Harry Potter and the Purple Bullseye

by goddessofspite

It is well known that Muggles would never stand a chance in a fight against a fully trained adult Wizard. Right? Unless, of course, they used MUGGLE ways of fighting back... like, say, oh... snapping a certain Dark Lord's wand in half? Can you say "oops"

10. United: A Muggle Offence Part 1

Ahoy, maties!

Actually I don't feel very chipper right now, I'm down right exhausted. SO sorry about how long it took to churn this chapter out. I had a full time job that took a lot out of me this summer though it was a fantastic job and I AM ETERNALLY GREATFUL PLEASE GOD DON'T STRIKE ME DEAD. ANd i was in denial for a long, long time about me getting the whole trial and Sarah's big moment and everything all out in one chapter. But then I hit my 60 page mark and Katie, forever my wonderful Beta reader, handed me my Prozac and talked me into splitting the exciting events into TWO chapters instead of one. So for those of you wondering why I don't write shorter chapters...I am. But my shorter chapters are now getting as big as my big ones used to be! (Cries a little) Ehem. No matter. (Wipes bleeding fingers on PJ pants).

I'd love to thank Jon for reading the first half of this and of course no amount of thanks will ever express the glee I feel everytime my Beta reader, Katie, screams with happy laughter. That's when I know I must be doing something right:)

So enjoy!

Peace, Love and Semi-Automatic Riffles,

Spite

P.S This chapter and the next one are dedicated to Sarah, first for a belated birthday, and second for the nasty scare the got at the doctor's the other day. Love you, Babé.

Chapter 10. United: A Muggle Offence (Part 1)

It had rained heavily all afternoon, working it's way into the early evening; but as the muggles lounged on Hogwarts' front stairs, enjoying the post-fight lull, the drip ceased, momentarily splitting the heavens in a great, glowing crack through which the red and pink sunset seeped like strawberry syrup.

Sarah took a deep drag on her fag and past it generously to Donia who silently received it and took her one and only taste of it.

"Sarah," sighed Steph.

"Yeah, yeah," replied Sarah dismissively, but she took the cigarette back.

They sat together in silence, leaning back on their elbows or resting their heads back on arms folded like pillows beneath their skulls. Katie was actually curled up on her stomach, chin in her left hand, looking up thoughtfully at the forbidding face of the castle and seeing it in a new light.

"So," said Donia, appearing to speak to no one in particular. "Do you have a plan?"

"I'm starting to get one," Jess murmured, running her hand under her nose and staring when it came away bloody. "I'm not sure it'll work, though. It requires electricity…"

"That won't be a problem for much longer." said Steph, dabbing lightly at a gash on her forehead.

"You're dealing with that, then, are you?" Donia tenderly put her hand up and felt the swollen circumference of her freshest black eye.

"Oh yes."

"Good. That leaves me to deal with the courtroom stuff," said Jess, pinching the bridge of her nose and leaning her head back in a half-assed attempt to staunch the flow. "I might need help…"

"I'll help," mused Katie airily. She was still looking up at the castle serenely, as she curiously poked at her swollen, torn lip, morbidly fascinated by the sharp pain it supplied.

"Thanks," Jess looked up at Gryffindor thankfully, before turning back to the sunset beyond the great lake. "What are you two going to be up to?" she asked the air in general.

A cloud scuttled across the waning sun, as if to hide it's shameful orangey-pinkness.

"Draco," said Donia casually. "I want my supper soup to be that boy's blood, sweat and tears."

"Yeah," mused Sarah, letting out a puff of smoke in consecutive rings and enjoying the vengeful throb of her twisted ankle. "Yeah. We'll handle the Slytherins."

Rain began to dribble again, in a heavy, insistent 'whoosh'.

Sarah's Uncle Alfred was doing the last of his fall gardening, taking advantage of the soft soil (it had rained, the previous evening), when an owl, an honest-to-goodness Screech owl, landed next to him, in his Begonias, and lifted it's left leg to indicate the roll of oddly textured paper tied there.

It was a letter from his niece, Sarah. It read:

Dear Uncle Alfie,

How are you? How are the Begonias? I hope you're doing well. How's your parole officer? I hope he's a nice one, this time. Are you allowed to travel abroad yet? You'd wanted to go to Greece with Butch, the last time we'd spoken.

How is Butch? Have you had your seventh year anniversary yet? I think it's absolutely adorable that he had your name tattooed on his right buttock, despite what Mother and Father say about it being vulgar. I hope his parole officer's nice too.

As you've probably heard through the family grape vine, by now ( or not, considering that no one else really talks to you in our family) I've managed to get myself into a witness protection program of sorts. And I'm only seventeen! Yeah, I know; I make you proud.

The crux is, they've put me and my friends in this institute for our protection but it's a lot like prison in that we don't get everything we want a lot of the time and the other, older inmates kids tend to want to break us in, if you know what I mean. So, I was wondering if you could send me and my friends a few things to tide us over while we're here, on the 'inside'. We're going to need batteries, walkie-talkies, six packets of cigarettes, ten bags of Columbian coffee from Starbucks (dark blend), four male black wigs, one male platinum blond wig, three black female wigs of varying length, a digital video camera and if you could send us bundles and bundles of your strongest home grown 'leaf oregano', that would be highly appreciated too. I know your parole officer can't know your growing this stuff, and that it's the main source of your income besides the free-lance work Butch does on the side, so I promise it won't fall into any of the wrong hands.

Thanks a bunch, Uncle Alfie. I always knew you were awesome.

Love,

Little Sorcha.

Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, enjoying the sour tang of an acid pop when he heard the thunderous stomping of angry feet rushing up the stairway to his room.

Before he could do more than take a second to muse over who'd lost it all together already, this morning, his door exploded open, swung violently into the wall behind it and bounced closed with a reverberating slam that seemed to threaten the very foundations of his office.

There was a silence as he gave the enraged beast time to recuperate after taking those stair three at a time. Then, Professor Dumbledore said (still clutching his acid pop), "Good morning, Miss Lalon-"

"DON'T 'GOOD MORNING' ME!"

"Very well. Would you like an acid pop?" the Headmaster opened a little wooden cigar box in front of him, which incidentally turned out to be full of acid pops, lined up side by side.

Steph stared at him, taken off guard. "What-? No! NO! Don't offer me stuff! I'm here to demand stuff! So don't offer it to me!"

"Suit yourself; they're good acid pops," Dumbledore leaned back in his plush chair and looked at the distraught girl over his neon green lolli. "So….demand away."

Steph felt her stomach knot and seethe. How dare he pretend like it was all good and done when she knew perfectly well that the moment she demanded what she wanted to demand it would be over! The calm façade would disappear and he'd be roaring at her to get out of his office!

"I demand electricity in this cesspit of a school!" she shrieked, fists balled by her sides.

"Done!" cried Dumbledore enthusiastically.

"I can't understand what possessed you to bring muggles into an environment where we are so effectively crippled by the lack of working technology!" continued Steph enraged.

"Precisely!" cheered Dumbledore, bringing his fist down on his desk. "I'm surprised it took you so long!"

"I…what?"

"I'll get Professor Vector on it right away! Anything else while you're here and demanding?"

Steph glared. Was it just her imagination or was there an amused twinkle in those ancient, patient eyes? She had the sudden feeling that maybe she wasn't the only student, magical or otherwise, who had ever exploded into the Headmaster's office.

"Miss Lalonde-?"

"Yes, I have something else to say!"

"And what might that b-"

"We'll be going to classes from now on so DON'T TRY TO STOP US!"

With that, she left his office, slamming the door shut behind her again so that the paintings of past Headmistresses and Masters of Hogwarts swung slightly in the breeze it made. The characters inside the frames gripped their chairs desperately or went chasing after toppled hats and effects, protesting the quality of student coming in through the school, these days.

"Wouldn't dream of it." murmured Dumbledore, thoughtfully suckling on his acid pop.

Steph was quite flustered as she descended the moving staircase from Dumbledore's office. She stepped out beyond the archway and the frowning stone gargoyle, which had been expressly made to stand guard against intruders of said nature, pounced back into place, preventing further trespass.

"So?" said Donia peeling herself apart from one of the more shadowy crevices and advancing forward to greet her friend. She dragged a quivering first year Ravenclaw with her; her fist was twisted chokingly in the eleven-year-old's shirtfront. "How did it go?"

The first year whimpered helplessly.

"Quiet, you." mumbled Donia giving the little quivering blob of jelly a couple of firm shakes.

"It was…." Steph paused to think. How WAS it, exactly? She certainly hadn't expected to get as far as she had so fast. "….surprisingly easy, actually…."

Donia grinned devilishly, effortlessly forgetting the first year who was turning blue in the face and trying to claw her way out of the towering sixteen-year-old's grip. "Bet you scared him half to death."

Steph raised a cynical eyebrow. "Says the girl who's got a firsty by the throat."

Donia looked confused. "What? Oh!" She turned to the first year and grabbed the little thing with both hands, lifting the poor child clean off her feet.

"Now listen…thingy…."said the Slytherin as the first year cycled in midair and dangled helplessly. "You've done a massively good job telling us the Headmaster's password, so I'm not going to hurt you. At least, not now. But you're going to keep yourself available, do you hear? So long as you're co-operative, your safety's guaranteed. Disappear on me, kid, and I promise you, I'll find you. And when I find you, I'll make it so you can't ever be found. Got it?"

The little thing, with big, desperate eyes, and frazzled pigtails bobbed its head nervously.

"Good answer. Now fuck off." Donia put her down and sure enough, the firsty scuttle off like a pack of dragons were after her.

Steph watched in fascination before saying, "What career choice do you see yourself alighting upon after school?"

Donia shrugged, then put her hands in her pockets as they strolled on down to breakfast together. "Debt collection." she mused, then began to whistle lightly.

All the nurses that had seen their life's work within the Infirmary at Hogwarts had always had a secret door which led straight to the Headmaster's office, for use in times of emergency. This door was quite miraculous simply because, architecturally, the Head Master's office and the Infirmary were on opposite ends of the castle.

Madame Pomfrey had used her secret door many times since Harry Potter's induction into this school, but she had not anticipated its use this early in the year. Only October, and already she was stepping into the broom closet in her own office.

Madame Pomfrey stuck her arms out in front of her face, feeling subconsciously for the familiar gritty feel of the back of her closet. Her fingers hit the splintery surface and descended to grip a well worn, ancient doorknob in the darkness. Without a second thought, she twisted it, causing the back of the closet to swing open into Dumbledore's brightly lit office, with his whirring knick-knacks and ticking timers.

The Headmaster pulled his acid pop out of his mouth and turned to face the grey-haired matron stepping out of his cupboard.

"Poppy," he greeted her pleasantly.

She had something very important to tell him, but it flew out of her mind completely upon seeing the open box of acid pops on his desk.

"Albus!" she pointed at the sweets. "Are those yours?"

Dumbledore's face betrayed no emotion as he strove to think of the best answer to give. Madame Pomfrey, experienced in dealing with greedy children, was not fooled.

"How many of those have you had today?" she demanded.

Dumbledore sighed. "Too many, I fear."

"More than four?" she brandished her finger at him.

"I believe this is my sixth…"

"You mustn't have any more, Albus; you'll get a toothache, and I have much more important things to attend to at the moment."

"I'm sorry, Poppy, of course you do. The last thing I intend to do is add to your workload, which, I am guessing, is why you're here. Has it increased noticeably?"

"Yes."

"Already?"

"Yes."

"But it's October."

"Tell that to your students, Professor!"

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Poppy. What's happened?" Dumbledore rose from his seat and approached his agitated employee.

Madame Pomfrey sighed wearily and took a moment to compose herself before commencing. "I think you better come have a look."

Steph and Donia strolled into the Great Hall together, the Slytherin muggle still whistling a dandy, her hands in her pockets. Steph was actively fluffing her hair attractively and neither of them gave any notice to the jeering that erupted upon their entry. They merely kept walking to the Gryffindor table where Sarah, Katie and Jess sat with Harry, Hermione and Ron.

This vision of a unified front surprised the sneering Ravenclaws so much that the noise abruptly ceased. The muggles seemed too comfortably unfrazzled for five fugitives who were on the point of being tossed out of school. What did this mean? And WHY was the Gryffindor muggle snogging RON WEASLEY!

