Draco and Blaise.

Well, put like that - good idea, Ale. Unfortunately, Snape's a rather decent guy, if a huge ToS-violation. I need somebody without scruples... like a real Deatheater. Just leaves the question if you would kill his wife for me.

---

I did manage to sleep despite the lack of a proper blanket. And I need not have wondered how you woke up in time at Hogwarts. The noise three girls make when they get up is more than adequate to wake anybody. Yawning I blinked my eyes. Yes, I was definitely still in Hogwarts. Yes, I was definitely still eleven and yes, getting up early still disagreed with me.

I got up anyway, joining the general run on the bathroom and showers. Slytherin girls from all years crowded the place and it seemed to be customary to shove around whoever was weaker than you. I kept close to Millicent because she was hard to shove.

I decided that spells against athlete's foot were very high on my to do list. As was getting a watch. I had no idea how everybody in Hogwarts always seemed to know which time it was. Magic was my best guess, I really had a lot to catch up. But then I had such a huge library to forage. I was day-dreaming about the shelves upon shelves of books when my routine was suddenly disturbed. I realised that I had nothing to shave, followed closely be the realisation there was nothing to shave, either. I inspected my armpit. Oh.

Well, at least that gave me a few years to learn a shaving spell. And while I was at it, a nail clipping spell, hair cutting spell. The image of shouting '[i]Manicuratis[/i]!' at my hands was funny. I snickered as I went to look for Filch and get a real blanket. The school uniform was unfamiliar. I liked that it took away any pressure to decide what to wear. Not that I was that fond of skirts, though. And I needed a green-and-sliver tie.

Hey, I got to wear ties! Completely official, I could get used to that. The skirt and socks were a draw-back. They made me look young, especially with my knees so uncovered. I wondered who had watched too many anime series to come up with that is, or, considering the length of the skirts, not enough of them. Groping for my shoes I realised that there actually was a tie in my cupboard already. Possibly a welcome gift for new Slytherin pupils. I took it happily, knotting it with a Double Windsor knot. Gods, I love ties.

Then I went looking for Filch. Obligingly, Murphy intervened and the caretaker was nowhere to be found. I wondered how long breakfast would be served and if duvets were worth missing it when I stumbled - metaphorically, I don't think she'd take it with good grace - over Mrs. Norris. She stared at me, was if wondering what had dragged me in, since it had most assuredly not been her.

"Hello there," I said crouching low. I counted it as a success that she didn't try to attack me. "Come here little one. Don't be afraid." I held out my hand, hoping I would not have to visit Madam Pomfrey instead of having breakfast.

"What would you be doing here?" a voice like oiled graters sounded behind me before Mrs. Norris made short work with my hand, though.

"Ah, Mister Filch," I greeted him getting up again. "I am talking to Mrs. Norris."

"Why?"

"Because was looking for you." I grinned happily. Yes, he was an ugly scugger and his voice was not improving on the impression, but he was the caretaker and I [i]would [/i]be on good terms with him.

"And why do you ask the cat?" His tone rang with suspicion and annoyance.

"Because it is your cat. If she doesn't know, who else would there be? Anyway," I took a deep breath, "I wanted to talk to you about duvets."

"Duvets?"

"Yes. On the beds here, you get a she

 

"Duvets?"

"Yes. On the beds here, you get a sheet and then woollen blankets. That may all be very fine if you like that kid of arrangement, but I am used to a duvet." I didn't add that I was actually used to a **** huge duvet. "I am new here and I wouldn't know who else to ask about the matter. So it is pretty much a 'you are my only hope'-scenario."

He gave me a hard stare, his face unreadable. "Those are not the blankets you are looking for?" He finally asked.

WT-?
"No those are not the blankets I am looking for," I repeated.

Filch nodded. "Move along." He gestured me on.

I nodded, too, still thinking WTF? "Move along, I'll just move along." And I did. I was still wondering what the hell that had just been when I arrived in the great hall. There, breakfast pushed everything else from my mind. I found real salty porridge with bacon and eggs. Did I mention that I love British food? I do.

