Chapter One: Dear Old Shiz

Ozian (male):

(spoken)

Glinda! Is it true - were you her friend?!

GLINDA:

(spoken)

Well - it depends on what you mean by "friend." I did

know her. That is, our paths did cross. At school:

STUDENTS:

O hallowed halls and vine-draped walls

The proudliest sight there is (Male: Sight there is)

When grey and sere our hair hath turned

We shall still revere the lessons learned

(Females)In our days at dear old Shiz (Males: dear old Shiz)

Our days at dear old

GALINDA:

Oh-oh-oh-oh-ol:

STUDENTS AND GALINDA:

Dear old Shiz-zzzz

Lavender Brown closed her trunk carefully and levitated it back up to the rack. The Levitation charm had been one of the first things she had mastered this morning. She had arrived at ten o'clock, in order to get the best compartment on the train of course, but also to practice magic. The Browns always strived to be ahead of the curves and Lavender fully intended to live up to the family legacy.

Lavender pulled out a mirror from her purse and surveyed herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair was curled to perfection, her skin clear, her make-up perfectly applied. Perfect. She snapped the mirror shut and put it away neatly in her purse.

The compartment door slid open and a fat man who resembled a walrus appeared in the doorway.

"My, my! Looks like the Slug Club compartment already has an occupant," he chuckled. He had a thick mustache, a very red face, and he was enormously fat.

"Oh, this is your compartment?" Lavender mustered her most unaffected air.

"Why yes, my dear. I am Professor Slughorn, head of Slytherin and the Potions Master at Hogwarts. And what's your name? You must be a first-year."

"I'm Lavender Brown." She extended a manicured hand for him to shake.

"Well, Ms. Brown, you wouldn't mind sharing the compartment with us?"

"I suppose not," she sighed and readied herself to return her attention to the magazine.

What happened next almost gave her a heart attack.

Slughorn had whipped out his wand and did an elaborate wave. The compartment grew to ten times its original size. Students began to pile into the compartment and before she knew it, lunch had been served and she had ended sitting right next to the horrid old man.

"So, Lavender, what house do you think that you will be in?" he asked her while he tucked into a pheasant leg that Lavender thought he really didn't need.

"Gryffindor, of course," she said. She flipped her hair back and took a dainty bite of her finger sandwich. "It's the best out of all the houses."

"Oh ho! You really think so? You might want to change your answer!"

She gave him a rather patronizing smile. "I'm sure."

"Well, I can't begrudge your preference I guess! I am the Head of Slytherin though, you know."

"I know. You told me already." She patted her mouth free of crumbs.

Slughorn studied her intensely for a minute. "You look like an intelligent and well educated girl. Please, tell me, what are your views on the new set of Restrictions being placed on Half-bloods and Muggle-borns?"

"I have no view. They don't affect me at all," Lavender said, rather cruelly.

The professor looked shocked. "But, they affect those around you! Have you no sympathy?"

"I know no Muggle-borns and very few half-bloods," Lavender told him primly.

"Ms. Brown," he said, all the more urgently, i"I/i am a Half-blood! What about me? Should I be barred from teaching here?"

"You are still here," Lavender remarked dryly.

"But many of my colleagues from other schools are not! I may be next!"

"How frightening for you," Lavender said primly and bit into her sandwich.

"Have you no compassion for others, Ms. Brown?" Professor Slughorn asked, flabbergasted.

"I am very concerned!" Lavender was offended. "These new laws could hurt the economy greatly!"

Professor Slughorn leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a stare. He was obviously a man who had fallen on hard times. His stomach, while still rotund, looked somehow lacking and the lines on his face looked worried and affronted. He was clearly a man who was used to having everything his way and was now faced with the harsh reality of a new order. If Lavender had been somewhat intelligent, she would have noticed this, but being shallow-headed as she was, all this escaped her notice as she sat in relative comfort in the compartment, happy with the bubble of life that surrounded her.

Hermione looked up at the toad-like woman, with a look of incredulity.

"I'm afraid that I can't do that, ma'am," she said calmly. She knew these types. They had to be handled carefully less they explode, spreading their sickly sweet poison all over you.

"And I'm afraid that you don't understand me," the woman said back. "I'm a professor here, and you're going to do as I say."

"Where's Professor McGonagall, Professor Umbridge?" Hermione demanded. "She'll settle this. She knows."

"Just give it to me!" Professor Umbridge snapped.

"No!" Hermione's hand covered the offending charm protectively. It was a silver charm hammered into the shape of a wolf howling a crescent moon and for some reason, it was offending the toady teacher.