"Top o' the morning to you, ladies," said Steph as she and Donia took their places at the table.

"Hi," said Sarah.

Katie and Ron stopped sucking face for one glowing moment where they turned with a "Hello!". She and he had been holding hands like they were glued together since he'd been released from Madame Pomfrey's that morning.

Jess, who was having a very involved conversation with Harry, turned to smile and wave before continuing her conversation.

"Those two plotting to keep us in school?" asked Steph sitting with her back to the table and her legs stretched outside the bench to observe the Great Hall.

"Yeah," said Sarah, currently distracted by what the Slytherin was up to.

Donia had straddled the bench in a very unladylike fashion; she stole a piece of toast off Ron's plate ( he was too busy to notice) and pulled Katie's hot chocolate towards herself.

"That's not yours," said Sarah.

"Neither's oxygen, but no one seems to mind me breathing it." shrugged Donia through a mouthful.

"I mind you breathing it, muggle," said a sneering voice from behind them.

They'd only been at Hogwarts for three weeks, now and already they had no trouble identifying Draco's tenor.

Donia didn't even flinch. "My God, Sarah, do you hear that squeaking?"

Sarah looked very confused. "Why yes, Donia. Yes I do. I do hear squeaking, what could it be?"

Donia: "Sounds like Hogwarts might have a bad ferret infestation, to me…"

Several of the eavesdropping Gryffindors sniggered.

"Muggle-" began Draco threateningly.

"Sod off to your own table, Malfoy," Harry said shortly.

Draco gave him a superior glare. "Why don't you try and make me, Pott-"

Someone from the Slytherin table dropped an entire tray of charbroiled sausages with a loud crash that seemed to betoken disaster. Sausages were flying and bouncing everywhere. Lars, who'd been reading, had his book and spectacles spattered all over with milk and remained staring at the roll of meat in his goblet for quite sometime in total and utter surprise.

Quite a few of them had toppled right into Blaise Zabini's lap so she was currently on her feet swearing at everyone in sight like an enraged banshee.

Quite a few of the Professors were staring at the Slytherins with expressions that betokened a thankfulness that they weren't the heads of that house.

Snape didn't even seem to notice. He continued eating his breakfast, unfazed.

Jon's voice could be plainly heard over the rest of the Slytherin babble, crying, "Oh dearie me, woops-a-daisies, balderdash, oh woe, oh woe. I've dropped the sausages! I tried to grab as many as I could! I mean I love grabbing sausages just as much as the next bloke, eh, Draco?"

Draco, looking suddenly very tired, rolled his eyes in annoyance and quickly doubled back to his table.

"That was bizarre." remarked Ginny.

"Why's Donia laughing?" wondered Dean Thomas.

Harry watched Draco go with an openly irritated expression. "I don't think of myself as a callous person, but sometimes I'd really just like to rearrange his face…"

"Please don't," said Jess spreading peanut butter on a bun. "Donny will cry."

"I thought she hated him."

"She does," Jess bit into a bun. "Loathes him with every fibre of her being. But she wants his face intact when she hangs his head over her fireplace."

Jess reached for the black current jam.

A shadow fell across the black current jam.

"Hello Harry."

Jess, who still had her hand on the black current jam jar and wasn't looking, heard something hit the floor and felt splashes of something cold drench her leg; Harry had apparently dropped his goblet of orange juice.

"Ch-ch-ch-ch-"

"Cho! Hello," said Jess on Harry's behalf.

Cho looked startled for a second. She didn't appear to have seen Jess sitting there. For a moment the muggle felt slightly insulted, until a look of utter horror and panic flitted across Cho Chang's face and the Ravenclaw bent down and wrapped her arms around the redhead.

"Oh Jess! JESS!"

Jess was a bit startled by this show of…well…affection? Distress? Both? She looked at her friends over Cho Chang's shoulder, wondering if they knew something she didn't.

Steph looked surprised and Katie looked worried, Ron looked downright irritable, Hermione looked nervous, Sarah looked utterly confused and Donia….Donia was dramatically miming emotional weeping and silently mouthing, "Oh Jeeeesss! Jeeeeeessss…!" before flinging her head back, wrist to forehead, and promptly pretending to faint into Steph's lap.

Steph, who'd looked fairly taken-aback by Cho's reaction to Jess, looked equally taken-aback at finding Donia's head in her lap.

"Err…Hi….Cho?" Jess patted the distraught Ravenclaw on the back soothingly.

"Are you alright?" asked Harry sharply, his face drained of colour with worry.

"Knickers in a twist again, Cho ChaAAAAAAOOOOOWWWWWW!" tears sprung up in Donia's eyes as she glared furiously at Katie. "Dammit, Dubois! I thought we'd discussed kicking under tables!" she yelled.

The Gryffindor muggle stared back at her dispassionately and pointed at the cup in Donia's hand. "Is that my hot chocolate?"

"Shhhhhshshhhhhh!" whispered Sarah and Steph, both cooperating in pushing Donia's head, face first, down onto the table.

"Guys! I'm not a fucking ostrich! I won't just go to sleep if you-mmmmph! Mmmrrmph! Fine…" She surrendered with an exasperated sigh, muffled against the grainy surface of the breakfast table.

Cho pulled away from Jess, cheeks pink with embarrassment. No one besides Katie seemed to notice that Ron too, had a pink face, on the other end of the table, but only because his loathing for Cho was growing exponentially by the minute.

"I'm sorry," Cho looked goofy and apologetic, but from her it was endearing, even beautiful, Jess noted a little enviously.

Harry almost fell off the bench.

Ron made a strangled sound and gestured helplessly towards Harry. Katie gently brought his upraised hands down below the table, putting them in his own lap, patting them sympathetically.

"I'm sorry," said Cho again.

"It's alright," shrugged Jess. "Donia's a bit of an arse…"

"I'M RIGHT HERE!" screeched the Slytherin, trying desperately to lift her head off the table despite Sarah and Steph's joint effort in pushing it down.

"Please don't mind her," said Jess. "Are you alright, Cho? You seem upset…"

"Listen, Jess," said the girl earnestly. "Some people…some people from my house are planning to do something…at breakfast. To suck up to the Slytherins…"

"What?" Harry jumped in. "Why? Why would Ravenclaws ever want to suck up to the Slytherins?"

"Because a lot of us feel that Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs hate us," winced Cho.

"But…but we don't," Hermione chimed in.

"SPEAK FOR YOURSELF! MMMMRRRRPH!"

"Well, at least not generally." Hermione scowled at the back of Donia's head. "But lately…"

"Yes, lately we've been…behaving despicably," finished Cho. "There's no excuse for it and they know it. To tell you the truth, most of them really don't have a problem with muggles at all, they just…they'd rather see you out of the school just so they don't have to look at you everyday and remember how cruel they've been to you and you friends…"

Jess was blown away by this revelation.

Harry, surprisingly enough, was the one to start speaking first, "You mean…you mean the Ravenclaws are helping the muggles get tossed out of Hogwarts?"

"Surely you didn't think the ministry would just trust testimonies from Slytherins, did you?" Cho looked like she wanted the Earth to open up and swallow her.

"But there were no testimonies from Ravenclaws in court!" Jess was aghast. "I was there!"

"They were all given under a promise of confidentiality." replied Cho mournfully.

Silence.

Jess swallowed hard. "Can…can they do that?

"CHO!"

Cho Chang jumped and turned to see her best friend, Marietta, standing up at the Ravenclaw table and looking at her angrily. The rest of the Ravenclaws didn't look too pleased either, twisteded in their seats and staring coldly at Cho.

They don't know whether to treat her like a traitor or a hero…she's only doing what they all want to do, thought Jess sympathetically.

"Cho Chang, come back over here…" called Marietta again.

"No! I won't be a part of it! It's not fair and it's not right!" cried Cho, her voice wavering.

A sound of nauseated disgust came from Donia's squashed face.

Jess frowned at Sarah and Steph, who shrugged at her helplessly. "Look, unless you want her head to go right through the table, I don't see what else Steph and I can do…"

"It's alright," said Cho, attempting a smile. "I…I have to go, anyway…"

"No! Wait! Have you had breakfast!" sputtered Harry.

This time, the nauseated sound of disgust came from Ron, which confused Steph and Sarah, for a moment.

"Ow! Ow! OW!" squealed Donia at the added pressure.

"I'm not hungry," said Cho. Jess noticed that the Ravenclaw seemed thinner and paler than she last remembered. Jess had heard about Cho's major guilt issues after Cedric's death; it seemed consistent that she'd be having guilt issues with the treatment of muggles by her house now, too. "I'm just going to go study… in the library…"

They watched her go, her head hanging limply between her shoulders. Marietta got up with a plate loaded with food, glared at the Gryffindors as if it was their fault Cho was having such a miserable time of it, then followed her friend out of the Great Hall.

Sarah and Steph released Donia's head and the Slytherin muggle shot up, rubbing her red nose furiously. "What the fuck, guys! What the fuck!"

"Had to shut you up somehow," remarked Jess with a raised eyebrow.

"Am I not entitled to an opinion, now?" fumed Donia.

"Not when it's unfair," snapped Katie.

"Oh, not you too, Katie," moaned Ron.

"Yeah, tell 'em, Ron!" cried Donia.

Ron went on, "Look, I'm not saying she's evil or anything…"

"No, because evil takes effort! Cunning!" interjected the Slytherin muggle. "And style!"

"…but she's not doing anything against her own good either!" finished Ron, trying to ignore the ranting muggle.

Katie blinked at him. "Ron, she went against her whole house to warn us. She's a nice person."

"Yeah, well….she…I dunno…" Ron deflated and began bad-temperedly picking at his bacon.

"Speaking of warning us," said Steph suddenly. "What do you think they have in store for us?"

"What ever it is, we stick to the plan," said Jess.

Donia cheered up instantly. "Immediate, violent retaliation! I'm so excited…"

"God, I love that word combination," sighed Sarah contentedly. "It's like when I was three and just starting to amble about the house and I discovered that I could fit my fingers into all the electricity outlets up to the third knuckle."

"You did that?" Even Donia, perhaps the one other person in their group to truly approach Sarah's madness, had an incredulous look on her face.

"You didn't?" the Hufflepuff muggle looked worried for all of three seconds. Then her need to make a point overcame her self-doubt. "Well, anyway, my mum kept telling me not to put my fingers in the outlets because I'd get a shock, but I never actually stopped doing it until I actually did get a really bad electric shock, one day. I was pronounced clinically dead for three minutes and everything…"

Silence.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Suddenly, it all makes sense," muttered Donia recovering from this bizarre information a lot quicker than the others.

"SARAH!"

"Um…." Jess was panic-stricken. "Twins! Twins! Twins! The twins at two o'clock!"

"Sarah!" Fred and George came stomping up. Some people from the Hufflepuff table began to rise to their feet protectively.

"Sit!" screamed Sarah leaping to her feet and commanding her troops.

The Hufflepuff boys grudgingly took their seats again. Fred and George stared in wary disbelief as they approached.

"Aaaaaaaand THAT…" Donia murmured to Steph, nodding her head toward the restless Hufflepuffs, "Wasn't in the least bit weird. Or creepy. Or like the Nazi-"

Steph cut her off with a groan. Sometimes the things the Slytherin muggle said in humour hit a bit too close to the bone.

"What the hell's going on, Sarah?" demanded George.

"If I didn't know better, Sarah, I'd say you had all that lot under Imperius…" snorted Fred in the direction of the Huffs. Both he and his brother seemed to be wearing protective helmets on their heads. It took everyone a second to realise that the helmets were actually stew pots, from the kitchens. "They've been popping out of nowhere and following us about for days now!"

"And that explains the pots…" whispered Katie.

"What's this all about?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, Sarah. What are you playing at?" George adjusted his helmet.

Sarah stared at him frostily down the end of her nose. "Don't…be…insulting, Fred…"

"I'm Fred," exclaimed Fred.

"Whatever!" exploded George. "Where's our money, Sarah?"

"What money?" said Sarah confidently.

