My mother tells me three things every year before I board the Hogwarts Express, and they are always the same.


First she would tell me to "make sure you respect the professors."


I tucked a strand of auburn hair behind my ear, boredom washing over my. This Charms lesson was the most ridiculous thing I had ever sat through, excluding History of Magic classes. Flitwick was going on and on about how important O.W.L. year would be for us.

"Every charm must be mastered this year if you want to continue into my N.E.W.T class. Remember I only accept students who receive Es or higher."

I wasn't paying attention though; I had heard it from every other teacher so far this first week. They had all said almost the exact same thing. My head slumped against the desk as Professor Flitwick continued. The sound of my head making contact with the wood must have broken his concentration, because he looked over at me. Too bad I wasn't paying attention, seeing as I was almost asleep.

"Ah, Miss Potter."

My head darted up upon realizing the Charms Professor had broken his monotonous speech. I looked around for a few seconds in a semiconscious daze, before turning my attention to the short man.

"Yes, sir?" I questioned, involuntarily yawning. The professor chuckled.

"Am I boring you?" He asked me. I had to resist a smirk. Did he really need to ask that to find the answer?

"To be quite honest, sir, you are." I answered him. A few students, like my cousin Hugo next to me, just stared in disbelief. Most, however, erupted in laughter at how blunt I had just been.

"Well then, maybe a three foot long essay on why O.W.L. year is so crucial to your future will help spark your interest." He said while smirking.

"I'm sure it will, Professor. I look forward to writing it." I answered with a grin, trying to sound as happy as possible. This time, the whole class laughed at my misfortune, but I didn't care. That was what I did, entertain others. For some reason the professors didn't usually mind when I cracked jokes and never handed those silly essays they set me in.

So I didn't really respect the professors, but they didn't seem to care.


Then she would go on about not "causing any trouble."


My steps were soft against the cold flagstone floors of the hallway leading to the Ravenclaw tower. I had to be extremely quiet. Even under an Invisibility Cloak, you always had to be vigilant. Eyes constantly trained on the Marauder's Map, with an occasional glance in front of me so hat I wouldn't trip over myself and ruin my whole cover.

The Ravenclaw Captain, a seventh year, had announced extremely loudly this morning at breakfast that he wasn't afraid of the Gryffindor team at all. He exclaimed that he was confident his team would win next Saturday's match against the lions.

In my opinion, the stupidest mistake he could possibly make. He would have to pay for that remark. I was the Gryffindor Captain, and I felt it was my responsibility to teach him one extremely important lesson.

I had reached the steps to their common room and searched the map to see if anyone was passing by. Filch was lurking around the second floor, with a few prefects patrolling the dungeons. Perfect conditions for the perfect prank.

I started weaving the spells that would cause a great deal of talking for a couple of days, definitely until the match at least. Every few minutes I would check the map for signs of anyone, and then continue with my work.

I finished the elaborate spell work and made my way back to my own common room. I couldn't wait for tomorrow at breakfast.

Everyone else from Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor seemed to notice that there were no Ravenclaws at breakfast the next morning, but I was just calmly eating as if nothing was wrong. My brother Albus watched me warily. He knew something was up.

When the first Ravenclaw entered, the whole hall just stared at him for a moment, and then burst into laughter. I just smiled appreciatively at how amused everyone was. The other Ravenclaws entered, looking exactly the same.

Their skin was no longer its natural color, but striped Gryffindor red and gold. All their heads were down. They seemed so embarrassed by the color choice I had chosen, and I was sincerely excited by the reactions I was getting from the rest of the student body.

All of the professors were running around, trying in vain to fix their skin colors. It wouldn't work of course, seeing as I had charmed it to stay until after the match, but it would only disappear at that time if Gryffindor won. If by some miracle the Ravenclaws did manage to scrape up a win, then I would not change it for an entire month. When I told my brother, who was across the table from me, about the circumstances, the students all around us burst out in more laughter.

The great wooden doors of the Great Hall banged open, revealing Professor Longbottom, the Herbology professor and Head of Gryffindor house. He searched the faces of the students at his house's table, until his eyes rested on me.

"POTTER!"

So I did cause quite a bit of trouble, but what would be the fun in that?


But most important of all, she instructed me "to never let anyone take advantage of you."


My deep red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, bobbing long as I walked toward the library alone, my head in a book already. I usually didn't put much effort into preparing exams, but the O.W.L.'s were definitely different from the regular end of the year testing. I was not going to screw this up; I had messed up too much before and my parents deserved to be able to brag about me for something other than Quidditch.

So that's why I was trying to study so hard, memorizing ever bit of information that I cam across, even with three weeks left to go before the O.W.L.'s. My friends, who cared even more than I did about school, weren't even studying as hard as I was yet.

I heard whispering behind me and turned around to see who it was. I saw a flash of fabric as I saw two people hurry down a hallway. I couldn't tell who it was, and frankly, I could care less.

The whispering continued, and I turned my head around once more. This time I was a bit faster, and saw the whole body of one of the people that seemed like they were following me until he too disappeared with whatever other person he was with. Of course I couldn't tell who it was. I had inherited my dad's eyesight but refused to wear glasses. All I saw was green, meaning the culprits were Slytherins. I was still a few floors away from the library, and I don't think I could handle two idiots following me all the way down.

I heard hurried footsteps, but it only sounded like one person now, behind me. This time I waited a few seconds and whipped around as fast as I possibly could. Callum Zabini was a few steps behind me, a smug expression on his face. All I knew about him was that he was a Slytherin in his sixth year, and a prefect. He was already on my bad side.

"What do you want Zabini?" I asked him coldly.

"Who says I need anything? What if I just felt like talking to you?" He answered, the corners of his mouth curling up at the ends.

'That makes so much sense, Zabini. I know we've talked so much in the past." I answered him sarcastically. I turned on my heels around and continued my walk to the library. This idiot was taking up some of my precious study time. He hurried to catch up with me at the pace I was going. He wrapped his arm around me and I immediately pushed it off.

"What was that for?" I asked him indignantly. Who did this guy think he was?

'Come on Potter." He answered, wrapping his arm around my waist. I tried to push him off me again, but his grip was too strong. I was so mad at him right now, I could barely control myself. My face was probably as red as my hair. "I heard what you've done in broom closets. Humor me."

He tried to kiss me, but I turned me head away just in time. Instead of using my physical strength to get him off me, I grabbed for wand in my robes, with Zabini still trying to get his lips on mine. I pointed my wand straight at him and he flew back into the wall.

"Never gonna happen." I answered before stalking away. But just as he was getting up and I was leaving the hallway, I shot a hex back at him. The Bat Bogey, one my mother had taught me.

No one ever takes advantage of Lily Potter.


One out of three isn't too bad, is it?