Note: I'd like to thank those few who admit to liking this by commenting. I'd be more personal, but there's often no way to get back to you. Here's free hugs and cookies for you anyway.

Chapter 4: Mischief

When it was finally time for lunch, I had my imagination under control again. That was all the better since the teachers were having their lunch at the head table. Slash-pairing teacher was not a good idea. If I remembered correctly there was something like reading people's minds. I did not want that to happen just when my mind declared that slash-shipping Snape with any good looking guy was fine. Just think of the pictures.

I tried to trample all over those thoughts and did my best to think Faramir and Eowyn in connection with black and blonde hair mingling in the wind. Success was - about acceptable. I would have tried to drown myself in a bowl of stew, but that would just have led to awkward questions. Instead I did my best to get Draco to talk. He was almost obsessed with flying, and Quidditch and there was no stopping him once he started. Not that I wanted to. Unknown Quidditch players soaring through the sky on broom going after balls - okay, it was only a bit better.

As it was, there was more Quidditch than one could remember during one lunch time. I did my best to keep the players and teams apart as we followed Professor Kettleburn from the Greenhouses to the Quidditch pit and back through half the castle. Draco had launched into a full report of last years Quidditch World Cup, which, if you believed his stories, he had seen from the first row from the first to the last game. I didn't bother to ask what Haversacking was and how it had prevented Scotland from rightfully winning against Turkey.

Kettleburn left us at the library. Draco could not understand my excitement, but the mere idea of thousands of books - unheard of, new impossible books - was enough to make me giddy. A glance at Blaise told me he shared my affinity towards books but was better at concealing it. He was concealing everything. I think, it was quite amazing. So was Mrs. Pince. Without any decorum she told us that this was her territory and we would play according to her rules if we ever dared to come here.

Making a mental list of things you didn't do if you didn't want to annoy her was much easier than making a list of the players of a Quidditch team. Finally, we were admitted into the library proper. The books were - they were the most bookish I had ever experienced. I knew how it felt to stand in the middle of a library including one and a half floors of a huge university building. How the presence of thousand of bound volumes seemed to stretch reality thing and make everything possible. I knew how it felt to stand, admittedly awestruck, among he books of Westminster Abbey Library, the huge volumes taller than me, some of them indeed chained into the shelves with wooden bars.

This was different. This was more. The scent of parchment and ink was penetrating everything, as if I lived inside a well-aged copy of a Bantam book. Coming to think of that, I might. I had no idea which company published the Potter books in the States. I inhaled deeply and stared at the shelves, ignoring the look Mrs. Pince gave me. There were books! Counting in my head, that were three addictions taken care of: books, tea and chocolate. The rest could wait.

Almost bouncing I waited for the formalities to be over. The rest of the first years almost fled the place as soon as they could, leaving pretty much me - and Hermione. I grinned at her. "So many books," I whispered, "I can't believe it. I don't even know what to borrow first."

She looked at me with a frown. "You're that Slytherin girl from the train."

"Well, I have not been a Slytherin on the train yet," I objected, "but my name is Vianne anyway. Vianne Snyder." I held out my hand. "Pleased to meet you."

She stared at my hand for a moment before she took it. "Hermione Granger." It was obvious she did not know how to take this.

"So, you just heard you were a witch when you got the letter, too?" I asked. She nodded. "It's all so exciting," I went on. "I think I'll have a book about the theory of magic. And one about wizard customs. I have no clue about wizards, really."

"But you're a Slytherin." Hermione crossed her arms before her.

"That means I am a scheming bastard and smug about it, I know." I grinned. "But since I have been raised by muggles who adopted me, I might just be a bloody muggle-born and gawds, wouldn't I love to see the look on their faces if I was."

"That is not very nice of you," she declared, eyeing me suspiciously. "And I don't see why it should matter anyway."

I shrugged. "Neither do I, but people are strange. And you're right, there are not many children in Slytherin raised by muggles. I miss it."

"Well, I think this is much more interesting," Hermione said, glancing around.