Her friends were the only people who heard the faint warble of hesitance in her voice. They all winced in anticipation, having watched enough of Sarah's schemes go badly wrong over the years.

The boys glared at her silently for a split second before they both yelled: "The money you were supposed to make with the blue dye!"

"So far," snarled Fred. "We have sixteen bucket loads of Switchkin's Hydro-Sensitive Smurf-Blue (in 'Gryffindor Greeting' ) sitting in our rooms waiting to be used."

"And it hasn't been used, Sarah!" interrupted George. "Why hasn't it been used?"

"That was three hundred galleons that could have gone to develop more merchandise for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Sarah!"

"Now, we won't have enough money to get our next shipment!"

"And we can't make money if we have nothing to sell, Sarah!"

"So what are we supposed to do, Sarah!" They both fumed in unison.

"Boys!" snapped Sarah coldly. "Some plans need time to be hatched. Rome wasn't built in a day and even God had six days…"

"Seven…" corrected Donia.

"He rested on the seventh," said Sarah.

"Maybe in the Bible," shrugged Donia.

"SARAH!" screamed the twins, "We need the money!"

"Well, you're going to get it!" Sarah screamed back.

"When!" demanded the boys.

Sarah looked at a complete loss. "You're…er…you're going to get it…er…"

"…Now." Donia finished for her.

"Now!" cried Fred, George and Sarah.

"Well, tonight." said Donia.

"Yes, tonight." agreed Sarah strongly. "We're using it tonight, boys, so if you'll excuse me, I have a plan to hatch that involves….Hydro-Sensitive Smurf-Blue in 'Gryffindor Greeting'." She shooed them away with her hand. "Now go. You're both dismissed. I can't believe you doubt me like this…."

Fred and George stood bewildered for about three seconds, watching as the muggles quietly went back to their breakfasts. Then, feeling thoroughly…excused… they walked off to the other side of the table to sit amongst their peers and eat, looking exceedingly confused.

Sarah waited a moment before sighing with relief and turning in her seat to say, "Are we really going tonight?"

"Yup," replied the Slytherin between mouthfuls of rice pudding.

"Thank GOD the no violence rule is OVER! I don't think I could've kept that up much longer…" the Hufflepuff leaned against Steph, who fanned her sympathetically with her red and gold napkin.

"What's Hydro-Sensitive Smurf Blue dye in 'Gryffindor Greeting'? asked Katie.

"What's 'Gryffindor Greeting?" wondered Jess.

"You'll see," shrugged Donia stuffing her mouth with scrambled eggs.

"How the hell's it Hydro-Sensitive?" Sarah demanded.

"It's fun," grinned Donia. "We'll need a couple of your minions, Sarah, to help us carry the stuff to the…" Her eyes flickered briefly towards Jess, Steph and Katie. "…place…"

"Oh, come on!" Katie cried.

"Trust me," replied Donia. "You'll enjoy it more if you don't see it coming…"

"Speaking of not seeing it coming," sighed Hermione. "There are a couple of levitated jugs of water floating towards your heads right at this moment…" She wearily prepared to stand and pull out her wand.

"Sit down, Hermione," hissed Katie and Sarah at precisely the same time.

"What-" Hermione's look of shock was mirrored in Harry and Ron's faces.

"You guys…" began Ginny leaning over towards them, pointing at the floating jugs, which were directly over the muggle's heads, now.

"We got it covered, Gin," replied Donia, eyes narrowed and gleaming murderously.

"If only we could do this some other way," sighed Jess leaning back on the bench to receive her drench. "I just know this is going to be cold…"

The floating jugs tipped over, spilling freezing water onto the muggles awaiting heads in a controlled imperious drizzle.

Laughter exploded from the Ravenclaw table, soon to be accompanied by raucous applause from the Slytherin table. Draco got to his feet, clapping in a leisurely manner, leaning more on one foot.

He spoke when the noise died down a little. "That…" he intoned. "…is what we call Levitation, muggles…"

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall came to her feet. "How DARE you…"

"Now, now, Minerva," Snape got to his feet. "Malfoy is simply commenting. The erroneous charm obviously came from the Ravenclaw table…"

"Indeed, I am most horrified by this…this….outrageous behaviour from my house!" sputtered Flitwick, cheeks on fire as he stood on his chair, embarrassed. "Minerva, I'm so sorry, I-"

"Oh My GOODNESS!" cried McGonagall suddenly as five huge crashes sounded and crockery went flying everywhere. Ravenclaw and Slytherin students were shrieking and recoiling from their table, and the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors jeered and laughed uproariously at the sight before their eyes.

The muggles had given the action a moment to lull after Draco's scathing commentary; enough of a moment that people became distracted by the teachers bickering at the Head table. Then, in explosive action that took everyone by surprise, Sarah and Steph had leapt to their feet, as Katie and Jess had clambered on to the Gryffindor table. Donia had grabbed the jug hovering above her head, leapt up in one smooth motion and sent the clay vessel careening through the air like a meteor heading for a life-bearing planet. It hit the Slytherin table, centimetres from Draco's crotch, and shattered into a billion tiny fragments, like alligator teeth whizzing through the air.

The other four jugs followed suit, meeting the Ravenclaw table with equal force or actually hitting Ravenclaws in the heads, knocking them off their seats and onto the clay covered ground only to shed blood. Screams of panic erupted from both tables as people scrambled fearfully out of the way, expecting a second assault.

"THAT…" smiled Donia calmly, from the top of the amazed Hufflepuffs' table. "Now, that…is Levitation, Motherfucker."

The Great Hall exploded open, vomiting the soaked muggles out. Yelling could be heard behind them, subsiding as the doors swung shut again. One could easily tell that one of the voices was McGonagall's and the other was Snape's, arguing over their fate again.

"Do you think we'll all get detention this time?" asked Katie.

"I hope I do…" muttered Steph, seething. Sarah patted her arm soothingly.

"I don't know. They must be building up, for me," smirked Donia. "I must owe Snape at least six by now; I haven't gone to one since I've been here."

"Well, do we care?" asked Jess indecisively.

The girls stood, hair dripping, shirts sticking to their shoulders, looking for a reply in each other's faces. Finally the questioning gazes settled on Sarah and Donia who turned to each other and said, "No?" They turned back to the rest of the group, shrugging. "No."

"Do you ever intend to go?" asked Katie.

"Maybe once. To see what it's like. Could be fun." the Slytherin shrugged.

"Alright then," said Jess. "We have work to do, don't we?"

"Yes, but all our wizard friends are in there. How are we…?" began Katie.

A small, first-year Gryffindor came scuttling by them busily, clearly intent upon getting his breakfast. In a split-second, he was hanging, by the front of his shirt, from Donia's fist, feet cycling in the air in alarm.

"Good God, Donia! What are you-!" screamed Katie.

"No, wait! I've seen her do this before! She won't hurt him!" cried Sarah, eyes gleaming eagerly.

Donia turned to glare at her. "It doesn't work if he knows that, Sarah!" hissed the Slytherin through gritted teeth. "Now I really will have to hurt him…"

"Oh!" Sarah looked apologetically at the first year. "Sorry, mate."

The tiny Gryffindor whimpered, eyes tearing up in panic.

"Quiet, Thingy," snarled Donia, giving him a brain-joggling shake.

"Oh gently, Donia, please…" Katie pleaded, mortified. She could almost feel her own brain shrink away from her skull fearfully. "He's a Gryffindor! We like Gryffindors, remember?"

"He's young! He'll recover…" said Sarah.

"Sarah!" snapped Steph.

"What?"

"Guys, we're wasting time," murmured Jess, with quiet cynical displeasure.

"Yeah, my time!" yelled Donia not noticing that she was shaking the boy mercilessly, even though, technically, she was annoyed with her friends. "Do I do my work, or not, damn it!"

"Go ahead! Go ahead! Sheesh…"

"Fine!"

"No need to yell…"

"Yeah…"

"God, you're psycho touchy sometimes, Sawwan…"

Donia cleared her throat and everyone else fell silent. Sarah stood behind her and massaged her shoulders like a trainer warming up a prize boxer. The Slytherin muggle lifted the boy off the floor again, bringing him closer to her face, "Right, Thingy," she snarled, eyes blazing. "You know the drill. You do what we tell you to. You tell no one. You make yourself available for further service. Capiche?"

'Thingy' nodded nervously.

"Good," Donia smiled. "Now, where would packages from outside the school come in?"

"T-the….owl-owl…"

"Speak up, Thingy. Don't make me shake you till you're sick."

"….Owlery…..The Owlery!" he stuttered.

"Then take us to the Owlery."

Professor Dumbledore emerged from Madame Pomfrey's closet, finishing off the last of his sixth acid pop.

"That was fun, Poppy," he said non-chalantly.

"Oh please, Albus. We're too old for you to imply that we were up to anything sexual in that closet." snapped Madame Pomfrey.

"Of course. Now what did you want to show me?"

"Follow me," she said tiredly.

Dumbledore was taken aback when he noticed that at least five of the beds in the infirmary were occupied.

"I put them all to sleep because they were whining so much," whispered Madame Pomfrey. "But one of them demanded to stay awake till she spoke to you."

"Is it the non-magical girls, Poppy?"

"What?" she seemed surprised by the question. "Oh? Oh no. Not them, poor things. Not yet, at any rate, though Ronald Weasely was brought up here by one of them the other day. No, Albus I suspect we might have a more serious problem."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well," said Pomfrey pulling back the curtains surrounding the bed they'd come up to. There, sitting up indignantly in bed, fists balled at her sides, tears spilling out of swollen eyes, lip torn and nose bloody, was Pansy Parkinson. "I think someone's targeting the Slytherins!"

"It stinks, up here." muttered Donia.

"OOOOHHHH! Owls! Owls! It's a veritable conservatory for every endangered owl species there is! This is wonderful!" cried Katie clasping her hands happily as dozens of the original occupants of the owlery zoomed in and out returning or heading out to deliver messages.

"If one of them craps on me I'm having it for dinner." stated the Slytherin bad-naturedly.

Katie glared.

"Oh hush," said Sarah as she knelt by an exceptionally laden owl that was sitting patiently on top of a large box tied to both its legs. "This bird carried the whole thing by itself! That's miraculous! I love magic!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not a fan just yet," said Jess. "Let's see if we got everything. Here, Sarah," Jess handed her friend a letter as she struggled to untie the owl from the box.

Sarah tore the envelope open as Steph knelt to help rip sello-tape off the sealed box. The Hufflepuff muggle took a moment to read the letter, then proceeded to smile and say, "Aaw. Uncle Alfie! You are so the best uncle ever. He says he's willing to supply us with whatever we might need, free of charge, until we've completed our sentences…"

"Sentences?" Steph straightened in alarm. "What've you told him, Sarah?"

"I told him what he needed to know," frowned Sarah. "I couldn't very well tell him we were in a witness protection program at a Wizarding school located in Butt-Fuck-No-Where, Scotland, now, could I?"

"Stop fighting, guys, we got it all. This is great," said Katie.

"Okay, whose is the coffee?" asked Jess holding it up.

"Mine!" Steph grabbed the package and leapt out of the way. For a moment, she reminded Sarah of the seagulls from Finding Nemo.

"Who ordered….grapevine leaves?" Jess stared at the translucently wrapped tidy piles of pronged leaves.

"ME!" yelled Sarah making a grab for the packages.

"There's a whole lot of those leaves in here Sarah," said Katie riffling through the huge box, up to her shoulder in wrapping.

"Yeah….it's all mine." Sarah hurriedly handed the packs in her arms to Donia and reached forward to gather the rest up before the others could take a better look at the grapevine leaves.

"What are you going to do with all those, cook them?" asked Jess puzzled.

"Hey!" yelled Donia suddenly. "These aren't grapevine leaves! These are- AAAAAAOOWW! Sarah, you bitch!"

"Sarah!" Jess stared. "That was rather uncalled for. And it looked like it really hurt."

"Yeah, Sarah!" The Slytherin fumed. "Maybe I should just tell everyone that these packets are full of po-aaaaaaAAAAAAOW! Steph!"

"Sorry!" Through gritted teeth, Steph managed to convey a demanding if apologetic request. "Please SHUT UP!"

With a disgusted sigh, Donia shut her trap.

