Diary of a Hidden Girl
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

Chapter IV : Of Vomit and Voices

Date : 3 September 1992

"So, Harry, what've we got today?" I asked him as I sat down next to him at breakfast. He looked at me strangely.

"Aren't you the one who always memorizes the timetables?" he asked curiously, taking his out.

"Well, of course I am, I'm just quizzing you," I replied. "Today, we have..." My vision glazed over as I pictured the timetable. "Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, Herbology with Professor Sprout, Charms with Professor Flitwick, Lunch Hour, Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lockhart, Potions with Professor Snape. Cue the horrified screams, as all those not infatuated with Lockhart run around like chickens without heads."

Harry looked impressed. "That's right," he replied, replacing his schedule in his bag. "You know, you're probably better off not insulting him if you don't want to spend another night answering his fan mail."

"I guess," I replied with a sigh, taking a piece of toast off Ron's place, who made a protest through his full mouth that sounded so much like, "Mmf," that I chose not to acknowledge him. "So, last class was a pop quiz ending in chaos - for myself, at least - wonder what it's going to be this time?"

"Bet you a Galleon it'll end in chaos," wagered Harry.

"Bet you two he'll demonstrate his incompetence," I countered.

"Harry, Willow, if you're going to gamble on anything, don't make it Professor Lockhart," said Hermione. "He's a perfectly good teacher, he was just offended by Willow's answers to the test."

"I answered as honestly as I could!" I replied, my hands up in a show of surrender.

"I'm sure this next lesson will be enlightening," commented Hermione. "Well, I'm going to go get my books, so I'll see you all in class."

"I'm sure it'll be delightful," I replied sarcastically as she made her way out of the Great Hall. The moment the doors closed behind her, I turned back to Harry. "Ten Galleons he does something stupid that ultimately ends in chaos and proves how stupid he is, Harry, take it or leave it."

"I'll probably regret this," replied Harry, but placed his hand in mine and shook it. I pulled a pouch from my book bag, and gently pulled it open.

"Ten Galleons, in the bag," I said, holding it out to Harry. He put them in, and I placed my own in before handing it to Ron. "Hand this back to me when I win."


"In this class, you will be facing some of your worst fears..." Lockhart was explaining as the class was distracted - whether by his looks or not, none were really paying attention. "Now, I must ask you not to shout... it might... provoke them."

He pulled a sheet off a cage on the desk, and I leaned forward eagerly to see what the creatures were and was sorely disappointed.

"Cornish Pixies?" I asked exasperatedly.

"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies," corrected Lockhart. "Devillish little blighters - let's see what you make of them!"

He swung the door to the cage open, and the pixies flew out, immediately landing on books and tearing out the pages, pulling hair, and generally causing chaos.

I squealed as two of them started to try to rip hairs from my head, my temper flaring as I pulled out my wand. Most of the class, aside from Hermione, Ron, Neville, Harry, and I, seemed to have left the room. I glared at Lockhart, who was pulling the door shut.

"I'll just leave you five to get those back," he said before shutting it. I let all my anger out as I pulled out my wand.

"IMMOBULUS!" I shouted, and immediately, all of the pixies in the room went still. "Now, that felt good," I mumbled, picking one of the small blue creatures out of my hair. Ron, Harry and Neville stared at me.

"How are you so good at Charms?" asked Neville, his tone totally awestruck. I shrugged.

"Natural talent," I replied, carefully starting to replace the pixies in the cage. "My mother was good at Charms, too."

"She was?" asked Harry curiously. I nodded wholeheartedly.

"Top of the year in it," I replied. "She was good at Potions, too. Real good at it. Second best only to our own current Potions master. Now, since all of those are back in their cage, I believe I've won."

Ron shot a glance at Harry, who sighed and nodded. He handed me the coin purse.

"Willow!" exclaimed Hermione. "Didn't I tell you not to gamble?"

"Yes," I replied. "I decided to... take my chances." I grinned. "Double meaning to that, by the way."


Date : 5 September 1992

Three days had passed since I had advised Harry to 'sleep on it,' for ideas, that is, and the only good idea we had come up with was avoiding Colin Creevey and Gilderoy Lockhart to the best of our abilities.

It was early on Saturday morning when the peace was interrupted by my being shaken awake.

"Alicia!" I gasped out, glaring up at the girl who looked as tired as I felt. "What are you doing in here? It's only-" I cast a glance out the window "-the crack of dawn!"

"Oliver's called a practice," she replied.

"A practice for what?" I asked, still rather disheveled due to the general fact that it was too early an hour for any thought to be rational or articulated.

"Quidditch!" replied Alicia. "Remember? You're a Chaser, I'm a Chaser, Wood's the captain..."

"Yes, yes, I remember now," I replied, sitting up. I was on the Quidditch team now - I had made it onto the team back in first year, despite first years generally not being allowed to be on Quidditch teams. At first, I had only been a backup Chaser, but I had been promoted to the position of a regular Chaser - and had only competed in one of the three matches, seeing as I was only a reserve member the first match and unconscious in the Hospital Wing for the second one. "I will be out in a few minutes."


"I am exhausted," I mumbled, leaning my head on Harry's shoulder as we sat in the locker room, listening to Wood introduce new Quidditch plays - well, struggling to pay attention to him and ignore how our bodies still longed for rest.

