Disclaimer: J.K. owns it all.
The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station when the sky was deepening into dusk, tints of purple fading to clean washed blue and shadows flickering cross the lantern light. Stepping into the horseless carriage Sam closed her eyes to better take in the heady jasmine that Hagrid must have planted along the lanes in the summer. The sounds of frogs in the nearby lake intermingled with the rustle of Gem fiddling with a hole in her robes and of Percy reaching the last pages of the manual under the beam of his lit wand. Oliver, craning his neck around the corner every two seconds, was as fidgety as Gem. Finally they stood at the foot of the stone steps – Percy, back rigid, tapping the parchment closed with his wand shot a look at Gem who was bouncing from foot to foot with the expression of a madwoman ("FOOD!") and Oliver sighing happily at his first sight of the Quidditch pitch. He handed the manual to Sam who was busy scratching a winged stone boar under the chin and led the way into the castle.
As they reached the Entrance Hall they crossed Professor McGonagall heading the other way, Gem stopped bouncing and adopted her inconspicuous walk for all proper dates and occasions. Percy, on the other side of Gem, seemed to grow a couple of inches.
"Professor," he nodded as she passed.
"Weasley!" called Professor McGonagall, doubling back to face him "Congratulations, the two of you," she said, with a quick smile at Sam. "I was looking for you before Weasley, a word in my office if you will." She strode back up the stairs with Percy trotting along behind her. Once the edge of her hat had safely turned the corner Gem's shoulders relaxed and she sniggered, loudly.
"I've never seen a cat with a puppy," she said looking from Oliver to Sam.
"No?" pressed Gem. Sam rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Fine."
The Great Hall was abuzz with chatter and the scrape of wood on stone. The Gryffindors moved along the hall towards their table, the one that Sam thought looked the weariest of the four, more scarred with burns and pen marks than any other. They sidled along the wooden bench towards the range of seats allocated to their grade. It was an unspoken truth that each year as they progressed up their schooling, they moved down the bench towards the back of the hall, until (literally and figuratively) they were out the door. Sam and Gem were now slightly past the middle stage and while this wasn't quite as satisfying as the jump from end-of-the-table-scarily-close-to-the-teachers to nearly-safely-out-of-range-of-Hagrid-spitting-pips-at-you, it was an improvement nonetheless.
Gem looked up to the ceiling. It was odd, she thought, how little they noticed the vast magical expanses that covered the Great Hall after their first few days at Hogwarts. In fact Gem was prepared to bet they wouldn't notice if say, hypothetically, instead of stars criss-crossing the heavens, there was a harmless game of knots and crosses, or perhaps a dot-to-dot drawing. No one would notice an extra constellation or two really. With senses honed on five years of magical mischief Gem knew that the number one secret to performing a prank in a public place was to act normal. Casually pulling out her wand with her right hand (Sam was sitting on the left) Gem flicked it towards the ceiling and said (if somewhat softer than usual) in her normal tone of voice "Inscripto."
"Did you say something Gem?"
Around Sam at times, it paid for a super prankster to not only be able to cast spells without suspicion, but to also conjure excuses to quell suspicion.
"Hm?" asked Gem casually.
"Thought you said something Gem."
"Oh I just said 'it's good though,' cause it's good you know, that the first years travel in boats to the feast on their first night. That view of the castle is just stunning from that point, and it's always evening, so all the windows are shining out with the stars, and you just keep getting closer and closer, till you can see all the towers and the bridges until you eventually get down in that little chamber and it's like wow. For everyone you know? Not just the muggleborns, but everyone is just amazed at where they are and what they're about to do for the next 7 years. But yeah, I was just thinking and suppose I said the last bit out loud."
"Hm yeah, that's great," Sam said before turning her head back towards the doors. Gem managed to turn a laugh into a hacking cough. Sam absentmindedly patted her back. Gem sneaked a peak at the ceiling and grinned at the thin shining lines that kept snaking between the stars to form and reform what appeared to be a very angular and slightly constipated dinosaur.