"Wigs?" Katie pulled them out.

"Those are for our movie. Walkie-talkies?" Jess held them up.

"Oh, I asked for those," Katie received them and immediately started handing them out. "They're for us, alright? They're the latest thing. Tiny and sleek so you can keep them on your persons at all times…"

"What for?" asked Sarah.

"For anything. An emergency." explained Katie. "Here, look. There are five channels, one for each of us and they're colour coded too. I take it we all know our colours? Red for me, yellow for Sarah, green for Donny, blue for Jess and the purply one for Steph. And that button on the bottom opens all channels at once, which means we'd all be able to hear the same transmission at the same time. Isn't it cool?"

"That's awfully clever, Katie," said Steph, taken aback as she stared at her own little handset.

"Yeah, good thinking." said Jess. "Who ordered batteries?"

"Me! That's for all shaving razors, mp3 players, automatic toothbrushes, etc," stated Donia reaching for them.

There was a cacophony of 'Oh-Thank-Gods' as they all reached for their share of batteries.

"Steph! Why do you get extra?" asked Jess staring at the single packs of double 'A's and triple 'A's she'd gotten.

"Dildo." remarked Steph non-chalantly.

"OH GOD!"

"EW!"

"Too Much Information!"

"I did NOT need to know that!"

"I'm just saying, I'd like extra batteries from now on," shrugged Steph, coyly withdrawing from the circle.

"Come one. What else is in there?" asked Donia impatiently.

"The camera," Jess pulled out a smaller cardboard box out of the massive original.

There was a silence as Jess broke through all the seals and pulled it out of its Styrofoam.

( Seeing the Styrofoam launched a whole wave of guilt brought about by bringing non-biodegradable wastes into the Wizarding world within Katie, but she stifled it quickly.) Then, Jess proceeded to hold the sleek, silver thing up to the light, trying to decipher how to switch it on.

"A digital," Steph looked impressed.

"A nice one, too," nodded Sarah.

"It won't matter how nice it is if it won't work," muttered Jess pushing her hand through the camera's side strap. It really was a conveniently small machine; it fit comfortably and lightly in the palm of her hand.

"Surely, it'll work," Steph sounded anything but sure. "I spoke to Dumbledore. He promised he'd see to it that electronics would work here. He promised…he…he…"

They all waited with baited breath. If this didn't work, Jess had no clue how else to prove to Scrimgeour that they deserved to stay at Hogwarts. Her fingers took hold of the side screen and pulled it open, like a car door swinging in the wind. A tiny beep was heard and the blackened screen leapt into life, turning Bluescreen blue, for an instant, before showing Katie's anxious face as the lens was seeing it.

The letters, "STBY" flashed green in the corner of the screen.

The girls shrieked. They were in business.

Dumbledore stared at Pansy Parkinson. She glared right back at him.

If Albus Dumbledore had a regret concerning the Slytherins, it was that he had never managed to gain their trust. He often wondered if as many of them would fall in love with the Dark Arts if they didn't feel so unloved by the rest of the Wizarding world.

"Miss Parkinson…" he began, gently.

"What is this!" screamed Pansy. "I said SNAPE! SNAPE! I didn't say DUMBLEDORE!"

Then again, it could just be that they were always the snottiest little bastards at school.

"Dumbledore is Headmaster…" insisted Madame Pomfrey.

"Wait, Poppy," interjected Dumbledore. "Miss Parkinson has a right to speak to whomever she wishes."

Madame Pomfrey blinked.

"However," Dumbledore went on. "Professor Snape is currently teaching, so anyone wishing to speak with him will have to wait until lunchtime, at least. Would you be willing to wait that long? You risk exposing other members of your house to the same experience…"

"Fine," snapped Pansy, though she suddenly looked weary and defeated. "Fine. I'll talk."

"Please, Miss Parkinson," Dumbledore came forward and sat at the end of the bed. "What happened to you and your classmates?"

"We were walking to class," Pansy wouldn't look up from the crease in her bedcovers she was steadfastly staring at. "They…they came out of no where…We never saw them coming…"

"Right!" yelled El Presedenté, inspecting the first line of troupes. "We have come to the crux of our intentions, the moment of truth, the axis of evil, the tower of pancakes, the pearly whites of your rubber ducky, the-"

"Sarah…"

"Yes, Donia! Thank you!" El Presedenté gave herself a moment to remember what she'd intended to say in the first place, then commenced with her speech. "We have a long road of reform ahead of us. Only those with the loyalty and aspirations towards Hufflepuff House that would make the adoration of a well-loved puppy look like the cold indifference of your ex-girlfriend's mother will make it through into the ranks of the Chosen; those elite few with hearts of oak and brains of…brains of…brains…of…"

"Sheep?"

"SILENCE, Slytherin menace!" El Presedenté glared at her friend. "Now, Hufflepuffs, our trials and tribulations begin tonight. Those of you who wish to join the ranks of the elite must understand many of our activities are going to involve rule breaking! Disrespect of people in positions of authority! Disrespect of people in our peer group! Disrespect in general! Solidarity! Strength in unity and equality!"

"Move it along, Sarah; you're not Lenin, and I'm not immortal!" snapped Donia finally losing her patience. "Not yet, at least…"

"Fine, you do it then!" howled Sarah, nostrils flaring, fist held before her face heroically. She'd realised that, perhaps, she was a tad too enthusiastic, too close to the project, to handle this with the deftness it required. But before she stepped aside, she said, "Huffs, I put you in the hands of one of my most trusted comrades…you may know her by another name outside our common room, but within our domain, she shall henceforth be known as….Le Generalé…."

"…Le Generalé…." murmured the Hufflepuffs in unison turning their heads to where Sarah was pointing.

Donia rolled her eyes, feeling rather silly as the collection of big, bright eyes all focused, unblinkingly, on her . The Hufflepuffs looked expectant, even fearful.

She wondered if she disappear in a puff of smoke, now. Or maybe even levitate.

Wait. Magic school. That stuff's not impressive here. Ah well, they'd have to be satisfied with her shining personality.

"Presedenté, can she be trusted?" questioned Hanna Abbot.

Before Sarah could open her mouth, Donia leaned forward, hands coyly clasped behind her back, and murmured, "Never."

"Wh-what?" Hanna looked a bit alarmed that the Slytherin had heard her doubting.

"Never trust." Donia turned away from them and began pacing up and down in front of the fire place. "Do, though…" she advised. "Do…learn. Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"Send messengers to the twins."

"Sure. With what message?"

" 'Let the betting begin.'"

Draco stood amidst his circle of Slytherins, hair gleaming in the fire that was lit twenty four hours a day, three hundred and sixty five days a year because the dungeons contained neither windows nor warmth.

"It's war," he whispered. He could afford to. The Slytherins barely breathed when he spoke to them collectively. "We're at war. These muggles will stop at nothing to humiliate us. They have absolutely no respect for us though we are most obviously superior. They're infringing on our environment and threatening us. It's true that my father has assured that they will not be here for very much longer, but direct action needs to be taken by us.

I will not stand by and watch Slytherin pride taken to pieces by these …beasts …and their chaotic, barbaric, bohemian behaviour. You can see it, in the way they walk, the way they talk, the way they eat, even. These…people… these muggles are dirt. DIRT. And I will not be in school with non-deserving dirt. Salazar Slytherin would roll in his grave if he knew that his chosen purebloods were in an environment which exposed them to these dregs of society.

Dumbledore may have lost his mind, but there is only so much anyone can do to stop us, Slytherins. Even Albus Dumbledore. This is up to us.

I hereby declare the muggles…fair game."

"This is so uncomfortable; what idiot designed this?" Katie shifted one buttock then the other, frowning down at the engraved bench. "I'm pretty sure that dragon's flame has poked me up the bum hole at least three times now…"

Jess momentarily pulled the camera away from her face. "Okay, you've been hanging around Donia too long. You can't say that on camera, Katie. We need sweet and innocent, remember? It's why I didn't ask the other three to help…"

"They can look innocent…" said Katie.

Jess raised a cynical eyebrow. "What? Miss Stephanie Coffee-Tea-Or-Me Lalonde? Miss Sarah I-See-A-Labotomy-In-My-Near-Future Ogle? Or maybe I should've asked Miss Would-You-Like-To-See-My-Skull-Collection Sawwan?"

Katie grinned. "Point taken. Now, should I start?"

"I dunno," said Jess. "Are the others ready?"

"Oi!" yelled Katie down the corridor. "You lot ready?"

There was a scuffling, agitated sound that did not sound very encouraging , but nevertheless, Harry's voice was soon heard from around the corner, calling, "Um...ready…sort of…ow…"

"Get off my foot, Harry!" Ron sounded exceedingly irritated.

Ginny's uncontrollable giggling bubbled up

"Ginny, SHUT UP!" moaned her brother.

"What's she on?" growled Hermione, twirling her microphone, bad-temperedly, like a cheerleaders baton. "Coz I bet it'll make my morning much more colourful…"

"Jess? This wig's itchy…" moaned Seamus Finnighan. Dean Thomas nodded in mute agreement.

"Please, you guys," Jess ran her free hand through her hair frustrated. "Please! Get it together. This won't do…"

"Look, don't boss us about!" snapped Parvati advancing towards the little red-head heatedly. Lavender scuttled after her nervously. "The only reason we agreed to this was because Hermione…"

"…threatened you…"

Parvati blanched. Hermione, it seemed had somehow materialised behind her.

"The threat still stands, you know," Hermione inspected her fingernails neutrally.

Parvati and Lavender scowled and scampered away to their positions.

Ginny giggled quietly.

"I can't sit on this bench much longer!" insisted Katie. "Can we please get a move on?"

"Places, people! We'll begin filming in five," sighed Jess.

"Wait! I have a problem!" howled Harry, eyes wide in panic.

Ginny giggled a little less quietly; her eyes were shiny with restrained tears.

"What is it?" asked Jess gently. Out of the corner of her eyes, though, she could see Katie roll her eyes.

"I don't think I can do this, Jess," Harry reached for the white blond wig currently brain-sucking his scalp. "I honestly don't think I can even pretend to be Draco Malfoy without feeling forever more unclean…" He tugged on the wig.

"HARRY! YOU KEEP THAT WIG ON OR I'LL KILL YOU!" screamed Hermione.

Ginny began to snort quietly. Everyone glared at her momentarily.

"Come on Harry," Jess turned back to him. "It took Hermione an hour and a half to get those wigs on all of you. And you're the only one here who's about the right height. It was either you or Neville, and Neville's not his body type."

"I'm not his body type either!" cried Harry indignantly.

Ron patted him on the shoulder supportively. "I hate to break to you, Harry, but…"

"NO! I'm not Draco Malfoy's body type! I'm not Draco Malfoy's anything! Nothing could ever make me resemble Draco Malfoy in anyway! Especially not this stupid wig!"

"Jeez, Harry, take one for the team, will you?" frowned Dean. Seamus agreed non-verbally.

"I've never seen Harry in this degree of denial…" said Neville, who'd been the quietest member of this cast up until this very moment.

"I can't! I just…can't…" Harry looked close to tears.

Ginny looked close to tears for a whole other reason.

Hermione shoved Parvati and Lavender out of the way and pulled her wand out of her pocket in one swift motion. Bracing herself, she pointed it right at Harry's face and yelled, "IMPERIU-"

"NO!" screamed Ron shoving her arm away. A flash of bright purple light shot out of Hermione's wand and bounced off the wall right between Lavender and Parvati's heads. The girls shrieked and ducked.

Ginny's face was turning magenta.

Jess and Ron were too busy restraining Hermione to glare at her this time. "No, no," Ron pleaded. "Let's not 'Imperius' anyone, today, Hermione…"

" 'Imperius' doesn't even work on me, so there!" shouted Harry angrily, perhaps at Hermione's open attack despite their long standing friendship.

"The date on this bench isn't real, is it? This isn't really a monument from the twelfth century?" Katie twisted and turned, attempting to snap the tongue off the offending dragon-engraving.

"NO!" Ron let go of Hermione and careened off to save the bench from his current girl-friend.