Ha, ha! This is priceless, Lanna dear. So, instead of being a wizzard Filch is NO Squib BUT a jedi knight in disguise? A verra ugly one.

 

Probably not a Jedi in disguise, Azure, but maybe somebody who knows about them? That would be enough for me. I don't know how I could possibly survive seven years without SW. So I am not going to.

---

Since it was almost a quarter to nine already, I gave up hunting Blaise for getting my books. Turning up without books to a class was bad manners. Besides I had always liked lessons. It was fellow pupils that gave me trouble. The books were heavy and it was burdensome to lug them around. I was sure they would crush the quills and I had no chance to get proper biros for the moment. Damned. I so needed to get out of here and contact the world of the living.

I caught up with Blaise mostly because he got lost and I got the chance to trail behind him because I was even more lost and very happy when he did find the right classroom. He looked at me with annoyance when I slipped into the bench next to him.

"Sorry," I shrugged. "Promised Draco not to bother him today if he taught me a spell."

"That won't work with me," he told me and opened his book.

Looking past him, I saw Daphne sit next to him. So he was not the talkative kind, or he might have turned and talked to her. Fine. "That's okay," I assured him. "I like you anyway."

"But I don't like you," he replied without looking up.

"I can live with that." I opened my book too and browsed through it. There was a lengthy introduction and then spells, charms and their theory. It all looked interesting enough. Not quite as interesting as Professor Flitwick, though. He was short, really short, and with the white hair standing on edge on his head, he looked a bit like walking cotton candy. If it had not been for the face peeking though the white hair, he might have been cute.

As it was he looked like a gnome. Or maybe a goblin, I didn't know how things looked in this fanverse when it cam to cross-species breeding. I was [i]not [/i]going to find out. Ew! Anyway, he was so small he stood on a stack of books to look over his desk. That was - interesting seeing how he could just have chosen a smaller desk. Or a higher standing, or hovering. I mean he was a friggin wizard (thank Rincewind for me wanting to spell that with double 'z' to this very day)! Instead he perched precariously on top of some books.

That proved how dangerous it really was, when he got so excited about Harry being in class that he toppled. Harry would have quite a difficult time, if people kept reacting so strongly to him. I remembered to answer to my new name, once again wondering if the sheer ugliness of it would drive me into finding out my 'true' name some day. It was possible.

Then we started with the introduction to the book. Miranda Goshawk had taken quite some time and effort to introduce poor little first years into the secrets of charming. Not that I saw any difference to spelling (the wizarding way) hexing or magicking. But then I was just a muggle-raised **** - erm witch. I wished I could have poked Draco with my wand, he was sitting conveniently in front of me. But I had promised. Life was unfair. I did not poke Blaise either. He was actually listening and taking notes.

Out of sheer boredom I started to do the same. It was good practice, since I had never really written with a quill before. I made neat blotches all over the parchment. Not to mention that I had no idea how to keep my notes sorted, the invention of folders seemed to have passed the wizarding world by. I decided to get some [i]real [/i]school provisions.

I managed to get a seat next to Draco for Transfiguration. I eyed the cat sitting on the teacher's desk. "So, can a wizard transfigure into any animal they like?"

"Of course not," Draco almost huffed. He liked to be better than others and it was a trait I intended to exploit until he realised what I did and stopped answering my questions.

"Why?" I tried to appear stupid, but did not know how well it worked. I had not played stupid for quite a while and I did not want Draco to carry heavy things for me. Which was something I might never ha

 

CHAPTER 3: Part III

w00t!!!
(my face actually hurts from laughing... the "wt?" put me over the edge...


Wait, so do you know how to tell time yet or what? Is there a magical clock in your peripheral vision? Is it digital?




CHAPTER 3: Part IV

I'm thinking your a poorer student than you let on and that it's a miralce you finished secondary school... so easily distracted by pretty snobby boys...

ew Yes, please don't...