At that moment I wondered why she had never, as far as I could remember, mentioned anybody from her past. Other friends from her old school, children she had played with from the neighbourhood. I did not dare to ask, though. "It's all new and so much," I agreed. "But the organisation, I mean, did nobody tell them about folders here? I want blocs and biros. Things I know how to use. How am I to arrange all the parchments? And it's only the first day."

"I am sure they have a way to organise things here. It is bound to be magical, of course." Then she began to lecture me on what she had read in the books for school so far. I listened, looking for clues on organising notes and those about her past. I found neither. But we did start down the aisle through the shelves and talk about books. That was enough for now. I did not have a clear idea about what I would want to read. There was no obvious department for wizarding customs, either, so I put that back for later. I could always try to ask Kayly about those, anyway. I hoped. I made a note to look for the Room of Requirement. Again.

Hermione got lost in the department for magic history while I tried to find biographies. Merlin might be interesting, or Cassandra, and how did books on mythology look when written by wizards. I could research unicorns and druids, merepeople of course and vampires. Gawds, vampires in the potterverse; I wondered what they were like. If they were sparkly, I could always try a van Helsing career.

I had no idea how long I roamed the library. One book led to another and soon I realised I would have to pick and chose, because the alternative was moving my bed into the library. In the end Mrs. Pince politely informed me that being a first year meant I could only take five books from the library at any given time. Stricken, I looked at the pile I had managed to carry to the counter. It did not help. So I picked five books and moped. I got a stern lecture about the treatment of the books that I inter-punctuated with varied forms of 'most certainly, madam'. I did want to borrow more books after all. Finally, I was allowed to take my precious prey away.

I ran back to the dungeons, stacking the books on my bedside table. Yep, that looked a lot more like my usual bedside table. The books had been missing. I grinned. Quidditch Through the Ages would probably the first thing to read, if only to keep Draco happy. The biographies of Merlin and Uric the Oddball would be next accompanied by happy forays into Household Spells for the Tidy Witch and

The Theory and Composition of Spells. Mrs Pince had looked a bit lost about my selection, but I had been a role model library user and she could not complain.

Then I cast a quick Tempus, because I could and because I wanted to know. Magic was such fun. I still had some time before supper, so this was my chance to go looking for the Room of Requirement. Not that I knew where to start - something with trolls, my mind whispered, but I couldn't be sure to be telling myself the truth. I stood in the main stair case looking up. It was dizzying. I watched the moving stairs. It was tempting.

I ran up the first flight of stairs which promptly changed its direction when I was halfway up. But that didn't matter. When I reached its end, I just ran towards the next one, and then another one and another. I had no idea how far up I had gone in the end, but when I glanced down it looked okay. Now all I had to do was pray. I grinned. What could happen? This was Hogwarts.

I spotted a flight of stairs slowly changing its way across the stairwell. Perfect. My excitement rose as I climbed onto the bannister. This was probably forbidden. I felt giddy. I was only eleven. I began to run and when I was above the lower moving flight of stairs I jumped with an exhilarated yell.

Of course, I landed with a slump and rolled down the stairs in a rather painful way. Even that could not wipe the maniac grin from my face. I got up again, racing up the the stairs. This was fun. I crouched on the landing waiting for the next opportunity and happily ignored the portraits murmuring around me. I still had an hour. The Room of Requirement would have to wait.

Half an hour and several sprained joints later, I almost flattened Mrs. Norris. Immediately, I stopped fooling around and searched for Filch. To my utter relief he was nowhere to be seen. Even if he should have some strange star warsy moods, he was still a stickler for rules. It was more than amazing that none of the portraits had taken enough offence to report me. Or they had and it was just that nobody believed them.

I made my way to the cat and crouched before it. "Hello, Mrs. Norris. Would you like to be scratched behind the ears?"

She stared at me in a way that made it very clear she did not and how dare I even suggest it. I shrugged and got up again. Following the cat, I hope that duvets would be happening in the near future. We were indeed moving downstairs. At the entrance of the dungeons Filch was waiting, staring at me from under his mop of greasy hair.

"Your problem is solved," he announced.

"Thank you, sir." I grinned up at him happily. "That is very kind of you, though I will make sure not to flaunt the fact and ruin your reputation."