"Harry please," said Jess, "Please? Please? This is our only line of defence…"

"I didn't know Harry was so 'Method'" said Katie quietly, trying to wrest her hands free of her boyfriends' grip. "Stanyslavski would be proud. Or maybe he wouldn't; I mean he did make light of his own theories near the end of his lifetime…"

Ron looked at her, lips quirked, half in loving wonder, half in confusion. "Stanly… who?…Wha-…"

"Might be fun, Harry," interjected Neville. "You get to do all these horrible things and everyone 'll think it's Draco."

"I don't know…I just…"

"Please, Harry." Jess put a hand out and grabbed his clammy one. "Please? You don't want me and the girls tossed out, do you?"

"What? No! Never!"

"Then, please, Harry," said Katie. "Suck it the hell up."

Ginny tried to laugh as quietly as she could.

Jess flinched. Harry looked absolutely miserable, but he retreated good-naturedly to his position. "Alright? Are we finally ready? Where's our hostess?"

"Here!" Hermione pounced forward with her microphone.

"Good. Pansy Parkinson?"

"Here!" yelled Lavender.

"Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Yeah," muttered Ron, hoisting his make-shift belly out from under his armpit so that it was realistically centred where Crabbe's real paunch would be.

"Ready," said Neville putting on the platform shoes his Grandmother had gotten him before his growth spurt three years ago.

"Jess," snapped Parvati. "I don't see why I have to do this! I can't be a Slytherin; my skin colour is neither pasty nor puce!"

Wow. Vanity from a Gryffindor. Parvati's lucky Donia didn't hear that…I can't even pretend to contemplate the degree of dirty sarcasm she'd stoop to, thought Jess, raising an eyebrow.

"If Parvati's not going to do it I'm not!" cried Lavender.

"Then, why do I have to-" began Harry.

"SHUT UP!" screeched Hermione. "DO IT OR I'LL HEX YOU ALL! ALL! AND IT'LL BE PAINFUL AND DISFIGURING I PROMISE!"

Silence.

Jess prepped the camera.

Ginny giggled.

Snape had no idea, but his second and third classes of the day were saved by Draco Malfoy.

Steph had been stomping her way towards his room when a gang of Slytherins ambushed her. She wound up locked up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, of course, bound by invisible forces, gagged by a 'Silencio' charm.

In a way, this was a good thing, though, because when she finally was found, hours and hours later, leaning in an exhausted slump against the stall wall, Jess was filming.

But we'll come to that part later.

If this were a movie, the camera would now abruptly and randomly cut to a shot of Lars Uhrig who was walking down the corridor to his next class, busily trying to stuff his Care of Magical Creatures book into his satchel without losing an appendage.

"Lars."

It took all of his quidditch honed reflexes not to crash straight into Draco. As it was, Lars found himself almost nose to nose with an apparently seething Malfoy.

"Dra-" His voice cracked. "-Co?"

Yeeeeeeees, Lars, even his inner voice sounded humiliated. That didn't sound the least bit guilty.

"We need to talk." snarled Draco.

Well, shit.

Lars cleared his throat, Adam's apple bobbing like a bouy in stormy waters.

Draco's eyebrows sank so low his usually ethereal face seemed almost ghoulish. "I know your secret, Lars…"

OH my GOD, he knows I'm GAY! was Lar's initial mortified internal reaction.

FINALLY! Took him bloody long enough… was his second internal reaction, which he stifled pretty quickly.

All that emerged from his lips, though, were the words, "M-m-m-my….secret?" His voice cracked again.

Good God, man, get a grip! screamed his dignity. At this point you pride isn't just wounded, it's quadriplegic!

"You couldn't tell me? I thought we were friends, Lars. I honestly thought I could trust you!" raged Draco.

"Oh please! It's not like you tell me everything!" sneered Lars with a clarity of thought that surprised even himself.

"I don't hide anything from my friends!" shouted Draco. "You all know everything about me!"

"Oh yes, you live with the untouchable confidence that your minions will never turn against you, how flattering…" Lars was on cruise control. This pent up honesty was rising from he knew not where but he was relieved. Relieved that he didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't anymore. If Draco wanted to hate him for that, then he could just fuck off….

Though…Lars was pretty sure it would break his heart if Draco did fuck off…

"You're not my minion! You're my friend!"

"Yet again you flatter me, but I think you'll find that my point is that I can't be you, Draco. I can't air my dirty laundry and tell the world to breath it in. For the longest time I thought you wouldn't accept me. I thought …"

"I don't accept you…." murmured Draco, staring at the floor, fists balled.

"I…what?" Lars once again felt like there were invisible hands wrapped around his throat. No, this couldn't be happening…Everything he'd feared…

Draco too looked like he was having a limb cut off. "I don't accept you!" He finally cried. "You're self indulgence goes against everything that Slytherin has always stood for!"

Lars could say nothing. He could only listen as the guillotine descended.

Draco was going to shun him.

Because he of his sexuality.

Then….Draco screamed, "MUGGLE LOVER! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE DATING THAT ABBERATION OF NATURE!"

Silence. Lars had never experienced such a level of mental blankness.

"……………… ………………………………...What?……….."

"You!" Draco flapped his hands angrily. "You! You're in love with that….heinous muggle!"

Lars' mouth felt very dry. Infact, he was pretty sure he was having a minor stroke. "What?" he wheezed like an idiot. And this time, his inner voice didn't object to his lack of eloquence.

"I can't believe you tricked the boys into thinking you'd beat her up!" raved Draco pacing back and forth like a maniac. "Then, you have the audacity to go on a little stroll with her, hand in hand, across the moors! How fucking romantic of you! Then you expect me to not know about it!"

Lars said nothing. But finally his inner voice regained it's ability to offer commentary. Wow, Lars thought. He's been short-changed on brains, hasn't he?

"It adds insult to injury, Lars it really does! Do you know, I was so livid this morning when McNair told me that I almost tossed you off the Quidditch team?"

"……what?"

"I mean, for you to not tell me! That! That really hurt; forget that you're probably going to contract something nasty from that….muggle! Eeelukh!" Draco shivered all over and gagged.

Lars was still stunned into incoherence. "…Dra…Draco…I'm not datin-"

"Oh, save it!" snapped Malfoy. "Please! How stupid do you think I am!"

Is that a rhetorical question or can I answer it? Lars shook his head to silence his thoughts.

"Well, in the end I've decided you can suck face with whoever the hell you want," sighed Draco. "Though I hope this is just a phase you're going though. Experimentation or whatever. At least she's remotely female…"

A small part of Lars died.

Draco didn't notice. Draco wasn't big on noticing things. He resumed, "…Remotely, I said. Very, VERY remotely…And this doesn't change how I view muggles in the least, Lars. I'm not going to stop until those girls run away screaming from Hogwarts. Especially your little girlfriend. Especially her!"

"Um….but-"

"Infact," Draco suddenly looked terrifyingly pleased with himself. "Infact, I have that redheaded one locked in that haunted bathroom as we speak! Haha!"

"Jess!" Lars snapped out of his haze as if he'd been slapped.

"Oh, God! You're not on first-name basis with all of them, are you?" Draco looked down his nose at the other boy. "This better be a phase. And no. Not Jess…" He said the name like it left a dirty taste in his mouth. "What a hideously bland name. A derivative of 'Jesus' named in feverous tribute to a religious icon…"

This from the boy who, at age four, ran around his mansion in black bed sheets pretending to be a Death Eater…

"Remind me to renew that bullseye on her forehead; it's getting kind of faded. Well, anyway, no. Not her. The other one. The one with longer hair."

"Stephanie…" moaned Lars, not even pretending anymore.

"And that name!" Draco rolled his eyes. "Morbidly French! Hello? Does no one remember Waterloo anymore? Napoleon? William the Conqueror?"

"Oh, Draco…." Lars wearily put up a hand to rub at his eyes and pinch the tension in the bridge of his nose.

"Enough," growled Draco. "I'm only tolerating your new affectations because you mean a lot to me, Lars. You and I have know each other since we were three. Albeit we've drifted apart, but I've always had a deep respect for you and your family. But these muggles are the enemy…and you better believe I'm not going to spare them."

With that, he stalked off, robes fluttering like some risen spectre of death….or Snape.

Lars lost the feeling in his arms and dropped his books.

He then commenced to stand there, like someone had cut his puppet strings, looking after the other boy till the bell rang and he was late for Transfiguration.

"Bets?" Fred and George almost salivated with eagerness.

"Yes," said Sarah. "But only for a select few people who you know will bet high against huge odds."

"Money-throwers," added Donia. "We need a return to commence with the next stage of the plan."

"But you want this on the down-low?" whispered George, though the room was full of avidly listening Hufflepuffs, perched like hungry birds of prey watching a dying animal.

The boys suddenly felt very naked. Which was understandable since they were wearing nothing but jeans.

"Look," said Fred. "Can we at least have out shirts back?"

"No," said Sarah.

"Why?" asked the boys.

"Coz you're hot." said Sarah.

"Focus," snapped the Slytherin. "Do you, or do you not have a range of bettors with money to throw?"

"Sure we do!" replied the boys, once again distracted by the thought of money.

"What's the scoop?" asked George.

"Tell you in a minute. Now, what are you doing tonight?" asked Sarah.

"Helping you, apparently," Fred rolled his eyes.

"Good, that's as it should be." nodded Donia. "We're going to need all the man-power we can get, as well as your know-how to get around the castle unnoticed."

"If you want us to set up bets we have to do it now. Time's running out; it's already an hour to lunchtime." said George.

"Yeah. If we're going to expect any returns we need to move at least by lunchtime."

"Right, well, here's the plan…."

"Observe," whispered Hermione, full of suspense. "The muggle female, hesitant in her approach as she searches around for any source of danger before heading into open sunlight."

The camera panned around the corner just in time to catch the sparkling-eyed Katie tip-toe out of the shadows into a strategically picked sun spot which glinted off her hair, giving her an angelic halo.

"Oh!" she breezily remarked. "What a nice, quiet spot for a nice, quiet read! I hope I won't be interrupted!"

Then, she skipped prettily to the bench and dramatically placed her posterior upon it. "What a pretty bench! I love this bench! It's so comfortable! Soooooooooooooooooo comfortable…."

Jess pulled her eye away from the camera long enough to mouth "Stick to the script!"

Katie glared as she shut her mouth and opened the book. It took her a moment to notice it was upside down.

The camera panned back to Hermione, who stood so close to the camera her breath fogged up the corner of the screen and all Jess could film for a few moments were wild, hazel eyes, bushy hair and microphone.

"What an extraordinary sighting! If we pan in closer to the muggle…" The camera jiggled slightly as Jess manoeuvred around Hermione's face and zoomed in on Katie. "…we can see that the book she's reading is entitled Hogwarts: A History. 'What's this?' you may ask. 'An interest in magical culture not often exhibited by wizards and witches themselves?' How odd from a muggle who is being accused of hating said culture! Maybe the people making these accusations are under the Imperius curse, or demented or just plain lyin-"

The camera suddenly panned to the floor as Jess abandoned all attempts at cinematic style, making a cutting motion across her throat and fiercely mouthing "Stick to the fucking script!"

Hermione stopped mid-sentence, cleared her throat nervously, then commenced. "But what is this we see emerging from the opposite corridor?"

From off camera, Dean, Neville and Seamus provided the dramatic music, "Duh-duh-daaaaaaaaaaa!" as the camera panned to a strategically shadowed passageway.

Platinum hair gleamed as a herd of Slytherins emerged. Jess made sure the camera went slightly out of focus and jiggled a lot to ensure that there was never a completely clear view of the band of rascals.

"This is none other than Draco Malfoy and his friends!" hissed Hermione from off camera, her voice squeaking with excitement.

They stopped in perfect formation, 'Draco' at the head of his dark-haired tribe like a pop star and his back-up dancers.

Jess was delighted; it looked great. And now for 'Draco's' big line….

…….

…………..

Silence.

Then, "Ron! Ron!"

"Harry! We're filming!" Ron replied as quietly as he could through gritted teeth.

"I can't see Katie! I can't see where to face without my glasses!"

Jess took a deep breath and let it out very, very slowly. Through the camera lens, she could see Katie roll her eyes sulkily. Really, for all the miracles they'd achieved in this world, who would've guessed that witches and wizards would be completely immobilized by a little acting? There was obviously no drama club at Hogwarts.