Sam looked out towards the huddle of fifth year boys that were conveniently congregated in her line of vision. Boys, she thought, and often didn't get any further than that. Hogwarts offered an interesting selection of the male specimen, especially upon entering the fifth grade. At fifteen the majority of boys had a pretty good idea (through extensive trial and error) what they could say or do to not repulse girls at first sight. But more interestingly, it was the platform for entry into the senior years. The years filled with gym-obsessed boys building more ego than muscle, the wayward hairstyles, the minimalistic approach to uniform, the seemingly innocent Hufflepuff found in the transfiguration corridor with none other than the Slytherin self-appointed-god-among-men and of course the unmatchable (but ever-surpassed) revenge streaks. There was an element, you could say, of predictability.
For instance, it was a fact that during O.W.L.s year more than any other, the subject studied most at Hogwarts was the students themselves. Whereas the last two years of Hogsmeade visits were focused on giggling groups of girls and boys, 5th year marked something altogether more interesting. It was the start of the drama years, the years whose gossip was followed by obsessive die-hard juniors as a primary form of entertainment.
The Gryffindor table, being farthest from the door, allowed its girls a clear view of boys from all tables without any unnecessary (and suspicious) head turning. It did not however, go unnoticed by anyone sitting next to them. Especially when the staring was accompanied by muttering, hazy eyes and occasional swearing and the people next door were best friends of the aforementioned girl. Gem grinned.
"SEE SOMETHING YUMMY SAM?" sang Gem.
Sam whipped round and glared at her best friend.
"Desecrate public property recently?" she hissed through her teeth.
Gem tried her innocent face.
Sam raised an eyebrow, flicked her eyes towards the ceiling and back to Gem's now worried expression.
"You wouldn't," muttered Gem.
"Well I am a prefect," Sam said, using her best Percy voice for effect.
"It's a pretty cute dinosaur though, you have to admit."
"Yeah it's not bad."
"You know what else isn't bad?"
"What?"
"Jimmy Goldstein."
Sam narrowed her eyes, but only for a second.
"3'o'clock next to Henry Cawley."
Sam spotted the carefully mussed hair of the Ravenclaw 5th year, seated as Gem had pointed out next to the towering bulk that was Tall Cawl.
"Not bad, not bad," said Oliver Wood. The two girls stared at him.
"Bit on the skinny side though, if he worked out a bit more then maybe" he said seriously, stroking his chin and still carefully considering the Ravenclaw.
"He'll never make Beater with the side Ravenclaw've got though."
"Arms are pretty nice," cut in Gem.
"Please," snorted Oliver, "Angelina has bigger arms than him." Gem sniggered.
"Glad to know we've got your expert opinion on hand though."
"Knots and crosses Oliver?"
Oliver's grin turned to suspicion.
"What exactly are you knotting and crossing this time?"
"PSSHT, you're so paranoid Olly," said Gem, waving his question away. Throwing her head back she looked up at the ceiling. Oliver glared at her and then cautiously turned his eyes upwards to see the unquestionably cross tyrannosaurus knot itself in a skipping rope it had been trying to use. A second later he emerged right way up, coughing and laughing, and patted Sam on the shoulder.
"Good luck this year."
She gave him a rueful smile as Percy bustled into the seat opposite her. The start of term feast proceeded without a hitch, the Sorting Hat earning its five minutes of yearly glory, the houses welcomed their new additions and the tables comfortably sinking at their knees to accommodate the weight of food once more. Percy was in his element, answering questions, spieling off facts and being generally responsible. Sam contented herself with simply observing the tiny first years. It turned out the tar-haired boy from the train was none other than Harry Potter. Well, who would've thought. Personally Sam preferred this scruffy image to the arrogant well-groomed brat she had always thought he must be. Glancing curiously at his slightly pinched face, Sam smiled as he looked up and pushed another treacle tart towards him. The kid thanked her and grinned back nervously.
"I suppose I'm most worried about Defence Against the Dark Arts, certainly it seems the most useful subject, but I do hope they don't expect us to be able to deal with anything serious straight away!"
Sam cringed, waiting for Percy's response.
"They'll take you through things step by step, there's no need to worry," explained Percy calmly to the frizzy haired girl beside him.