I do think you caught Malfoy's attention when talking about the "certain point of view"... perhaps he may be more responsive to you as time goes on and you flex your 30 something year old wisdom...

 

So it is pretty much a 'you are my only hope'-scenario."

He gave me a hard stare, his face unreadable. "Those are not the blankets you are looking for?" He finally asked.

WT-?
"No those are not the blankets I am looking for," I repeated.

Just had to comment on that, it's too funny!

 

I know how to tell the time now, Ale. The spell just makes you know, no actual visible clocks involved - that's just my messed up head doing things all on its own again.
Not my fault that so far tehre were no snob boys in my school days. And I am still not over my double morals in that regard. So no robbing the cradle. And I do hope to have his attention. Would I want to spend my time with Ron? Ew, no!

The idea came up when I joked with my friend (Kayly_Silverstorm) about the fic, moose. There was a lot more of such silly stuff and some will surely come true as the story progresses.

---

[u]Chapter 4: Mischief[/u]

When it was finally time for lunch, I had my imagination under control again. That was all the better since the teachers were having their lunch at the head table. Slash-pairing teacher was not a good idea. If I remembered correctly there was something like reading people's minds. I did not want that to happen just when my mind declared that slash-shipping Snape with any good looking guy was fine. Just think of the pictures.

I tried to trample all over those thoughts and did my best to think Faramir and Eowyn in connection with black and blonde hair mingling in the wind. Success was - about acceptable. I would have tried to drown myself in a bowl of stew, but that would just have led to awkward questions. Instead I did my best to get Draco to talk. He was almost obsessed with flying, and Quidditch and there was no stopping him once he started. Not that I wanted to. Unknown Quidditch players soaring through the sky on broom going after balls - okay, it was only a bit better.

As it was, there was more Quidditch than one could remember during one lunch time. I did my best to keep the players and teams apart as we followed Professor Kettleburn from the Greenhouses to the Quidditch pit and back through half the castle. Draco had launched into a full report of last years Quidditch World Cup, which, if you believed his stories, he had seen from the first row from the first to the last game. I didn't bother to ask what Haversacking was and how it had prevented Scotland from rightfully winning against Turkey.

Kettleburn left us at the library. Draco could not understand my excitement, but the mere idea of thousands of books - unheard of, new impossible books - was enough to make me giddy. A glance at Blaise told me he shared my affinity towards books but was better at concealing it. He was concealing everything. I think, it was quite amazing. So was Mrs. Pince. Without any decorum she told us that this was her territory and we would play according to her rules if we ever dared to come here.

Making a mental list of things you didn't do if you didn't want to annoy her was much easier than making a list of the players of a Quidditch team. Finally, we were admitted into the library proper. The books were - they were the most bookish I had ever experienced. I knew how it felt to stand in the middle of a library including one and a half floors of a huge university building. How the presence of thousand of bound volumes seemed to stretch reality thing and make everything possible. I knew how it felt to stand, admittedly awestruck, among he books of Westminster Abbey Library, the huge volumes taller than me, some of them indeed chained into the shelves with wooden bars.

This was different. This was more. The scent of parchment and ink was penetrating everything, as if I [i]lived [/i]inside a well-aged copy of a Bantam book. Coming to think of that, I might. I had no idea which company published the Potter books in the States. I inhaled deeply and stared at the shelves, ignoring the look Mrs. Pince gave me. There were [i]books[/i]! Counting in my head, that were three addictions taken care of: books, tea and chocolate. The rest could wait.

Almost bouncing I waited for the formalities to be over. The rest of the first years almost fled the place as soon as they could, leaving pretty much me - and Hermione. I grinned at her. "So many books,"

 

Your interaction with Hermione was intersting...

I just think you're a trouble maker... may the force be with you...

*snort* indeed!

 

I made a note to look for the Room of Requirement. Again.



Finally, I was allowed to take my precious prey away.

Ahh, books, the most precious of preys.

Oh, and there must be more Hermione! Hermione is awesome.