He snorted something under his breath. Most likely including the demand to never bother him with something like that again. Not that there was any chance of that happening, should I encounter any other problems. Not that I could think of any right now, but sooner or later the wizarding world was bound to pose silly problems no muggle would ever encounter.

"May the Force be with you," I called after him.

He turned his head, mumbled and shuffled away. Now that had gone well. I guessed. I found the bit of wall that was the entrance to the dormitories. For a moment I wondered how you could change the password and what fun it would be to change it to 'Basilikum'. That would need investigating. Maybe being a prefect would help. If I managed to behave well enough to ever be one.

I fell down face-first onto my huge bed and buried my face in the duvet. Yep, this was definitely more like it. I considered starting on the biography of Uric, but Tempus also worked when muffled extremely. And supper would not wait. And anyway, it was food. Never get between me and food. Uric would have to wait. The first spell to learn would be the one to make a small light to read under my blanket. Good old times. I had never thought they'd happen to me again.

Since I was not able to start on the amazing life ant feats of Uric the Oddball, I contented myself wondering if I could learn how to turn my hat into a jellyfish after some general transfiguration training and if there were repercussions for doing so. Maybe that wouldn't matter in the end. The prospect of strutting into the main hall with a jellyfish on my head was entertaining. Tor now I just strutted - right into a well filled hall.

Everybody was sitting neatly sorted to their respective house tables. It was disgusting. The food was not, and that came first. It was amazing that there were not more obese pupils at Hogwarts. Or, considering latest findings on eating habits and their origins it just might not. I sat down next to Draco who was chatting with Crabbe and Goyle who still lacked first names. I was such a slacker.

"So," I asked as I helped myself to a liberal amount of vegetables and chicken, "how do you keep up with the outside wolf form here?"

"My father will send the Daily Prophet," Draco said, sounding not very happy about it. "But at least he cannot make me read it here." In decided to take this as my very personal newspaper service. If it worked, I might send Mr. Malfoy a not of thanks, though that depended on whether I managed to make it also annoying. "And my mum has promised to send Quintessential Quidditch each week." It was not really surprising that he looked forward to that more than the news.

With a sudden I realised that I would not get any owls for the future. Not that I wanted Uhu to drop Bumblebee into my breakfast regularly, but that had really been the only post I could expect. I stashed away some food for the little critter, provided he returned. Transfigurations with McGonagall in cat form had turned him into the fastest rat in all Hogwarts. Maybe he had run into Mrs. Norris instead. Poor thing.

"can you get leave to watch the games?" I asked Draco, trying to bottle up the creeping sadness. "We're not even allowed to leave for Hogsmeade for two years."

"No," he grumbled. While Draco ranted against this unfairness, I gobbled down my supper, grabbing a second serving of veggies. "My father took me to see all the important games of the Falmouth Falcons," he finished his tirade decidedly unhappy.

"Maybe he should become headmaster then," I mumbled. Though Lucius Malfoy sitting in the headmaster's office was all kinds of warring adjectives in my mind.

Draco was actually considering the idea for a moment and then went on to explain how his father war too important at doing what he did to be headmaster here. Though her would, naturally, do a better job than Dumbledore any day.

The Malfoy-Malfoy assessment was fun to listen to. There was a good amount of hero worship covering up expectable misgivings and frustrations of an only child. He sounded rather spoilt, protected and not aware of the fact that note everybody lived the same way. And what was more, his awareness that this was not their fault was rudimentary to non-existent. Rich kids, I knew why I had avoided them.

"Best father ever, huh," I half snorted in reply.

"Of course," Draco seemed immune to sarcasm. "Nobody can hold a candle to him, not even yours."

I looked at him, pressing my lips together for a moment. "Well no, of course not. It's pretty difficult to hold anything when you're dead."

"How do you know? You were just adopted." Draco's grasp of tact was amazing.

"I surely hope he's dead," I said, grabbing a piece of treacle tart and getting up. "Because if he was still alive and not - not looking for me, that would be worse."

Now Draco was not the only one staring at me with a shocked and unbelieving expression. I must have been louder than I intended. "Well, really," I mumbled, "you don't just lose your child and go on as if nothing happened." Uncomfortable with the continued staring I left with my cake.