They'd just have to edit the whispering out.

'Crabbe' gently shouldered 'Draco' into the correct position and 'Draco's' big line finally came. "Bwaaaahahaaaaaaaahaaa!" roared Harry, pointing towards where he assumed Katie was. "Stupid Mudblood!"

The camera panned quickly to Hermione who gasped in horrified shock, then panned back to the maniacal 'Draco'. "Yes! I said Mudblood! Aren't I so stylishly racist?"

"You're brilliant, Draco!" declared 'Nott'.

"We love you, Draco!" mewed 'Pansy Parkinson'.

"Whatever." snorted Parvati, not even pretending to try to be Bulstrode.

Ginny giggled helplessly behind her own hands, clasped firmly before her mouth.

Jess took another deep breath. They'd have to edit that out, too.

"Oh noooooooo!" wailed Katie, flinging a hand to her forehead. "Whatever shall become of me?"

"Oh no!" cried Hermione. "Whatever shall become of her!"

"Attaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!" bellowed Harry, like a Viking chief. The rabble roared forward, the girls screaming….well, girlishly, and stampeding towards Katie, who started off pretending to look scared, then wound up shrieking with genuine terror when she realised that the gaggle of gallopers had gotten a bit too carried away with their acting and were actually making an uncontrollable mad dash her way.

This of course only encouraged Ginny to begin roaring with laughter, especially when everyone else lost their balance, failed to break in time, careened into the bench and went right over it, collectively landing on the other side.

Jess, trying desperately to salvage the film, quickly panned to a pallid Hermione, who managed to looked away from the scene with difficulty. "Um….note, dear viewer, how they…um…attempt to….squash the muggle….with their…um…selves…"

"AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahhahahaahhahahahaaaaa!" wept Ginny.

Harry was frantically digging his way out of the tangle of limbs, golden wig askew, but still passable as real, if dishevelled, hair, fist in the air, yelling, "Pulverise her! Pulverise the muggle! She touched me! She's gross! Ew! Ew! Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!"

Apparently, 'Crabbe' didn't think the muggle was gross, though, because him and her were busy excavating for gold down each other's throats with their tongues.

Oh good God, thought Jess quickly panning away as Ron's wig was ripped off him by Katie's grabbing hands. At this rate, I'll have to edit it to keep it PG 13!

Hermione looked away from the shocking scene only to find Jess pointing the camera at her. Jess hadn't really intended to put the poor girl on the spot, but really, what with the mewling mess of people on the floor, a hysterical Ginny standing off to the right, a downright frustrated and embarrassed Harry still trying to salvage the filming and the public displays of affection happening in the background, there really wasn't anyone else to film.

Hermione, always one to make the best of a bad situation, looked lost for an instant, before pointing at Katie (currently on top of Ron) and convincingly crying, "Look! Rape! Sexual extortion! Forceful snogging! I mean FORCED! FORCED!"

Jess stopped filming.

"It's those damned muggles!" Tears were pouring down Pansy's face. "They beat the crap out of a bunch of us! We were just walking to class!" Her sobbing was heart breaking. "Look what they did!" she held up a badly bruised elbow. "Look! Look!" She show Dumbledore her puffy mouth and scratched cheek.

Madame Pomfrey looked up at Albus Dumbledore. He seemed entirely displeased with this development.

"You always stick up for them!" moaned Pansy bitterly. "Because Potter would want you too! But I'm not a Death Eater and I've never done more than say a few nasty things to Potter! I don't deserve this!"

"I assure you Miss Parkinson that I have offered no special treatment to these girls that I would not offer anyone else in a time of danger," said Dumbledore gently.

"Oh really?" she sniffled. "I bet you'll keep this from the court case! I bet you'll cover for them!"

Dumbledore looked most unhappy. "Miss Parkinson…these girls need to be here…"

"I need to be here!" shrieked the girl, almost leaping out of bed. Madame Pomfrey had to restrain her. "This is my home! My school! Do you think that this place is a refuge for only your precious Potter and his flavour-of-the-week friends? I said I wasn't a Death Eater but we all know pretty well that my parents are. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to leave Hogwarts!"

"Miss Lalonde was in my office, today," remarked Albus. "She too appeared the worse for wear. Are you sure those girls were not giving as good as they were getting, Miss Parkinson?"

"Oh fuck off!" snapped Pansy rudely. "She's not here, is she?" she gestured around her at the beds full of wounded Slytherins.

Dumbledore said nothing.

Pansy stopped crying and lay back down into her pillows. "Why am I even trying?" she croaked. "I bet this won't make it's way into the trail at all. I just wanted a fair trail. I wouldn't care so much if the judge said they could stay so long as people got to know what harm they'd be doing to Hogwarts. Just a fair trail….that's all I wanted…"

She sounded miserable.

"Miss Parkinson," Dumbledore said. "You'll get your fair trail."

Madame Pomfrey followed him as he stepped back into the closet. She shut the door behind her, so she didn't hear when the third year Slytherin boy in the bed next to Pansy turned over and said, "Well, well, Parkinson. You've got some talent."

"I know," she sniggered. "Draco'll be so pleased. Really his plan was ingenious, though, guilting Dumbledore into testifying against the muggles. Only Draco could think of something like that…"

Lunchtime.

A pall of expectant fear hung over everyone. It had taken express orders from the absent Dumbledore to allow the muggles to come in and eat with the rest of the students. As it was, the professors were patrolling up and down, between the tables, like guards watching murderous inmates, looking out for the mere smell of trouble from anyone.

But though no one could quite say it, everyone understood that the real war was now brewing outside the Great Hall. Something big was coming, from both sides, the Muggles and the Purebloods. And it was anyone's guess which wave would break first.

"Did we get anything good?" asked Katie as she, Jess and the rest of the film cast walked into the Great Hall.

"Loads. But we're going to need to edit like mad," said Jess, watching the playback of a particular shot on the camera. "It's going to be a lot of work before we can take this to court and get away with it, but there's potential, at least."

"I'll take potential over nothing anyday," replied Katie, shrugging.

Donia came running up, grin as wide as a Cheshire cat's. "Hey, you two. How was the shoot?"

"Attrocious."

"Wonderful."

Jess and Katie stared at each other.

"Well, it was wonderful for you, you snogged Ron the entire time," said Jess. "Frankly, I was trying not to go blind…"

"There was snogging and I missed it?" Donia pouted.

"Who's snogging what now?" Sarah made a sudden appearance, followed by an influx of Hufflepuffs.

"I snogged Ron." Katie patiently explained, trying to end this train of conversation and change the subject.

Sarah looked confused. "So what? They swap fluids all the time…"

"Sarah!" shrieked Katie.

"They swapped fluids on film." explained Donia.

"Donia!"

Sarah raised an impressed eyebrow and nodded approvingly. "Hm. Kinky."

"Kinky, yes," agreed Jess. "But I doubt it'll do anything for our cause besides, maybe, turn Scrimgeour on…"

Katie turned on her. "You weren't exactly yelling 'Cut!' either, Miss Director!"

"I told you," said Jess with a quirked lip. "I was trying not to go blind."

Sarah and Donia's sniggering was interrupted by an exceedingly tidy Slytherin boy with stylishly trimmed incoming facial hair and a scarf fashionably looped around his neck.

"Donia! Donia!" cried Jon excitedly. "Look what I have! Fabric swatches!"

"Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrilliant!" Donia clapped her hands imperiously, looped her arm in Jon's and led him to the very end of the Gryffindor table.

Her three friends and more than a few Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins wondered if Hell had frozen over.

"Guys?" said Sarah. "Anyone else worried by the fact that our little goblin's making friends with other ghouls?"

"Worried," snorted Jess. "I'm downright scared. You should've seen the other one, too…"

"What other one?" asked Katie turning back to look at Jess.

"The tall blond one that's currently walking towards them."

The three girls silently observed the tall blond Slytherin (who just happened to be Lars, of course) distractedly walk over to Donia and the other boy, who were so preoccupied with comparing fabric that they didn't even notice him standing there at first.

"My GOD, he's hot," said Sarah suddenly.

"Uhum," agreed Jess. "In that Slytherin kind of way."

"I like Ron." said Katie.

"BETS!"

The three muggles jumped violently.

Behind them, Fred and George had just leapt on to the Gryffindor table with their roster and money box.

"BETS!" yelled George again. "Come on! You know you want to be a part of the biggest adventure of the year yet!"

"Ladies and gents, you know that trouble's brewing, specifically trouble designed by yours truly and Miss Ogle over here," Fred went down on one knee and took Sarah's hand and kissed it.

"So hand us a penny-"

"Each!"

"- and you might make a kill!"

"We know we will!"

Sarah laughed excitedly and clambered on to the table with them. "You heard what the boys said! Come on people! Don't miss the excitement! Bet on a colour! You have four! Red, green, yellow or blue!"

"How are we going to know who picked the right colour?" asked Seamus.

"Trust me," grinned Sarah, as George conjured her a top hat out of thin air and Fred conjured her a cane. "Trust me Mr. Finnegan. You will know by tomorrow morning! Everyone'll know!"

"How's that?" Seamus frowned suspiciously.

"It'll be obvious." snapped the twins.

"Buck up, Finnegan," Lee Jordon gave the younger boy a gentle punch in the arm. "Are you bettin' or what?"

A hysterical scream suddenly interrupted the proceedings. Everyone fell quiet and worriedly turned to the source of the sound only to find that it had been Donia…..and she was actually laughing.

Infact, she was close to comatose with laughter. In contrast, Jon, the shorter Slytherin boy sitting on the table next to her, seemed almost comatose with horror. His deep blue eyes were wide with shock and his mouth was the perfect mortified 'O' shape. The tall Slytherin stood there, looking straight at the floor, face red with pure embarrassment, eyes angry behind his glasses.

Donia realised she was being watched and gasped, "Oh…so…so….sorry! I- I'm alright…"

People turned back to the betting or to their lunch.

"What do you think that was about?" wondered Katie.

"Who knows? Whatever it was, it amused her." remarked Jess, still sifting through her handiwork on the camera.

"And scarred the boys."

"Typical, really."

Donia was trying desperately to breath, but it wasn't working.

"It's not funny!" moaned Lars.

Jon hadn't closed his mouth yet.

"On the contrary, Lars," sighed the girl. "I think it's hilarious."

The boys let her laugh a little more. Then they all fell silent, looking off into space as they contemplated the bizarre news Lars had just delivered.

"Boy's got shit for brains," murmured Donia.

"Eh?" started Lars.

"Your almighty leader," clarified Donia. "Draco. He's one crayon short of a box o' Non-Toxics."

"You know, a week ago," Lars took his glasses off his nose and gave them a much deserved cleaning with his tie. "I would've punched you in the face for saying that."

"And now?"

He sighed. "Draco's got shit for brains."

"Ata boy!" exploded Donia merrily. "You're coming along nicely! Hey, does this mean we get to make out and participate in other acts of Public Displays of Affection?"

Jon made a small gurgling sound.

"Close your mouth Jon, you're not a guppy." she remarked.

Lars smiled reluctantly. "I guess we're going have to, now…seeing as we're dating and all…"

"But…but…you can't! You're-" began Jon.

"I'm what?" Lars' eyes blazed.

Jon swallowed. "…..German?" Gay! And MINE! MINE!

Donia could almost hear Jon's inner thoughts screaming at Lars. It was all she could do not to start laughing again.

Lars simply looked bewildered with poor Jon for a minute. He generally didn't mind Jon. Infact he was predisposed to like the boy because, for a Slytherin, Jon was quite the underdog. But other than the general flag of welcomed oddity Jon raised in Lars' mind, the older boy really didn't know what to think of the younger one.

"I going to go eat my lunch, now. See you later." Lars turned and bumped into the corner of the Hufflepuff table. "Ow!"

"Hey!" yelled a Hufflepuff with soup all over his sleeve. "Watch it!"

"Fuck off." snarled Lars, reminding Donia that no matter how sweet he was to her, old Slytherin habits die hard.

Jon made another wounded whining sound.

She patted him consolingly on the back. "Cheer up, Jon. At least he's making out with me, not Draco."