Looking over the heads of the first years Sam saw her own bemusement in Oliver's eyes. Though it had remained unspoken of, the three of them had had their doubts over Percy's ability to stay patient with the first years he would have to deal with so much. His inability to explain Transfiguration homework without patronising and reducing others to pools of despair had led them to believe he would be a terror rather than a mentor to their new charges but Percy Weasley seemed to have hidden stores of tact and sensitivity hitherto unknown to humankind. Oliver looked around the table.
"Where's Gem?"
Sam jumped in her seat. "What? I swear she was just – " she looked over at Gem's plate, polished clean and turned as pale as the blancmange in front of her. "Oh she's up to something. I thought the dinosaur was enough. But you know Gem at the start of term, has to start with a bang, doesn't she. Hm."
What would Gem have to disrupt. There was no sign of a food fight anywhere, nothing was amiss in the hall. Which wasn't really Gem's style anyway, thought Sam. Food was definitely high up Gem's list of sacred untouchables. She looked up and down the table, her eyes coming to rest on the bunch of first years – all happy that they had made it into Gryffindor, to some their parent's house, to some their hero's house and for all a soon-to-be-home. She wouldn't.
"Cya later" she muttered to Oliver, hurrying out of the hall.
Oliver saluted with his spoon and returned to his orange and poppy seed cake.
Five floors above, Gem was racing along a corridor towards the Gryffindor Common Room. She hurtled through a tapestry and came face to face with the one sight the majority of the Hogwarts population would rather not want to see when in a hurry – Peeves.
The poltergeist broke into a wide grin, swept his belled hat to his chest and bowed to his toes, did a somersault and came back up to face her.
"My lady"
"Peevesie! Love, I'd ask about your summer, but I've got a Prefect on my tail. Hold up the first years for me will you? Here, have some walking sticks – they don't really go with my monocle."
Peeves caught the basket and cackled as the hem of Gem's robe disappeared around the corner.
Five minutes later Sam cautiously swung open the frame to the Gryffindor Common Room and holding her wand out in front of her, stepped through the portrait hole. She had thought that Gem might have wanted to disillusion the new first years about what Gryffindor was all about, something nice and trashy to set off the extended advertisement that Percy must be giving this very moment. As always, Sam had underestimated her best friend.
The velvet curtains and scarlet tapestries that lined the tower room had been transformed into moth eaten mouldy scraps. Masses of cobwebs hung from the ceiling and a slightly downsized organ stood cramped by the fireplace playing creepy renditions of Gem's favourite nursery rhymes. At least she'd gone purely for the visuals, thought Sam as she stepped gingerly over the threshold, and not any interactive decorations. A large shadow loomed from the far side of the room – Sam spun around and lit her wand. A giant stuffed rabbit in grotesque shades of pink was lumbering towards her. When Sam simply stood there staring at it, the bunny looked slightly disappointed and shuffled back into its hideout.
"Gem, you know you're the only one who finds plush toys remotely scary."
"Not true!" panted Gem from a nearby couch.
Sam shook her head with a smile, rolled back her sleeves and took to returning the room's furniture to its normal state, ignoring Gem's feeble pleading. Having de-goth-ified the chairs, she turned to vanish the cobwebs. They stayed firmly in place. Gem gave a wheezy laugh from behind her. Frowning she conjured a stick and levitated it up to the ceiling and prodded it against the webs. It stuck.
"Hm," said Sam and flicked her wrist, the stick began to spin, winding the webs into a somewhat manageable ball. Hitting the organ with one final charm reversal spell, Sam placed the noticeboard in its normal position against the wall, picked up her ball of cobweb wool and handed it back to Gem.
"Not bad, for 10 minutes," said Sam as she slumped on to the couch.
"Same to you," grinned Gem wearily.
They both looked up as the portrait hole opened once more to reveal Percy and his little brood who shuffled tiredly into the firelight. They peered around at the comfortable room through heavy eyes.
"BINKY" a particularly small girl cried out suddenly, rushing over to the corner where Gem's rabbit had been trying to bury itself underneath some cushions. It gave a somewhat pained squeak as the first year squeezed it tightly round the middle.