Sitting down next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table was possibly not the best strategy where avoiding stares was concerned. "Hi," I ignored the look on Ron's face and concentrated on Harry and Hermione. "So, how did you like the first day?"

"Can you do that?" Harry wanted to know.

"Do what?" Being eleven allowed you to speak with your mouth full and not feel guilty.

"Sit here," he explained.

"Of course." I took time to swallow. Now this was plain stupid. Houses was just a convenient way to break down a large number of pupils into manageable ones. It did not mean you were supposed to hate each other, look down on anybody or anything.

"Aren't you supposed to eat with your house mates?" Ron chimed in. He probably didn't like me. That was mutual.

"I did." I pointed at the remains of my cake. "That is just dessert."

There was no groaning and no facepalming ensued. I was rather disappointed and sure that at least Blaise would have tried to raise a brow. "There's no rules against it," I explained. "And there surely is no obligation to be an idiot, or snob or moron just because of the house you got sorted into." I looked at Harry. "So, what do you think about this school?"

"It is different," he finally said. "Not only from everything I know, but also from what I imagined it to be." He shrugged.

"In a good or a bad way?" I asked, pushing the empty plate away. "I mean, it's different from what I thought, too. The library is a blast, and there's real ghosts and magic. But I didn't think people would fall so easily into old routines they didn't make, old mentalities and rivalries and such."

"That's not so difficult, seeing who ended up in Slytherin," Ron murmured.

I looked over my shoulder at Draco and Blaise. "I could say that about Gryffindor, too," I replied, "but I won't. House rivalry is stupid. What's the reason, really? We have to spend the next seven years with each other."

"They started it," Ron insisted.

"It always takes two," I shrugged. "Anyway. I got to go. Wanted to read some and try to get a head start on Herbology and Potions."

"Most students are not any further than we are," Harry said, probably meaning pupils coming from muggle families. "I thought they would."

"Just because they are sloths, doesn't mean I have to." I stood up. "Besides it's going to take forever to read through the library."

"There are over seventy-five thousand books in the Hogwarts library," Hermione informed me. "You cannot read through all of them."

"Not going to stop me," I grinned. "Or you. Dare you to read more than me by the end of the year."

She looked intrigued and shocked. Ron mumbled something about the idea being completely stupid. With a sideways glance at him she nodded. "What will the prize be?"

"We'll think of something," I suggested.

"A book," Ron grumbled under his breath and then crumpled under the combined glares of me and Hermione.

"Well, see you tomorrow." I turned and left. And since I was already moving, I decided to have a go at finding that Room of Requirement. Not that I remembered anything about its location. I decided to search the school from top to bottom. And if I found nothing, I'd just have to try again. It took a while to get to the top floor. The moving staircases were no real help. I wondered why anybody would want stairs that might just put you down in the wrong wing of a house. Wizards were not thinking straight. It might be a useful thing to remember.

Starting at random I went ahead and tried all doors. Most were locked. I wondered why. How many forbidden and possibly dangerous objects could you stash away in one school? I decided I didn't want to know. There was the Philosopher's Stone and that would be enough for now. Not to mention a badly turbaned Lord of Evil. He should have taken more pride in his role and at least gotten black armour and a breather. Really.

After a while of opening and not opening doors I wondered if I had the right corridor on the right floor at all. Or maybe I didn't need the Room of Requirement enough. Now that was one scary thought I didn't want to pursue. I really, needed to talk to Kayly. But not today, I decided a little while later. There was only so many rooms you could peer into before you felt stupid.

I went to my room to grab some books, parchment and a quill which had nothing to do with ravens since it was bright white. Except if there were albino ravens. I mulled that over on my way to the dungeons. Maybe that was a kind of posh pen in the wizarding world, and top of the line would probably be phoenix feather quill. Then I arrived and I liked it better than what I remembered from the Gryffindor common room immediately.

The Slytherin common room emanated the kind of cosy highly exclusive British gentlemen's clubs do. Couches of dark leather, lamps with green shades and heavy furniture were scattered in the huge room. A fire place with a roaring fire was set in one wall, a davenport with a selection of books stood at another wall and snake ornaments could be found aplenty.

