Okay, so I've updated these chapters, having edited out a few, blackhole-esque plotholes. And like the nincompoop I am, I forgot to copy paste the author's notes. So all my lovely words of wisdom have been deleted. Ah, well. You can now appreciate the story without my snide endnotes!

Messing Up 101

Story Summary

Sylvie Reece: Your average bigoted Slytherin (or so she tells herself) is faced with a dilemma of epic proportions: James Potter the Second has issued a challenge and she's not going to be the one to back down. "So….how am I going to get on the Quidditch Team again?"

Chapter One: It doesn't pay to be good.

Where the crapola is the powdered shroomberry?

Why can I never find anything when I need it? I mean, what if my potion explodes or something while I'm looking for this seemingly non-existent ingredient? What if it spreads across the dungeon floor in an acidic pool of doom and burns holes through my sexy new shoes? What will I do then, huh? What will I have to live for?

My hand knocks against someone else's and I look up to apologize.

Oh Merlin.

It's that Gryffindor bloke Daniel Thomas.

Dan is totally fit, even though he is technically from my rival house.

But then again, when has that ever stopped me?

I mean I was totally dating Seamus Finnigan(II) last year (Okay, maybe not dating, but we did go to Hogsmeade together that one time. Except we couldn't tell anyone because even though Seamus is apparently a Gryffindork, he lacks somewhat in the balls department. Anyway, we spent the whole time time hiding in the Hog's Head and I smelt like goats for a week after) and then there was that whole fiasco with Eugene McLaggen which I'd really rather not think about.

Anyway, Dan smiles at me and apologizes.

Wow. I can feel my heart!

Not that that's anything new. According to Allie, my heart spends more time hammering the inside of my chest than it does actually sitting around where it's supposed to like an obedient little vital organ.

I'm probably going to drop dead in a couple of years. The Healers will put it down to negligent and/or abusive behavior and will chuck my dead body in a cell in Azkaban.

Can Dementors steal dead people's souls? Or do they just whiz out the tops of our heads when we die? Souls, I mean.

"So, Daniel-"

Damn it all to hell, he's gone.

xxx

They have BLUEBERRY MUFFINS!

MUFFINS!

I love those house elves.

Merlin bless their knobbly little heads.

I'm already on my third muffin by the time Allison slides into the seat next to mine.

"Wha have 'oo been?" I demand venomously.

She doesn't even bother turning to look at me.

Considering we've only just been reunited after like two whole months apart I find this rather insulting.

"I find this rather insulting," I inform her.

"Okay," she mutters absently.

What? What is wrong with her?

Have the Inferi converted her? Oh no, she's one of them now isn't she?!

TELL ME THE TRUTH, I CAN HANDLE IT.

I grab her by the shoulders and shake her violently.

"Come back to me, Allie!"

A couple of second years start snickering and I whip around to glare at them.

"Shut up you poisonous little toadstools, before I turn you into teapots!"

"We don't take orders from no dyke," the first one says nastily.

"Yeah! Tha's right," says the second one, rather gratuitously in my opinion.

I gasp and hold up a hand to my chest.

I'm wounded! I'm affronted! I'm flabbergasted!

Since when have second years been so foul mouthed?

I transfigure the two into teapots.

Well…okay so the spouts are still noses but at least that means they're definitely breathing right?

I glance up warily at the staff table.

Okay, no one's noticed. Phew.

I turn my attention back to my wayward best friend and school my features into a mask of patience and sympathetic understanding.

"Where have you been, young lady?" I say in my best therapist-mom voice.

Surprisingly, she blushes.

"With Fred…" she mumbles.

GASP!

"Allie! What happened to 'Fred Weasley is a jerk and I'll transfigure myself into a tea bag before I go out with him again'? I thought you were over him!"

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

"Well you know, I thought I was. But then he was so nice to me on the train and he kept owling me throughout the break and…."

She bites her lip and trails off, looking at me as if she's afraid I'm going to get up and hit her with one of the dessert trays or something.