"You're lovely," she said smiling up into the bemused bunny's face. "Does he stay here in the common room," she asked Percy, "is he a pet?"
"Ah, well," replied Percy, "I, I think he's just visiting at the moment" he managed.
"Good night Binky" waved the first years as they climbed their respective stairways to bed.
"Binky?" asked Percy.
"Better not to ask," said Sam.
Percy looked over to the rabbit that was gently massaging his tummy and frowned.
"Oh come on Perce, it's just a spell, it'll wear off by morning."
"You better hope so Gemima," sniffed Percy as he climbed the stairs himself, "or you'll be the one who has to deal with it."
"Prefects" muttered Gem to Sam.
"I know right?" Sam grinned. Gem threw a pillow at her.
Professor Dumbledore thought his speech had gone particularly well. It was a shame Minerva had said no to him singing along to the school song in Mermish though. He sat in his great, throne like chair at the front of the Great Hall as the last students and teachers headed out towards bed. He ran his finger across some of the more Gothic looking carvings that lined the wooden arms and had in fact being produced, not by the medieval master but by a rather bored Headmistress Derwent during a particularly long sorting one year. You learnt the most interesting things from the portraits.
"Ah! Here you two are," said Dumbledore, getting up with a start and stepping out to shake their hands.
"Why don't we just sit down here," he said, pointing towards the closest of the House tables.
"That sounds fine Professor," said Braithe as Kenna nodded next to him.
Dumbledore threw his beard over one shoulder, hoisted up his robes and swung a leg over the side of the bench. Hogwarts' new Head Boy and Girl slid along the bench opposite him and waited.
"Now first, I must offer my congratulations to you both. A fine achievement. I'm sure you'll both perform admirably."
"Thank you professor, we'll do our best," replied Braithe.
Dumbledore smiled. "Well, you do seem to be working as quite a team already, I must say. What say you, Miss Bergenstrom?"
Kenna took a moment before she replied.
"Me and Braithe have worked together before professor, on rounds and things last year. We trust each other."
The light from the candles hovering above them twinkled in Dumbledore's blue eyes.
"That's more than I could have possibly hoped for from the two Heads of my school. I think Hogwarts might possibly be ready."
The two Heads in question shot each other a look. It was Braithe who answered.
"Ready professor?"
In response Dumbledore pulled out a small shiny metal something from inside his deep purple robes, and grinned.
Five and a half minutes later gawked at Dumbledore from across the table.
"Well, I leave the decision up to the two of you. You may conduct it in whichever way you see fit. You need not feel pressured to accept, I have put this before a number of heads in the past and very few of them thought it possible. Most simply could not comprehend how or why. A few fainted. I am glad to see that you are thinking about it at the very least."
For the first time in the meeting Braithe was speechless. He looked across at Kenna whose forehead was furrowed in wrinkles so deep you could plant potatoes in them.
Kenna looked down at the hard surface of the table. Scarred and burnt, scratched and even melted in places. And mainly on the edges facing the other tables. She could see why Professor Dumbledore wanted this. She could also see why it would have to be students who organised it. But she had no idea how it could be done. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She had ideas but their legality and practicality were questionable. She met Braithe's gaze and then Dumbledore's, who was still grinning, and gave a wry smile.
"You knew we'd accept."
"My dear lady, one never knows. But one can guess, and guess well."
"We're doing it?" Braithe asked her.
"You tell me."
"Well, I have no idea how," spluttered Braithe. "Of course I'd love to try. But I'd go along with anything. You're the one who thinks things through."
"Ray, mate, since when have I been able to say no."
They grinned at each other and turned back to Dumbledore who was looking at them with a wonderfully content smile.
"Best wishes to you both then."
The Heads walked off together, Braith carrying the metal object carefully wrapped in its coverings.
Dumbledore watched them go with an enormous amount of pride and fondness. Sighing happily he looked up to the magical ceiling of his school, watching the moon peep out from behind a haze of cloud. A starry dinosaur was absentmindedly perched on the end of the crescent moon, swinging his legs.