"Holy guacamole," I said as I went down the last steps and sat down opposite of Blaise. He read a book that was not for homework and pretended to ignore me. Slytherins of all ages lingered alone or in groups, the murmurs were very soft though. Probably the habit of those with secrets to keep. "I could get used to this. I really could."

"Do yourself a favour and stop looking like a child in a candy shop," Blaise just commented.

"But I am a child," I grinned and picked up one of my books. "And this is exactly the kind of candy I'd want."

"Parvenus only turn into noveau riche," he deigned to inform me.

"I won't mind being rich," I replied. "And later I can always marry into one of the old pureblood families. I am in the perfect house for that." It was very relieving to know I'd never have to worry about any of that, seeing how I'd be gone again after seven years latest.

He pulled the book a little higher between us which made me giggle. "Only if you get to know Luthor Saltion."

Blaise did not elaborate and I decided to look up that guy later. I had never heard of him before, but again, that didn't mean anything. True to myself I started changing books every few paragraphs. The introduction to Charms was dead boring. It mostly went 'blah, it's magic, blah' and was not even written very scientific. W00t for reading children's books again. Transfiguration was not much better and it had no subject index. How was I supposed to find anything relating to hats and jellyfish under those circumstances? Not that I was sure srtg+f had been invented for computers already in the normal world. I decided to find a spell with the same function, or create one in dire case of need.

I ended up reading mostly about Uric. It was just most fun as it seemed that he had always been rather eccentric, experimenting with backwards broomflying and spells to grow trees upside down already at a very early age. The first magic he performed was said to have been turning clouds into real shapes while playing 'what does the cloud look like' with his father.

There was really not much to be done and I did have to get up early again the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Gah, I hated school again already. But at least I had duvets now.

My personal three-girl alarm worked perfectly again the next morning. I was a bit loth to part with my newly acquired duvets, but since they were not likely to vanish again I had no real reason to linger.

At breakfast I secured a seat between Pansy and Blaise just opposite of Draco. I found porridge with raisins and liberated a liberal amount of it. "Is there any tea around?" I asked, scanning the table. There were offers of pumkin juice, but I declined politely. It might be all the rage in the wizarding world, but I had not yet acquired a taste for it. Nor would I ever, if I had a say in it.

"Bother." I started shovelling porridge into my face. "And how about my chances to encounter cola?"

There were more uncomprehending looks. "That's muggle stuff, isn't it?" Draco finally asked.

"Sure is, " I nodded. "And a great invention in the realms of caffeine. And certainly very useful for staying awake through the History class." Out of nowhere a cup appeared beside my plate. I raised it suspiciously, but it held only tea. Black, tea, a very strong English breakfast blend that left scratches down my throat as a tentative test showed. I was decidedly happy.

"House elves or house magic?" I wanted to know.

"House elves," Draco replied promptly. "Only they would be so slow."

I felt the urge to rib him, but found myself in a very inconvenient position to do so. "Thank you house elves," I said instead, taking another sip. Then I almost spit it across the table when something dug sharply into my ankle. Ferocious scratching ensued and I found an annoyed looking Bumblebee staring up at me accusingly.

"Hello down there," I greeted the wayward rat. Then I bent to pick the black miscreant up which he allowed graciously. Appeased with some of my breakfast, he even stayed seated in my lap. I was so busy finding out what my fastidious pet deigned to eat that I missed the arrival of the owls. Not that I expected anything myself.

A small parcel dropped neatly into Draco's hand. He set aside the Daily Prophet without a second glance and turned his attention towards the assorted sweets his mother had sent. Suppressing a mix of envy and exasperation I reached for the newspaper. "Can I borrow that?"

Draco just nodded, his mind on other things. He looked rather cute, but I refrained from pinching his cheeks in public. I turned my attention to the paper instead. I tired. I really did, but nothing I read made much sense to me. I knew (most of) the words, but whatever the Aurors had done, I was not sure if they were praised or attacked for it. The cartoon moved and made funny gestures but no sense. The only interesting bit was a sentence stating probably surprised that even in this modern time there seemed to be no way around Luthor Saltion in the ministry and politics.