"How's that supposed to be better?" howled Jon.

"I'm about as sexually appealing to Lars as a two-by-four."

"You'd be surprised…" mumbled Jon morosely.

Donia made a face. "Okay, ew. But other than the typical Slytherin sexual perversities, I'm as appealing to Lars as his little sister would be if he had one…."

"You'd be surprised…" muttered Jon, very matter of fact.

"Stop grossing me out, Jon!" She yelled. "You thank your lucky stars I'll be keeping his eyes off his precious Draco!"

Jon grumbled incoherently, arms crossed. Then he paled and panic and whispered, "He's coming back! He's coming back!"

And indeed, Lars was doubling back their way, much to the chagrin of the soup-soaked Hufflepuff.

If it were possible, he seemed even more distressed than before. "I forgot," he breathed, red in the face again. "I shouldn't have and I'm sorry, but I just totally forgot."

"Spit it out, Lars, forgot what?" Donia couldn't explain the sudden tightening band of fear she could feel around her heart.

"Draco's locked Stephanie in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

An explosion of noise frightened Steph into wakefulness. With conciousness came the blinding, piercing pain that comes long after limbs have gone numb.

Involuntary tears slid down her face, only making the low burning rage within her blaze again at this humiliation. Her head swam and her back and knees screamed in protest at their maltreatment. The Slytherins had made sure to truss her up in the most uncomfortable position they could think of, her wrists pulled behind her back and tied to her ankles, leaving her kneeling on top of a covered toilet.

She had long since slumped against the side of the stall ( bacteria or no bacteria) and a few blackouts had caused her to prop her head up using the wall, but she no longer had any control over her muscles.

"This one! This stall's locked!" Hermione! That was Hermione!

Steph tried to make a noise but the spell Draco had used to gag her held firm. It was a good thing too, because a moment later she let out a startled scream when the stalldoor suddenly buckled and bounced, shivering in its socket as if a rhinoceros had charged it.

"AW!"

"MotherFUCKER!"

Steph almost wept with glee. Sarah and Donia! And they'd charged the door! How wonderfully typical…if ineffective….

"You'll never open it like that….." said Moaning Myrtle floating over the stall. The ghost had lost interest with Steph early on in her abduction and floated off elsewhere to amuse herself. "They've warded it from the inside."

"Warded it!" Katie sounded panicked.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do about this then, eh?" shouted Donia.

"She's not making any sound," Jess worried.

"Stand aside." demanded Harry. "Ron, give me a leg up."

Steph heard heavy breathing and struggling. Her stall door rattled a few more times and she heard Ron's strained voice call, "Oh! Arg! A little help!"

Steph heard a scream and frightened cries. "Shit! Don't drop me!"

"Well you aren't exactly the malnutritioned ballerina you used to be when we first met, are you, Harry?" wheezed Ron.

"I need to see that lock in order to unlock it with my wand, Ron!"

Katie chimed in. "Why don't you both just lift Hermione?"

"We're wizards, dammit! Just levitate him already!" howled Hermione suddenly.

Silence.

"Levitatus," muttered Ron.

A moment later, Steph saw the black porcupine of Harry's dishevelled head emerge above the horizon of the stall door.

"That's it! A little to the left! I see her! Stop! Stop! I can see the lock! Alohamora!"

The padlock, an archaic looking thing in the shape of a gorgon's snaky head with gaping mouth as the keyhole, popped off the stall and fell to the floor with a heavy clang. Steph stared at it in disbelief and relief.

This time, the door did open when Sarah and Donia shouldered it. Steph, who'd systematically become imballanced by her excitement at being rescued, finally fell right off her perch, into Ron's arms.

The movement was agony and wreaked havoc with her already blood-deprived head. Lights buzzed and twinkled before her eyes, fizzing and floating across her eyes like rogue fireflies that no one else seemed to notice.

"Liberaté!" cried Hermione.

Steph felt a faint heat at her bound wrists and ankles, then the pressure of her bindings and gag fell away.

"She's still not moving." Sarah sounded worried.

"I….can't…." breathed Steph. It was strange. She'd suddenly lost all interest in actually trying. A serenity had settled on her, the kind of peace that made a drowning person breath in water.

"Why?" Jess' voice cracked.

"She has no feeling in her muscles." Donia suddenly came into Steph's view. Acid green eyes glowed in the darkness of the bathroom; Donia's controlled anger only served to pacify Steph. It was a funny feeling being friends with a dragon, sleeping under its wing; it was more comfortable than most people would assume.

"We could massage feeling back into them?" suggested Katie.

"It'll hurt like a bitch and we might do more damage," replied the Slytherin.

"How do you know this?" wondered Sarah.

"I remember from that time I shoved Billy Cresent into the locker in Fifth. He couldn't move for days…"

"Right," said Harry, taking control. "We've been pretty useless thus far. I say Ron, Hermione and I levitate Steph to Madame Pomfrey's and you guys go finish dinner…"

"What!" roared Sarah. "No way!"

"Impossible," said Jess. "We're coming with you."

"At least till we know that Steph's better. We can have dinner then." said Katie.

"But what about your plans for tonight?" asked Hermione. "What about Draco? And the Slytherins?

"They can wait," replied the Slytherin muggle. "Everything can wait. And Draco…he has another thing coming…"

As the three wizards walked out of the bathroom, wands raised, Steph floating serenely before them in mid air, Jess and Katie hung back behind the rest.

"Did you get anything?" Katie whispered, peering over Jess's shoulder.

"I got it all," replied Jess, pulling open the camera's side screen and replaying the part where Harry had unlocked the stall door and Steph had fallen out. "I'm telling you Katie, a bit of nifty editing here and there, an interview or two and we'll have that courtroom in our hands."

"Brilliant," said Katie. Then, she winced. "I feel bad using Steph's suffering as propaganda of any sort. Even if it is to save our lives."

"Well, don't. You should feel good about it; we're not faking all the things we're claiming the Slytherins do to us. This is the truth. We're not asking the Slytherins to work themselves into a corner, we're just filming it."

"I suppose."

Madame Pomfrey didn't know whether to be overjoyed or saddened by the fact that she now had a muggle in one of her beds needing far more care than Miss Parkinson had claimed to require.

She made sure the girl was comfortable and gave her a draught to put her to sleep, then she made sure the possé, which had refused to leave even for a second, was at least calm and quiet, before opening the wardrobe in her office and walking out, into Dumbledore's again.

Madame Pomfrey could not wait to see Dumbledore's face when he realised how naïve he'd been to trust Pansy Parkinson, of all people. Madame Pomfrey had always known that little girl was the kind to cry wolf; a regular little drama queen. Draco Malfoy always seemed to like that sort of girl.

Imagine her shock and horror when she found Dumbledore's office empty.

"Where did he go?" she murmured to herself.

"To the Ministry," replied an old witch, sipping from a teacup which quivered and shook due to the cerebral palsy obviously inflicted on the ancient woman holding it. "To enter the attacks on the Slytherins as evidence."

Steph came-to hearing the voices of her friends guide her to conciousness. Her body mildly ached, but other than that she felt comfortable.

She heard giggling, then, "Hush! Look! She's coming around."

The silence prompted her to open her eyes. Four pairs of peepers peered down at her from heads, that, for a moment appeared to have joined at the crown. She laughed dizzily realising that her friends had put their heads together…literally.

"Awwwwww," Katie put out a hand and stroked Steph's hair. "Hi, Fefu…"

Steph smiled widely and took a deep breath. "Wow," she slurred. "None of you've called me that since Infant school…"

"Well, we think it might be making a comeback," said Sarah, leaning over and kissing Steph on the forehead. "Kind of like you."

Steph raised her head slightly to look for the other two and found Jess sitting a little further down on the bed, still editing stuff on the camera, while Donia perched on the end of the bed, like the angel of death.

Donia crouched down and stroked Steph's legs. "We were playing a word game. We pick a letter and try to think of all kinds of words that begin with that letter. We just moved on from 'P'."

"Yes, we're on 'C', now." said Jess.

"But we're changing it. I don't like the letter 'C'." replied Donia.

"Why?" asked Steph groggily. "I like 'C'. 'C' is a very nice letter."

" 'C' is a horrid letter. All manner of horrid things begin with a 'C'."

"No they don't," insisted Steph. " 'C' is for cookie-"

"That's good enough for me?" interjected Sarah, but she was ignored.

" 'C'," continued Steph. "Is for cookie, and chocolate and caramel and cream…."

"It's also for carbohydrate, cholesterol, closed arteries, clots and cardiac arrest." stated the Slytherin mildly.

"Must you be so depressing?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I merely state the obvious," Donia twirled a hand and took a bow, making Steph, Jess and Katie laugh out loud. "Besides, it is the way of the Slytherin. Life must be tempered. All happiness must be bitter."

"You mean 'Bittersweet'?"

"No."

"Anyway," Jess interrupted. "We need to let you rest, Steph. We promised Madame Pomfrey we would as soon as we made sure you were alright."

"No!" pleaded Steph sleepily. "Stay, you guys. It's early…"

"Actually, it's not, Fefu. It's close to nine o'clock and I think we're all exhausted and hungry," Katie took Steph's hand and patted it consolingly.

"Nine! Oh no! The day's over! The day's over and you haven't completed any of your plans!"

"It's alright," Donia reassured her. "Tomorrow's another day. And revenge is a dish best served cold."

Steph chuckled. "Thank you," she murmured rolling over in bed and finally letting go of Katie and Sarah's hands. "Thank you…"

The others said nothing, but stood buy solemnly and silently till they were sure their friend was fast asleep.

Then, slowly they began to file out of the infirmary.

"Donia, Sarah, we need to talk to you two."

The Slytherin and Hufflepuff muggle looked at each other to see if they knew anything about what this was about, but only discovered equal amounts of oblivion in the other's questioning gaze.

Jess took a deep breath. "Sarah, can you postpone tonight's activities till tomorrow?"

"WHAT!" roared Sarah. "NO WAY!"

"Sarah, please. We need Donia to be well rested-" began Katie.

"Why?" asked Donia.

"We want you to come to court with us tomorrow morning." said Jess putting a hand out and grabbing the Slytherin's hand pleadingly. "Please?"

"Why?" asked Donia again, this time more surprised than suspicious.

"Yeah! Why!" demanded Sarah in a tone that implied that this better be good.

"We need a lawyer." Jess stated plainly.

"Excuse me?" Donia blinked.

"You're good at this sort of thing," whined Jess, opening her baby blues wide. "Pleeeeeeeeeeease! Puh-leeeeeeeeease! Please please please!"

"Okay, so you need a lawyer. What do I have to do with all of this? You're doing a great job, Jess. Harry said so."

"He was being nice," admitted Jess, grimacing. "I really sucked. We need you; you can talk your way out of anything. We watched you talk circles around our headmasters and headmistresses for years! It's almost a fluke when you actually wind up going to detention, at school."

"This is ridiculous!" fumed Sarah. "What about the plans we've been hatching out with the twins? I can't put everything we've planned on hold for this sudden cock-a-mamey plan of yours, Frey! We've put out bets and everything! There's more money involved in this than there was at the beginning and now you're SWOOPING RIGHT IN AND SABOTAGING EVERYTHING! I FUCKING HATE THIS!"

"I'm sorry Sarah, but would you rather lose face in front of the twins or actually LOSE YOUR FACE, LITERALLY, WHEN VOLDEMORTE FRIES IT OFF YOUR THICK SKULL!"

"Guys! Guys!" Katie leapt between the both of them. "Please! Keep it down! We're still really close to the infirmary. Let's discuss this like adults!"

"I'm NOT a bloody adult and I DON'T want to discuss this," hissed Sarah. "As far as I'm concerned, this is fucking unfair but Jess is going to get her stupid way as usual-"

"May I say something?" began Donia.

"NO." snapped her three friends.

"Okay."

"Look," said Katie. "What can we do to help you cancel tonight's plans without looking like a complete idiot?"

"You can tell Jess to fuck right off," snarled Sarah.

"YOU fuck right off!" screamed Jess.

"Guys," interjected Donia.

"WHAT!" they turned towards her, faces red, eyes tearful and blazing.