"Ms. Granger!" Professor Umbridge said warning.

"Is there a problem here?" Professor McGonagall asked. She appeared rather frazzled, the source of her frustration hot on her heels. A petite, blonde girl, her mouth open in silent protest, kept tugging at her sleeves and impeding her progress towards the bickering teacher and student.

"Ms. Granger here is refusing to remove her vulgar, highly inappropriate necklace," Umbridge simpered. She slapped away Hermione's fingers and grabbed her charm necklace and dragged her over to the Headmistress.

The blonde girl raised her eyebrows condescendingly and sniffed. "Pretty."

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows knitted together in frustration and anger. "And what, pray tell me, is wrong with this charm?"

"That's a werewolf," Professor Umbridge stated blandly as if Professor McGonagall was simple.

"I see that," she said tartly. "But I also see nothing wrong with it. So, if you would please release Ms. Granger—"

"She's just promoting filthy ideals! She'll pollute the school with her half-breed friendly mind-set!" Professor Umbridge snarled.

"And you are polluting it with your closed-minded prejudice." Professor McGonagall smiled patronizingly. "Are we done, here, Dolores?"

Umbridge's pudgy fingers slowly relinquished their hold on the necklace and Hermione backed up a few paces from the crazed teacher.

"Very well," she sneered. "I'll escort the little half-blood to the Great Hall."

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened at the insult directed at Hermione, but Hermione ignored it and stood listless and bored.

"Take Ms. Brown with you," she said briskly.

"But, Professor—" Lavender protested.

"Not another word out of you, Ms. Brown!" McGonagall snapped. She turned on her heel and quickly left the scene before things started to heat up again.

The three walked to the hall in total silence for a while before Lavender asked, "Are you really a half-blood?"

"Yes. Why?" Hermione's chin went up defiantly.

"Oh."

The word dripped with distain.

When they reached the Great Hall, they joined the huddle of first years waiting to enter and be sorted. Lavender quickly joined a group of gossiping girls, but Hermione stood on the sidelines talking to no one and looking generally unfriendly.

"Look at her clothes!" Parvati, a very pretty brunette with Indian heritage and piercing eyes, whispered meanly. "They look like she got them out of a second-hand shop!"

"She probably did," Parvati's twin, Padma, whispered. She was identical to Parvati in every way, and the two were only distinguishable by their hair barrettes that kept their plaits neat.

"Her hair makes me want to donate it to poor family of rats who needs a home," Lavender said in an undertone and the others giggled.

"She's like the anti-girl," she continued. "And she's a half-blood. It's like she wants to be this weird!"

"She's a half-blood?" the Parvati gasped.

"I know," Lavender said cruelly. She motioned and all the girls leaned in to hear what juicy piece of gossip she was going to drop next. "Does the name, "Malfoy" sound familiar to you?"

Padma, Parvati and two other girls, Elizabeth Seton and Audrey Hoxton inhaled sharply.

"No…" a petite red haired girl said disbelievingly.

"Her mother was the Pureblood slut of the family. No morals or family values whatsoever, apparently," Lavender continued. "She ran away from her family to marry a Muggle and had her. That's not even all of it—her mother was next in line to inherit and she still is! And if Mrs. Malfoy—Granger now I guess—dies, then that little half-blood thing inherits it all!"

The other girls shared looks of disgust and outrage. "That thing is going to inherit the largest fortune in England?" Pansy Parkinson spat.

"First years, please get in a line!" Professor McGonagall was back. The girls stopped their conversation and lined up, only pausing to glare at Hermione, who cowered beneath their sudden hatred and slunk to the end of the line.

The Sorting went very quickly and the feast even more so. The whole ordeal bored Lavender to no end, so when the boring Prefect with the awful fashion sense led Lavender to her dorm Lavender went gladly.

Lavender thought that it was rather odd that her room had five beds but ignored it and plopped onto her bed. She took out her diary which she took e everywhere with her and started a new list.

People I Know

Gryffindor:

Parvati Patil. We're going to be best friends. I, of course, will be the more popular one, but she really doesn't have a say in that.

Elizabeth Seton. Nice enough, but not as pretty as Parvati and I, and not nearly as smart. The girl should know that pink socks are last season.

Audrey Hoxton. Rich, but dull. She should be useful when we go to Hogsmeade.

Hermione Granger.

A knock at her door cut her off.

"This isn't you're your room, Lavender!" a sharp voice called out.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lavender called back lazily.

