Okay, well, I'm trying my hand at a Winx Club fanfic. Hopefully this won't suck as bad as it can.

Note: This story may or may not give out some bad puns and/or humor. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Winx Club still remains to Iginio Straffi, the rest of us all don't, and I am still sick with my cold. :'(

Prologue: The Punishment

'Quick, run fast Emma, be quick!' I thought to myself as I raced down the halls of Alfea School for Fairies. I was so close to being late, and frankly, I did not want to be late like I had been every other day of the week. I wanted to finish off the first week of school with a good, on-time Friday.

I turned the last corner, glancing down at my watch as I did so. Fifteen seconds left. I ran as fast as I could, trying to get to the door at the very end of the hall. Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...

Suddenly, being the klutz I was, I tripped over one of the laces that had come undone in my brown converse sneakers, and I went flying onto the floor. I held out my hand and yelled, "NOOOO!" as the teacher grabbed the door handle and pulled the open door closed, not even giving a glance my way (the teacher must have either hated me or had a severe hearing problem, because I yelled quite loudly.) . I sighed and picked myself up, grabbing the papers that had fallen out of my bag. I walked over to the corner and stood by it sadly, knowing Ms. Griselda would be coming down the hall soon on her rounds to make sure no students were skipping class or late.

Sure enough, the strict teacher came around the corner incredibly soon, her glasses glinting in the sunlight coming through the window as she observed me with no surprise.

"Late again, are we, Miss Blake?" she asked. I sighed again and nodded, and instead of opening a hole in the wall to the classroom like she usually would, she grabbed my arm and started towing me the completely opposite direction.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" I protested automatically from surprise.

Ms. Griselda shot me a short glance before saying, "I'm taking you to the Headmistress' office."

"Why?" I asked.

"You've been late to classes this entire week. Headmistress Faragonda will now choose your punishment for being so."

"I can't help it! I try to get there on time, I really do, but for some reason I never can! It's like there's a force field around wherever I'm trying to go, and as soon as I hit it a little note goes off saying, 'Oh no, Emma's gonna be on time, better stop her!'," I said.

"No excuses, Miss Blake," said promptly. "Now be quiet."

"But-"

"Be quiet." I clamped my jaws together tightly to keep from speaking again as Ms. Griselda towed me through the entire school to get to Headmistress' Faragonda's office.

.:;*;:.

"So, Miss Blake, I see you have been late to every class this week? Even lunch?" Ms. Faragona peered at me over the report featuring yours truly.

I nodded silently, still not wanting to try my voice, just in case I started rambling again, and made Ms. Griselda ticked once more. That lady was freakishly scary.

"Why has this happened?" she asked.

I shot a look at Ms. Griselda, trying to figure out whether she would turn me into a toad or not for saying what I had before. She sighed and answered, "Go ahead."

"Well, you see, Headmistress..." I told her the bit about the force field. She chuckled a bit, and I took this for a good thing, a sign that my punishment would be light. Teachers don't give you harsh punishments if you make them laugh, correct?

Apparently not, as Headmistress Faragonda said, "Well, the way that I see it, the best option for the correct punishment would be for Ms. Griselda to serve it out, as that is her department."

Well, the dreams of making a teacher laugh flew out of the window just as quickly as it flew in. Ms. Griselda wouldn't laugh if a tickle-machine touched her in every ticklish spot known to man.

"Excellent idea, Headmistress." I swore Ms. Griselda's eyes turned red. "Emma Destiny Blake, it is your, how shall we say it, destiny to have the punishment of cleaning the restrooms at Red Fountain." She chuckled at her own joke.

I was very wrong, it seemed. She would laugh if it was something to do with a punishment or a bad pun. I had thought she was just strict, but apparently she was just plain sick. Who laughs at another person's torture? Not a normal one, I can tell you that!

"Oh. Oh geez. I won't have to clean it while they're, ya know, doin' their business, will I?" I asked, scared out of my shorts.

"Yes, yes you will."

I hate my life.

Well, hopefully you enjoyed this short beginning. How sick is Ms. Griselda? I actually got the restrooms' bit idea from Sydney White. Emma's last name actually came pretty close to being Sydney, and that was before I came up with this idea of the restrooms' punishment.

If this sucks, please tell me so. I can endure flames, but constructive critism is more welcomed.

Well, peace out!

Micki