See, Allison had this thing with Fred Weasley last year but then he went and broke up with her and got together with some bint from Hufflepuff. She was in hysterics for weeks and I was the unfortunate pillar of comfort.

She must have it pretty bad for him if she's actually going to forgive him for this.

Actually, I refuse to let her get back with him! I mean, he's obviously a complete tosser and Allie is really pretty. Loads of guys would love to go out with her! Like….erm, Like that bloke Leo. He's always checking her out. And Marcus Baddock! And….James Potter! Yeah, him too. Probably.

In fact, I'm going to tell her this. I turn to her and say,

"Allie, this foolishness must stop! You have plen-"

"SYLVIE REECE! DID YOU JUST TRANSFIGURE TWO SECOND YEARS INTO TEAPOTS?"

Shite.

xxx

Okay, so I have detention. For the next two weeks. No big deal.

Oh, and I lost 50 house points but that's okay. It's not like we can go below zero anyway. I mean, you know, considering it's only the first day back and we only had like 5 points in the hourglass or something.

I make my way to the Slytherin common room and whisper the password, looking around for any Gryffindork eavesdroppers.

For some reason, Potter and Weasley have assigned their minions the task of finding out the Slytherin Dungeon's password. They're probably planning to set off dungbombs in the common room again. Actually, scratch that. They'd never repeat a prank. I shudder to think what they've come up with this time.

"Snape's hooked nose."

The passageway materializes and I stroll through, confident I'm not being followed.

Just to make sure though, I turn and cast a tripping jinx.

There's a startled exclamation and then an 'oof' as someone's face greets the ground.

Bugger.

We'll have to change the password again.

I wave my wand wearily. Veiled by the disillusionment charm is a sniveling and very frightened first year.

Good God, now they're using children.

Is that even legal?

I may be a Slytherin, but even I wouldn't send a little kid into the bloody dungeons to face a horde of malicious bigots.

(Yes, I admit that we do tend to discriminate over blood purity. It's not as bad as it used to be though from what we've been told. I mean, I don't know any Slytherins who would go off and try to kill little babies for example….)

Okay, now I'm faced with a moral dilemma.

If I take the kid as a hostage then we can use him to figure out what those two idiots are planning. I mean, it's all fair in love and war, right? Right?

On the other hand, it's just an ickle first year! It's not as if he's likely to know what they're up to anyway.

Oh, Merlin.

What to do? What to do?

I glance around nervously, this time on the lookout for fellow Slytherins.

I'm going to have to do the right thing!

…..…I may just barf.

I look down at the little kid who's bawling by now.

Oh, Lord. Oh Lordy Lord.

How does one go about this sort of thing?

"Shoo," I hiss flapping my arms.

"Huh?" says snot-face intelligently.

"You heard me, Shoo!"

"You- you're not going to…eat me?" he snivels and looks at me as if he's just seen the light and all that religious hoopla. Touched by the hand of God and so on.

Oh God, he's still sitting there clinging onto my leg.

"SCATTER."

Ooh, I just snarled. Brilliant!

"Yes maam!" Snot-face squeaks and takes off, arms flailing wildly as he dashes around the corner.

Urgh.

I'm such a bad Slytherin. I should have been in Hufflepuff or something.

All that yellowness surrounding me would have been punishment enough for my sins.

Imagine, yellow.

Gross.

I'm walking around the next day, minding my own business, like a good little Slytherin (I think that may be an oxymoron) when I'm jumped by none other than James Potter the Second.

Okay. Stop right there and get that pervy image out of your head.

He just stopped me in the corridor is all. It's not as if he dragged me into the nearest (and most unhygienic, might I add) broom closet to ravage me and take me right there.

No, it went more like this, actually:

"Reece!"

"Potter!"

"Petrificus Lesalis!"

"Fu-aah!"

Why yes, that is the spell which roots the victim to the ground.

And yes, that is the spell which currently has me rooted to the ground.

Romantic, huh?

Damn that Potter and his pretty eyes.

Review, review! *kisses*