 

At the entrance of the dungeons Filch was waiting, staring at me from under his mop of greasy hair.

"Your problem is solved," he announced.

"Thank you, sir." I grinned up at him happily. "That is very kind of you, though I will make sure not to flaunt the fact and ruin your reputation."

He snorted something under his breath. Most likely including the demand to never bother him with something like that again. Not that there was any chance of that happening, should I encounter any other problems. Not that I could think of any right now, but sooner or later the wizarding world was bound to pose silly problems no muggle would ever encounter.

"May the Force be with you," I called after him.


I guess, dear Lanna, the Force was with you when you wrote this up-date. Delicious, hillarious.

 

It might just have been Voldemort hiding under his turban, too, not willing to discredit Dark Arts too much.

Great updates

 

I like Hermione, Ale. She's a geek. I think me might get along well, provided she doesn't fall for the 'all Slytherins are ToS-violantions' spiel.
Am not. I will be a role model pupil - when people watch.

Well, yes moose, that is exactly what I am looking for. I don't think any other place could provide me with a footnoterphone.
More books and more Hermione. Duly noted.

I don't ant to be the only SW geek in my story, Azure. He looked like a likely candidate. Now I just have to convince him to host SW marathons, visit cons with me and help to avert the PT.

I think it likely, FelsGoddes. Not that I really know what to do about it yet. Maybe I'll start with calling Voldy names around Quirrel and see what happens.

---

Since I was not able to start on the amazing life ant feats of Uric the Oddball, I contented myself wondering if I could learn how to turn my hat into a jellyfish after some general transfiguration training and if there were repercussions for doing so. Maybe that wouldn't matter in the end. The prospect of strutting into the main hall with a jellyfish on my head was entertaining. Tor now I just strutted - right into a well filled hall.

Everybody was sitting neatly sorted to their respective house tables. It was disgusting. The food was not, and that came first. It was amazing that there were not more obese pupils at Hogwarts. Or, considering latest findings on eating habits and their origins it just might not. I sat down next to Draco who was chatting with Crabbe and Goyle who still lacked first names. I was such a slacker.

"So," I asked as I helped myself to a liberal amount of vegetables and chicken, "how do you keep up with the outside wolf form here?"

"My father will send the [i]Daily Prophet[/i]," Draco said, sounding not very happy about it. "But at least he cannot make me read it here." In decided to take this as my very personal newspaper service. If it worked, I might send Mr. Malfoy a not of thanks, though that depended on whether I managed to make it also annoying. "And my mum has promised to send [i]Quintessential Quidditch[/i] each week." It was not really surprising that he looked forward to that more than the news.

With a sudden I realised that I would not get any owls for the future. Not that I wanted Uhu to drop Bumblebee into my breakfast regularly, but that had really been the only post I could expect. I stashed away some food for the little critter, provided he returned. Transfigurations with McGonagall in cat form had turned him into the fastest rat in all Hogwarts. Maybe he had run into Mrs. Norris instead. Poor thing.

"can you get leave to watch the games?" I asked Draco, trying to bottle up the creeping sadness. "We're not even allowed to leave for Hogsmeade for two years."

"No," he grumbled. While Draco ranted against this unfairness, I gobbled down my supper, grabbing a second serving of veggies. "My father took me to see all the important games of the Falmouth Falcons," he finished his tirade decidedly unhappy.

"Maybe he should become headmaster then," I mumbled. Though Lucius Malfoy sitting in the headmaster's office was all kinds of warring adjectives in my mind.

Draco was actually considering the idea for a moment and then went on to explain how his father war too important at doing what he did to be headmaster here. Though her would, naturally, do a better job than Dumbledore any day.

The Malfoy-Malfoy assessment was fun to listen to. There was a good amount of hero worship covering up expectable misgivings and frustrations of an only child. He sounded rather spoilt, protected and not aware of the fact that note everybody lived the same way. And what was more, his awareness that this was not their fault was rudimentary to non-existent. Rich kids, I knew why I had avoided them.

