-1It was her first day at a new school, and nothing tickled her more than being the new girl. She was every teacher's worst nightmare. Rebellious, smart-assed, and promiscuous as the day was long. She was Lane Dappleport and she was a witch. The sorting the previous night had gone over well, she thought. She was in Slytherin, her mother and father's house when they attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her motto was "Give me a reason." People usually didn't. At breakfast she ignored the loudmouth prats sitting at the table. She wanted some fun, but not the juvenile pranks that these wankers pulled. When a first year knocked into her elbow, she stood up forcefully and left the table, muttering, "Bloody hell, you fucking wankers. You want fun? I'll give you fun." And with that, she was like a woman on a mission. Her first class was potions with the Slytherin head of house. She feigned attention for awhile, the asked to be excused. She made her way to the first floor girls lavatory, took out her muggle "magic" marker, then began to write rude swear words and draw crude pictures on the walls and mirrors. For an added touch, she included several students and faculty members names in her works of "art."
On the way back to class, (which she was taking her time) she ran across a young Hufflepuff first year. "Boo!" She yelled loudly, causing the girl to drop her books, spilling ink and parchment everywhere. She cackled hysterically and walked a tad bit faster. The noise would draw attention, and she didn't want to be caught just yet. Small time vandalism was not the worst of her crimes. She was also a well known arsonist at her old school, and petty thief. She didn't steal because she wanted the stuff. She stole because she could. Her family life was troubled. But then again, these days, whose wasn't? She was mentally, physically and sexually abused, all before the time she was seven. Due to a selective memory, she couldn't recall any facts from that time period. So no one knew why Lane acted the way she did.
The caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch, was patrolling the corridor where her class was located. "What are you doing out of class?" He demanded.
"I had to use the lavatory, Sir." She mocked his authority. His face went from pale to beet red in five seconds.
"What were you doing in the lavatory?" Filch asked.
"I believe that is a very personal question." Lane replied, turning on her heels to return to potions class.
"Stop right there, Miss. Peeves just came out of the girls loo and said that a student was drawing rude words and pictures on the walls. He said the student looked just like you." Filch's breath came at a wheeze.
"Oh, really? Now couldn't that just be the testimony of an ornery poltergeist looking to get me in trouble?" Lane shot back, furious that she was caught so quick. Usually she got to sit back and enjoy the confusion of the teachers as to who the culprit really was.
"It's a shame they don't allow us to spank the students for smarting off to a staff member." Filch grumbled.
"Yes, it is a shame." Lane agreed, to get a rise out of Mr. Filch.
He didn't hear her retort, but continued on. "So if I send Professor McGonagall in to the lavatory there will be no writing on the walls?" He demanded.
Lane didn't answer, but stood thinking. She was thinking that she had found her new victim for the year. "Do what you want. I have to be in class, thank you." She left before he could say another word.
That afternoon, Lane was called to Filch's office. "What's the matter?" Lane asked coolly.
"We have testimony from both Moaning Myrtle and Peeves that you were the vandal this morning." Filch said, scratching Mrs. Norris behind her tufted ears.
"Really? Looks like you caught me red-handed." She sat in the chair opposite Filch's desk. As she sat, he couldn't help notice the rise of her skirt, which rose due to the fact that she wore it five inches shorter than anyone else. Her patent leather Mary Jane style shoes caught the light of Filch's office as she crossed her legs. Her chest strained against the buttons of her school provided uniform, and the top three buttons had been undone, revealing the soft line of her cleavage whenever Filch looked down. Her silver and green tie hung limply around her neck. It was warm in the office, so Lane removed her robes. Filch scooted Mrs. Norris off his lap and proceeded to fill out a detention form.
"You will serve detention with me for a week. Your first will be tonight, after dinner. You'll be scrubbing the walls of that bathroom." Lane was no stranger to detentions, so she took it all in stride. "I want you here at 7:00 sharp." Lane stood up and grabbed her robes off of the back of the chair, briefly flashing Filch with the smallest glimpse of her panties.
"I guess I'll see you then, Mr. Filch." She purred his name and he felt his legs go numb.