I wondered if Saltion might be some kind of Ackermann of the wizarding world. That would make him a goblin here. I snickered and let crossover craziness run wild, turning all bankers into goblins. Then I retuned the Daily Prophet to Draco. It was actually lousy reading for a child. I considered sending Mr. Malfoy a list of book suggestions adequate for a boy in Draco's age.

History was even worse than I had expected. Professor Binns was not only a ghost, he was all over deadly boring with a voice so boring it didn't even put you to sleep. It was a real challenge to try and follow his ramblings and prying some information for it. His voice made your head feel as if it was slowly filled up with dust. The times in which Hogwarts had been founded might have been fun, bloody and dangerous, but he made you feel as if the ancestors would have considered being dead a very exciting change of things.

Actually, he managed to make the class feel as if being dead would a very exciting change of things, too. Only Hermione stayed alert and took copious note the whole time. I wondered if she was really taking them for this class, or if she was working on something for another class already. Or if she was writing something completely unrelated. It was how I wrote a lot of my stuff. I would have to ask her. The idea of FanfictionWriting!Hermione was amazing.

Charms was more interesting as we got to do magic now. The Lumos charm was exactly what I had been looking for. Now reading under my blanket would not be a problem, except maybe a bit suffocating. I had to check if the beds had curtains, now that would be a solution. Meanwhile it was fun to see how much havoc a class of eleven-year-olds could wreak with a simple spell like that. I got the idea that it might be a sheer miracle the school was still standing.

Glowing wands were pointed in all directions, blinding other pupils or poking them. Even I managed to look directly into a successful lumos of Draco. He was amazingly good with light considering he he was supposed to be a dark wizard. I considered the possibility of a lumos creating black-light and how green his hair might turn in it. As a result, I scared half the class by casting a sickly green lumos by accident. Suppressing a snicker I had to fight the urge to call Abracadabra

and scare everybody to death. The similarity to the death curse was uncanny and my inner linguist decided to go off and do research.

"Concentrate, Miss Snyder," Flitwick encouraged me. "You must focus on the spell, then you can do it."

I nodded, extinguishing the green light at the end of my wand. When I tried again, the light was satisfactorily white and bright enough. I beamed at the professor who seems close to exploding with pride and went to help Neville. The boy had potential. Of all pupils, only Neville had managed to actually set fire to his wand. Curious, I put my wand to Draco's hair to see if it would catch fire. It did not.

"Keep your wand to yourself," he hissed at me.

That was a very bad thing because with a sudden wand jokes flooded my mind. If I had known the melody to 'The Wizard's Staff Has A Knob At The End'* I would have started humming that just to keep my mouth busy. I was not sure how much innuendo would work with the others yet. But the time would come. I hoped.

I spent the rest of the lesson poking others with the glowing wand, getting poked back and half blinded and hissing polite insults. Especially Blaise was good at the latter, I really, really liked him. This was so much fun. And the green accident had given me ideas about modifications of teh spell that could be even more fun. I would need some more research on spells and charms before I tried anything, though.

Transfiguration put a damper on my magical enthusiasm. It was difficult. It was extremely difficult. And we only had to transfigure a match into a needle. Admittedly, neither could hold my attention for very long. My mind wavered between trying to imagine the needle, questioning the use of the exercise and wondering how it related to hats and jellyfish. Even with the help of the spell and the wand to focus my magic, nothing much happened. I was tempted to make a small hole into one end of the match and pretend I had at least managed to create the eye.

I spent lunch at the lake in the company off books and sandwiches. House elves are really convenient when you think about it. You say what you would like and poof, there it was. I even had a piece of cake for dessert. The view across the lake was beautiful and though I was sitting in the shadow of a huge tree the heat tempted me to just jump into the water. What were lakes for, if not swimming?

For the moment I contented myself with cold apple juice and books. The Theory and Composition of Spells was written more scientific than Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling . It was a convoluted accumulation of extraordinary long words. In the end it all boiled down to it is magic, it works magically. It was somewhat like the Force, being everywhere around and generally doing things, and you needed to focus it. For beginners using a wand was a perfect means of focus and the additional power stemming from its magical components strengthened the signal.