"Best father ever, huh," I half snorted in reply.

"Of course," Draco seemed immune to sarcasm. "Nobody can hold a candle to him, not even you

 

There was really not much to be done and I did have to get up early again the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Gah, I hated school again already. But at least I had duvets now.

Yeah, duvets, finally. Good for you!



You also seem on a peace maker mission there, befriending the houses.

 

Peace, Azure? Only from a certain point of view.

---

My personal three-girl alarm worked perfectly again the next morning. I was a bit loth to part with my newly acquired duvets, but since they were not likely to vanish again I had no real reason to linger.

At breakfast I secured a seat between Pansy and Blaise just opposite of Draco. I found porridge with raisins and liberated a liberal amount of it. "Is there any tea around?" I asked, scanning the table. There were offers of pumkin juice, but I declined politely. It might be all the rage in the wizarding world, but I had not yet acquired a taste for it. Nor would I ever, if I had a say in it.

"Bother." I started shovelling porridge into my face. "And how about my chances to encounter cola?"

There were more uncomprehending looks. "That's muggle stuff, isn't it?" Draco finally asked.

"Sure is, " I nodded. "And a great invention in the realms of caffeine. And certainly very useful for staying awake through the History class." Out of nowhere a cup appeared beside my plate. I raised it suspiciously, but it held only tea. Black, tea, a very strong English breakfast blend that left scratches down my throat as a tentative test showed. I was decidedly happy.

"House elves or house magic?" I wanted to know.

"House elves," Draco replied promptly. "Only they would be so slow."

I felt the urge to rib him, but found myself in a very inconvenient position to do so. "Thank you house elves," I said instead, taking another sip. Then I almost spit it across the table when something dug sharply into my ankle. Ferocious scratching ensued and I found an annoyed looking Bumblebee staring up at me accusingly.

"Hello down there," I greeted the wayward rat. Then I bent to pick the black miscreant up which he allowed graciously. Appeased with some of my breakfast, he even stayed seated in my lap. I was so busy finding out what my fastidious pet deigned to eat that I missed the arrival of the owls. Not that I expected anything myself.

A small parcel dropped neatly into Draco's hand. He set aside the [i]Daily Prophet[/i] without a second glance and turned his attention towards the assorted sweets his mother had sent. Suppressing a mix of envy and exasperation I reached for the newspaper. "Can I borrow that?"

Draco just nodded, his mind on other things. He looked rather cute, but I refrained from pinching his cheeks in public. I turned my attention to the paper instead. I tried. I really did, but nothing I read made much sense to me. I knew (most of) the words, but whatever the Aurors had done, I was not sure if they were praised or attacked for it. The cartoon moved and made funny gestures but no sense. The only interesting bit was a sentence stating probably surprised that even in this modern time there seemed to be no way around Luthor Saltion in the ministry and politics.

I wondered if Saltion might be some kind of Ackermann of the wizarding world. That would make him a goblin here. I snickered and let crossover craziness run wild, turning all bankers into goblins. Then I retuned the [i]Daily Prophet[/i] to Draco. It was actually lousy reading for a child. I considered sending Mr. Malfoy a list of book suggestions adequate for a boy in Draco's age.

History was even worse than I had expected. Professor Binns was not only a ghost, he was all over deadly boring with a voice so boring it didn't even put you to sleep. It was a real challenge to try and follow his ramblings and prying some information for it. His voice made your head feel as if it was slowly filled up with dust. The times in which Hogwarts had been founded might have been fun, bloody and dangerous, but he made you feel as if the ancestors would have considered being dead a very exciting change of things.

Actually, he managed to make the class feel as if being dead would a very exciting change of things, too. Only Hermione stayed alert and took copious note the whole time. I wondered if she was really taking them for this class, or if she was working on something for another class already. Or

 

Abracadabra and scare everybody to death. The similarity to the death curse was uncanny and my innee linguist decided to go off and do research. Uncanny indeed.

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