"It's a dormitory, dim wit. We need somewhere to sleep too!"

"Well then, you should've had your daddy pay for your private room also," Lavender yelled back, miffed. It had to be Hermione yelling at her. None of the other girls would've dared to defy her.

"It's not a private room! There's no such thing!"

"Yes, there is!" Lavender shouted. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed!"

"Let us in!"

"No!"

"FINE!"

Lavender put her journal on the nightstand and was about to unbutton her blouse when there was huge bang and the door burst open and fell down the ground. On the other side, Hermione stood with her wand up. The other girls looked scandalized behind her.

"How dare you!" Lavender shrieked. "This is MY room!"

She grabbed her wand off the nightstand and pointed it at Hermione. The wand went off with a similar bang and Hermione went flying. Lavender looked down in surprise, but then brushed it away. Of course she was a natural! She was a Brown!

"Go away, ugly, before I kick your butt," Lavender commanded. "This room is a weirdo-free zone."

"If you want to play it that way, fine," Hermione laughed. She aimed her wand at Lavender and yelled, "Confringo!"

It was Lavender's turn to hit the wall. After picking herself off the ground she copied Hermione's wand movement and shouted the blasting spell right back at her.

Hermione dodged it and the spell broke off a part of the doorframe instead. The girls screamed and ran for the common room.

Hermione just screamed in retaliation and an unnamed spell burst out of her wand and hit Lavender straight in the face. Her face turned motley brown and pink that made Hermione burst into a fit of giggles just to look at. This infuriated Lavender even more and they the two let go into a wild battle of unlearned magic. Sparks flew everywhere and chips of wood and stone flew with each missed curse.

The two girls had by then almost ditched their wands and gone for physical combat when Professor Umbridge burst into the room and cast a Protego between the two of them.

"Now, girls," she simpered. "What seems to be the problem now?"

"She broke into my room!" Lavender accused.

"This is the girls' dormitory, Ms. Brown." Even Professor Umbridge seemed taken aback.

"No, it's my room," Lavender whined.

"Ms. Brown, this is a shared dormitory. There are no private rooms at Hogwarts, I can assure you."

"Shared?" Lavender's voice rose several octaves. "But I've never shared a room before!"

"Well you do now," Professor Umbridge said rather cruelly.

Professor McGonagall strode into the room with Elizabeth, Parvati and Audrey trailing behind her.

"What is going on here?" Professor McGonagall drew herself up to her full height.

Lavender was quick to blame Hermione. "She started it!" She pointed an accusing finger at the offending female.

"The dimwit thought that the girls' dormitory was for her own, sole, selfish use!" Hermione protested. "Some of us would prefer to sleep elsewhere than the common room couch! But I suppose it's not really her fault," she paused to fix a look of mock sympathy on her face. "Such selfishness is only to be expected of the rich and spoiled blonde Purebloods of the world."

Lavender was at Hermione's side as quick as a flash and with her face purple with rage—and brown and pink also, the spell hadn't worn off yet—slapped Hermione clear across the face.

Hermione gasped in outrage before pulling back and giving Lavender a black one in the eye.

"ENOUGH!" Both Professor McGonagall and Professor Umbridge were shocked and outraged.

"Dolores, clean up this mess and get the girls into bed. You two, with me." Professor McGonagall strode out of the girls' dormitory so fast Lavender and Hermione had to run in order to keep up with her.

The fire in the common room was dying down, but with a flick of her wand, McGonagall restored it to life again.

"I have never seen such immature and inappropriate behavior from two girls such as yourselves in my life," she began, her eyes blazing. "It sickens me to my very core to see two Gryffindors in such discord on the very first day of term! This ishall not/i be tolerated. We are Gryffindors and we are strong because we work together. As a team." Lavender and Hermione had the grace at least to look ashamed and apologetic before going back to staring at the floor again.

"I can't force you two to get along with each other, but I can make you learn to," she said sternly. "Until you can settle this, this shameful feud you two have going on between you, you are henceforth banished from the girls' dormitories." Lavender gave a small cry of dismay before starting to quietly sob into her hands. "You are not allowed to sleep there, change there, or have any kind of permanent fixture there."

"But where will we sleep?" Lavender cried.

"In here." McGonagall walked over to a painting in the corner and tapped it once. It immediately sprang to life and the occupants began bickering. Looking closer, Hermione could see a sturdily built irate looking woman was bickering with her portrait mate.

"LOOK HERE, IRIS!" The irate looking woman screamed. "I'll have none of that nonsense! Did you, or did you not sleep with Tom McKinnon from down the hall?"