Uttering the words added another layer of concentration on the spell. The better you knew what you wanted to to and the more focussed you were, the better the spell worked out. Once you learnt how to focus you magic, wordless incantations were the logical result. Not to mention that those spared the author a lot of hard work inventing incantations for spells. I appreciated. And it meant that in the end it really was headology, it all came down to how you used your head. I could live with that. Being magically strong did help, too. I would just have to be an optimist in that regard.

Herbology started off with theory as well. I secured a seat close to Millicent and pansy. I had to learn how to do girl stuff the wizarding way, too and they were my best shot at that. They did give me strange looks when I immediately tried to get as many pints as possible, but I had to. Theory was the only way to get through this subject for me. I had managed to let cacti die of thirst. Flaying would start only next week, and no explanations were given. Oh well, I could wait for that.

DADA with Quirrelmort stayed boring. I started memorizing spells and wondered how I could get away with doing homework instead of taking notes. Homework. I really had forgotten about homework. Staring bleakly at the amount of it piling up before me. Loads and loads of essays. At least I would finally learn how to write one now.

The Room of Requirement refused to show up whenever I went looking for it. Jumping across the stairwell got me disapproving glances from the portraits. Mostly, because some urged me on, probably in the hope I'd break my neck. I managed to escape Filch and Mrs. Norris, trying to come up with a viable plan to have an SW marathon in some kind of broom closet.

Did I mention astronomy? Weird idea. You have a lesson at midnight, trudge across the school grounds and yawn at each other vigorously. At least somebody had mercy and we had the first lesson on Thursdays off. Putting History before lunch was not such a good idea, though. We were tired and hungry and more than half asleep. Not that there was much to miss. I decided to do some self learning in the subject and find a way to doodle away time in the class. There had to be some spells for that. I would have to ask the Weasley twins about that.

And with a sudden it was Thursday evening. I had a load of homework already to last all weekend, no sign of my footnoterphone. The biography of Uric had been very entertaining and stopped rather suddenly when Uric supposedly died trying to prove that modern sciences opened up a whole new world of animagi. Even a thorough examination of all bacteria and viruses of the room he had last occupied came up dry. You had to admire the man's imagination.

After supper, I sat down opposite of Hermione. Ron gave ma a dark look, but I had actually done nothing to earn that. What Bumbly did was his problem. The rat usually visited me only when he wanted to be fed. He had allowed me to scratch him once, but it seemed my abilities in that respect were severely lacking. And he didn't get along well with Scabbers, which was no wonder, seeing how that was Pettigrew. I had given Bumbly express eave to do whatever he liked to Scabbers. Ron was unhappy about that.

Neither Bumblebee and Scabbers were around though, I hoped Bumbly was biting his tail off. "I finished the first book," I told Hermione. " Thought you might want to know."

"You're not really going through with this, are you?"Ron asked incredulous.

"I don't see why not," I shrugged.

He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything else. That meant I could start a decent conversation with Hermione who had a very different view on a lot of things here. I tried to spy for information about her past, but she didn't let anything slip. Not even when I managed to drag Harry into the conversation. Three late muggles discussing the weirdness of the wizarding world. It was amazing to see how much they simply accepted as given.

"But it's not making any sense!" I kept saying. It was almost a catchphrase. And it was true so often. Why parchment and quills? Why no electricity? Why no phones? What would the wizarding world do to keep up with mobiles? The collection of household spells had a lot of useful ideas, like shrinking stuff for travelling, but it said nothing about communication.

Maybe because apparition was so common and you could firecall whenever you wanted? I imagined mobile fireplaces as an equivalent of mobile phone. The snigger earned me curious glances That I managed to deflect. But it was an idea I might try to dell to Fred and George one day. That reminded me of the project of this evening.

"This is for you, Harry." I gave him a piece of parchment.

He unfolded it, read and looked clueless. "What is it?"

"Help for tomorrow," I couldn't help grinning as I got up. "I get the feeling you might need it."

I left him still looking surprised and went to bed. Pulling the curtains closed I began to experiment with the lumos charm. I just hoped the curtains were tight enough, or I might have a lot of worried Slytherins. Though, maybe they just thought I was starting early. Green light spilled from the tip of my wand and refused to do as told. Bother.

* Song is property of Terry Pratchett