"Tell me about it," he replied. My eyes widened as suddenly, the blackboard vanished.

"Yes! Finally!" I exclaimed. Wood raised an eyebrow but nonetheless led the way out onto the pitch, where Ron and Hermione were waiting.

"What took so long? Are you done yet?" asked Hermione.

"Haven't even started," replied Harry.

"Oh, bother, trouble at four o'clock," I mumbled, noting seven students in green and silver Quidditch robes coming out onto the pitch - in other words, the Slytherin Quidditch team. Wood, however, was already onto the problem.

"What's this?" he demanded. "I reserved the pitch especially! What's the meaning of this, Flint?!"

"Professor Snape has given us special permission to use the pitch," replied Flint, handing over a note, which Oliver seized and read.

"Need to train your new Seeker?" he mumbled. "Where's this new Seeker, then?"

"Please don't let it be who I think it is," I mumbled as the taller Quidditch players moved aside, revealing the new Seeker. "Damn, I jinxed it, didn't I?"

"Draco Malfoy," replied Flint. "And look what his father's gotten as a gift for the team."

"Nimbus Two Thousand and One's," mumbled Oliver, looking entirely awestruck.

"Much better than some of your members' broomsticks," drawled Malfoy, with a pointed glance at the twins' Cleansweeps.

"At least none of the people on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way onto the team," bit back Ron, his arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah," added Hermione. "Everyone on our team got in pure talent."

"Nobody asked your opinion," spat Malfoy. "Why don't you just shut up, you filthy Mudblood?"

"Oh, that's it, Malfoy," I said, shoving my broomstick into Harry's arm and pulling my wand out.

"Everybody back away from her," warned Hermione to the Gryffindor team, who all moved back a couple steps.

"Slugulus Eructo!" I said, pointing my wand at Malfoy and stumbling a bit from the knockback of the Slug-Vomiting Charm.

"What's that do?" asked Harry quietly, looking at the boy, who lay on the ground, his face considerably greener than it had been before. As if in response, he suddenly flipped over as a slug came out of his mouth. Satisfied, I turned away.

"You're bloody scary sometimes," mumbled one of the twins, but both were wearing identical grins.

"You haven't seen nothing," I replied, casting a glance back over my shoulder.


"What's Mudblood mean?" asked Hermione as we walked back up to the castle.

"You don't want to know," I replied. Upon her insistent gaze, I sighed. "It's a really foul word for someone who's Muggleborn - it literally means 'dirty blood.'"

"But that's awful!" exclaimed Hermione. "It's bigoted, and racist, and discriminatory-"

"I told you you wouldn't want to know," I replied, cutting her off. "Hey, Ron, where's Ginny nowadays?"

"Ginny?" repeated Ron. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I hear she can cast a wicked Bat Bogey Hex," I replied. The other three all turned to look at me.

"No. More. Hexes."


"I have detention tonight," announced Harry to Hermione, Ron, and I as we sat on the couches in the common room doing homework - well, at least on mine and Hermione's part as Ron tried to peek off our work and Harry just sat, doing nothing up until his abrupt announcement.

"Who with?" I asked curiously.

"Lockhart," he replied with a grimace. I gasped melodramatically.

"Not the Gilderoy Lockhart!" I cried. "Oh, my dear Harry, I am so very sorry for your horrid hardships."

"Oh, he can't be that bad, can he?" asked Hermione. Harry, Ron and I all turned to look at her.

"Have you even met the man, Hermione?" asked Ron. "He is the most arrogant."

"Most self-centered," added Harry.

"Most overbearing," supplied Ron.

"Presumptuous egomaniac," I finished.


"How was it?" I asked as Harry entered the common room at an hour dangerously close to mine of just three nights ago.

"Hell. Torture. The list goes on," he replied, throwing himself onto the couch. "Why'd you stay up?"

"Felt like it," I replied, holding out my hand and observing my nails. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You really can read me like a book," commented Harry. I shrugged in response. "While I was doing detention, I... I heard a voice."

"I knew it!" I exclaimed automatically.

"Knew what?" asked Harry confusedly.

"You've always been crazy," I replied triumphantly. He groaned.

"It's not funny, Holly," he said. "I'm not kidding. I heard this voice... it was almost like hissing..."

"Snakes are talking to you," I declared dramatically.

"Please, just take me seriously for once? I'm not lying," sighed Harry.

"Alright, I won't make fun of you," I replied. "What did the voice say?"

"It was high and eerie, and it was saying, 'Come to me... let me rip you apart...' and other stuff like that," replied Harry. I stared at him blankly.

"Okay. You hear a voice that sounds like a snake that wants to eat flesh?" I asked for confirmation. "Did Lockhart hear it?"

"No," replied Harry. "He just carried on like nothing had happened."

"Odd," I mumbled, tapping a finger to my chin. "Alright, I've narrowed it down to three possibilities. Option one : You're going mad and hearing voices. Option two : Lockhart is hard of hearing. Option three : It's something else and I'm going to need to look into it."

"Well, I know for sure that it's not the first or second one," replied Harry.

"Alright, I'll look it up in the library," I replied, getting up and making for the portrait hole. I quickly turned around in my tracks. "After I go to bed."

A/N : That's right, you can't look it up after curfew. Silly Holly.