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BLEEDIN' BUSINESS, JANE!" Iris screeched right back. She was rather pretty and seductive looking— but if she was put in the context of the real world, Hermione had no doubt in her mind that the lady would definitely be mistaken for a prostitute. Her dress was extremely low cut and her face heavily done; she was a stark contrast to the plain Jane across from her. Jane was handsome in her own way. Her face was honest, but scheming.

"Girls, meet your monitors." McGonagall's voice cut above the din. "Their reconciliation depends on yours. When the monitors have truly stopped fighting, you will be allowed back into the girls' dormitories."

"So, you're saying, that as long as we fight, they will too?" Hermione queried.

"Yes, exactly right."

"That's brilliant," she breathed. She stepped up to the portrait and skimmed the canvas with her fingers. "Absolutely fantastic… who designed this?"

Professor McGonagall looked taken aback. She had been expecting protests and crying, not this complete fascination from Hermione. "I'm—I'm not sure."

"That's a shame. They must have been a brilliant painter and Charms worker," Hermione commented. "So, how do we get in, Professor?"

"There will be a password in the form of a question every time you wish to access the room. Like this." McGonagall stepped up to the portrait.

"I wish to enter," she said.

"Alright then," Iris said, and the two ceased their bickering for a moment.

"See if you can solve this one: it is greater than God and more evil than the devil. The poor have it, the rich need it and if you eat it you'll die. What is it?"

Lavender's mouth fell open in shock. "But it's so hard!

"Nonsense, I think it's quite simple really," Hermione said and she answered the portrait.

"Nothing. Nothing is greater than God, nothing is more evil than the devil, the poor have nothing, the rich need nothing and if you eat nothing you'll die."

"Correct," said Jane and the portrait swung open to admit them.

"Very good, Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall said impressed.

"But what about me?" Lavender whined. "I'm absolute rubbish at all that logic stuff."

"Then I suggest that you learn fast," Professor McGonagall said tartly. "Or you may find yourself more dependant on Ms. Granger than you'd like. And after your horrendous behavior towards her, I'm not sure that she might be feeling all that generous."

McGonagall let the words sink into an already horrified Lavender before continuing.

"It's eleven o'clock now, I suggest that you ladies prepare yourselves for bed immediately if you want to be fresh for your classes tomorrow morning." And without further ado, she left the Gryffindor common room.

"Don't even think about talking to me right now," Lavender snarled. "This is all your fault!"

"It's your idiocy that got us here in the first place," Hermione countered. "Stupid blonde."

"Ignorant half-blood!"

"Petty princess!"

The two of them stood glaring at each other for a minute before Hermione pushed past Lavender.

"Let's just see the bloody room."

The room was decorated similarly to the girls' dormitory. It was the same size and shape, but instead of five four-poster beds, there were two larger ones and only two windows. It was slightly more luxurious and newer than the girls' dormitory however. The beds were bigger and less worn down, the floor was shiny, new and unscratched, and everything was either dark hardwood or red and gold.

"I suppose that this is the consolation prize," Hermione said dully.

"Not too much of a consolation if you ask me," Lavender said.

"I didn't." Hermione plopped down on the bed further away from the portrait door, which looked like a normal door from the inside of the room. "I want this one."

"And I want this one."

"Finally, something we can agree on," Hermione moaned. She fell back onto her bed.

"Listen, we can figure out a way to tolerate each other later. Right now, I need some beauty rest." Lavender pulled out her compact to inspect her face. She screamed in horror.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"What? You don't like it?" Hermione asked innocently.

"What spell did you use?" Lavender was horrified.

"I don't really know, actually. I saw my mother use it on our neighbor one day. I didn't actually hear the incantation, I just saw what it did."

"And what does it do, other than turn my face different colors?" Lavender shrieked.

"It hexes your face the color that you're feeling at the moment," Hermione told her. "From the brown, red and purple I would say that you were feeling very violent, angry, and hurt when I hexed you. Ah! And look! Now you're turning green and scarlet! That's envy and rage, I believe," she said nonchalantly.

"I hate you," Lavender seethed.

"Imagine how embarrassing it will be for you the next day when you have to go to classes looking like that." Hermione relished in the thought of an enraged and embarrassed Lavender looking like an red and green avocado for the rest of the day.

"At least mine will go away. Too bad for you—dirty blood never does, does it?" Lavender gave Hermione her cruelest smile before walking into the bathroom.

Hermione was glad that she shut the door. The tears that poured down her face were one defeat that she did not want Lavender to see.