Taking a deep, cool breath, the Slytherin said, "Here's an idea; why can't I do both?"

Silence.

"Both?" muttered Sarah.

"Yes, both; defined in the Oxford Dictionary as a word used when refering to two of anything in the same action. Both."

"But…but you can't. You're tired already, you'll be absolutely floored by court time tomorrow." said Jess.

Donia shrugged. "I'll get some sleep. The plan will only take about an hour or so to complete. Besides, lack of sleep makes me bitchy and sarcastic which will ultimately be a good thing if you seriously want me to defend us in court."

Silence again.

Donia smiled neutrally, turned on her heel and began to stride away in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" asked Katie.

"To pee. Haven't done that in ages. Feel like my freakin' bladder's on fire…"

Her friends watched her disappear down the corridor.

"Right," said Jess, as if waking up from a trance. "Sarah, I need an interview to finish off this video. Would you answer a few questions on film?"

"Yeeeeeah, sure, why not?"

Katie rolled her eyes.

The morose giant clock in the tower struck twelve and reverberated all the way down into the dungeon where Draco had just finished his last assignment for the night. As he rolled up the parchment and tied it tidily with the black satin ribbon from the roll he'd specifically bought to use on is homework, he could feel his shoulders unknott and relax from a tension he had not known he'd had.

He stretched, and brought his hands up to massage his own shoulders. He'd had a good day today but his back was still killing him. While stretching, the proximity of his face to his armpit alerted him to the fact that perhaps his BO was becoming less than stellar. He hadn't showered after Quidditch practise, yesterday, because he'd been busy coaching Pansy on what to say to Dumbledore.

He grinned thinking of his well-trained vixen delivering the report of her most award worthy performance to date. "Draco: one, muggles: zerooooooooo!" he gloated, swinging back on his chair, feet braced against his writing desk, head pillowed in his arms. Then, he got up and went to fetch his bathrobe and hair conditioner. It was time for a bath. A long, luxurious, languid, luscious…no, not luscious….Draco hated the word 'luscious'. It sounded a lot like 'Lucius' which made it gross when used in carnal connotations. So he was off to take a bath that was long, luxurious and languid but not luscious….(shiver).

Yes, he could truly count on Pansy to come through in a glitch. It helped, too, that she was quite pleasing to the eye. Not beautiful like Blaise, of course, but her sharp prettiness did come in handy when Draco set her on people.

Blaise.

Draco frowned as he put his towel and pyjamas over his arm and grabbed his toothbrush off his nightstand. Once upon a time, Blaise could've run circles around Pansy. Then, in third year, things changed. Blaise had become…toned down, reclusive, sad, ever since.

Draco Malfoy, Scion of Conquerers, Nemisis of Meek-Scar-Faced-Bespectacled-Orphans-Everywhere, Terrorist Extraordinaire, gave a woebegone sigh and wanted his mummy.

Oh well, Draco shrugged and walked out of his suite. Blaise was a big girl; she'd take care of herself. He pulled his door ajar, never actually bothering to shut it completely; a leader within his people didn't need to do things that mundane.

And right now, the snores of his people were reverberating around him. Getting to the end of the corridor, he could hear one of the first years whimper softly. It was rough, but some of the First Years didn't adjust so well to life in the dungeons…especially if the Bloody Baron was standing over them in their sleep.

Draco shivered again and hoped that the Baron hadn't gone back to that nasty habit. The corridor ended and the warm orange glow of the fire on green…everything…reached his light-starved eyes. Like him, some of his beloved upper-year peers were still up wrestling with Snape's impossibly difficult assignment.

Pansy, obviously done her assingment, sat curled by the fire, reading one of Lars' books. She looked up and smiled at him as he passed. He put a hand out and stroked her cheek.

"Did you ask him if you could borrow that?" Draco grinned at his kitten.

"No need. When he finds it gone, he'll know I took it," she replied. "Besides, he's dating a muggle. Nothing I do could even compare to that…"

"Please, don't remind me," growled Draco in absolute disgust. "Now I really need a bath…"

"Taa, darling. Enjoy!" she sang. "Oh, and Draco! Do try to use up all the foamy bubbles. It'll piss Granger off royally."

He laughed wickedly at her cheek as the painting swung shut behind him.

Pansy sat there chuckling merrily to herself and intending to get back to her book, when she heard a surprised gasp from one of the Slytherins sitting behind her, studying in the common room, and felt a shadow fall across the pages.

She looked up, startled, and went pale at the expression on Lars' face, as he looked down on her, his arms crossed over his chest.

Giving her a moment to register his presence, Lars leaned forward, grabbed the book from between her friends, snapping it shut on one of her fingernails, consequentially ripping it off.

"AAAAOW! Lars!" she shrieked, clutching her hand to herself. "My nails, you jerk!"

"Oh, caught a claw, did I?" he murmured. "Oh well, it won't hinder you, much, Parkinson. You only need your lips to kiss Draco's arse."

Professor Flitwick was bored out of his mind. The only reason he was patrolling this portion of the corridor was because he'd drawn the short straw in the Staff Room and Draco Malfoy tended to steal into the Prefect's Bathroom at obscene hours of the night in order to have his way with the foamy bubbles.

This, of course, had only served to inflame the already rocky relationship between Malfoy and the rest of the Prefects, particularly Miss Granger, and the meeting called to address the issue had not gone well. Miss Granger had called Mr Malfoy a selfish, egotistical prick and Mr. Malfoy had made a remark pertaining to her not needing foamy bubbles, but instead to shift her concentration to a strong, fortifying protein conditioner.

The comment, of course, had not gone down positively, and the result was the Professors had decided to nip the problem in the butt and prevent after hours bathing entirely.

So, twirling his wand like a baton, Flitwick sleepily patrolled the corridor outside the Prefects' Bathroom. He, of course, failed to spot Draco Malfoy sneaking in for his regular midnight bath.

Nor did he spot the force of elite Ninja warriors who had managed to sneak into the bathroom before Mr. Malfoy.

Okay, so maybe they weren't exactly an elite Ninja force.

Okay, so maybe they were mediocre at best and one of them stubbed her toe badly upon their entry, barely managing to withhold a squeal and colourful cursing thanks to the multiple hands clamped on her mouth and dragging her into the bathroom.

Sarah shut the bathroom door softly behind them and ripped he ski-mask off her face. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

"-motherfuckingsonofashiteatingsyphillusriddenderangedwhore!" replied Donia grabbing her foot and jumping up and down in one spot.

"Yup, she's fine." declared Sarah, making the announcement to the rest of the worried party.

"- fucking lost a toe…..on a fucking mission….I feel like an Navy Seal…" The Slytherin hobbled forward comically as the remainder of the mediocre Ninja Force lowered the buckets of Switchin's Smurf Blue dye very gently and ripped off their own ski-masks.

"That was very good, men," Sarah beamed proudly.

"Yeah. Asides from me losing my littlest piggy, that was flawless." Donia nodded consent.

"Well, let's not bugger it up now," said George impatiently.

"Yeah, let's dump this shit and get going," said Fred.

"Good idea," said Sarah. "Donia, you still have Harry's magical map-thing?"

"Yeah, right here."

"You be careful with that," Fred remarked pointedly.

"Took us a lot of weaselling to get it off him without Granger picking up a scent," finished George.

"Alright, chill, you two. It's not like I was gonna use it to sponge bathe myself," snarled the Slytherin, opening the Marauders' Map. There was a moment's silence as she checked on their target's progress, then she quickly but carefully folded it up again and stuffed it down her turtleneck collar. "He's about five minutes away, trying to avoid McGonagal patrolling some obscure but uncomfortably close hallway."

"We better move our buttocks, then," said Sarah. "Right, boys. Lift!"

The Weasley twins and the three upper year Hufflepuffs expressly chosen, for their level-headedness, to partake in this escapade, bent their knees to lift a heavy bucket of dye in each hand.

"This way to the bubble pumps," said Donia leading the way.

"Are you sure Lars gave you the right information?" asked Sarah.

"I totally am, Sarah. I trust Lars. If he said Draco would use the foamy bubbles, then it's the foamy bubbles he'll use, no two ways about it." The Slytherin found the door to the side room which just happened to hold all the mechanics required to run the Prefects' bathroom and opened it with ease.

"He didn't happen to tell you which pump holds said Foamy bubbles, did he?" asked Fred suddenly.

And for good reason.

There was six large pumps, each for a kind of bath related recreational substance, in this room and none of them happened to have indications as to which one held what.

"Shit," hiss Sarah.

"A hole in my plot." murmured Donia listlessly. "There had to be a hole in my plot….I'm losing my touch…."

"We don't have time to open all of them, do we?" asked George.

"No, we don't," Sarah answered quickly, turning to grab the frozen Donia by the shoulders and shaking her like a rat. "Come, Sawwan! Pull it together! Think! Think! Thou arte the plotter of plots! The schemer of schemes! The-"

A giggle sounded from over head. They all tilted their heads back.

It was Moaning Myrtle.

Donia grinned.

"Oh Myyyyyyyyyyyyyrtle? Would you so kindly tell us which pump holds the foamy bubbles, please?"

"Why would I do that?" cooed Myrtle.

"Because," And here, the Slytherin muggle got a very nasty look on her face. "Because, I hear the Bloody Baron's never actually been to your bathroom for a visit…"

Draco Malfoy waited till Flitwick had rounded a corner, then skipped his decadently robed way into the Prefect's bathroom. Gloating over: 1. Flitwick's failure, 2. Granger's expression in the morning, 3. How he'd single-handedly managed to expel the muggles from Hogwarts using Dumbledore's own testimony, he turned the taps to 'Hot Water' and began to disrobe.

He was so busy gloating, of course, that he never noticed that the doorway to the room with all the pumps and pipes in it was slightly ajar, which, to say the least, should've struck him as weird. He was so busy gloating that when he saw a muddy footprint by the side of the piscine, he frowned but thought no more of it besides the fleeting mental note to have a stern word with Filch, and slam a few Elven fingers in stove doors. He was so busy gloating, as he slid into the warm water, that when Moaning Myrtle floated out of the pipe room, saying "I wouldn't do that, if I were you…" as he turned on the taps to the foamy bubbles, he told her to "Shut up." and go find a pipe to clean with her face.

Infact, he was so busy gloating the he never noticed that the water now pumping in beneath the original white foamy bubbles was now turning a very, very unusual shade of cerulean blue.

The wisps of dark colour flared and snaked through the water like blood, with the beauty of a limbless sea creature, fading to nothing, at first, before the water began to darken from a barely visible tinge to a dark, inky soup.

Draco noticed nothing.

He dove and bubbled and played, keeping eyes closed beneath the soapy water to prevent stinging. He guggled and giggled and glidded through the warm expanse of the bath, making sure to rinse his hair carefully and to soak every part of himself, including his face.

He was in there for an entire hour when he began to feel relaxation give way to drowsiness. Now, he wanted his warm bed.

He whistled as he dried himself off and put on his pyjamas, then donned his night robe as opposed to his bathrobe. He towelled his hair dry but never actually took a look at the towel, or he would have seen the bright blue stains he'd left on it. He tossed it into the hamper and considered looking at himself in the mirror but decided he'd blow dry tomorrow. He was too tired, now.

The last thing he did, before he left the bathroom, was pull the lever which released the plug in the bath.

He didn't stay to watch the water drain.

He might have been surprised by the lovely royal blue the tiles had turned, beneath.

Draco pranced into the Slytherin common room in a semi-exhausted manner. It had been a long day, after all, though his spirits were high enough to keep him buoyant despite his weariness. The time was close to one thirty in the morning so he really didn't expect anyone else to be up…besides Pansy, of course. The Slytherins were nighthawks, to be sure; but they all had class at eight in the morning. Pansy, though, always took things to a whole new level. Including staying up late.

"Darling, I used up all the bubbles. I can't wait to see Granger's face tomorrow morning. It'll be hilarious. Not to mention the look on her face when those muggles get tossed out on their….Pansy, stop gaping at me like that. Pansy!"

"Huh! What!"

"Stop gaping at me. I'm aware that I am possessed of abnormally fine features, but there's no need to stare quite so much with that loutish expression on your….what's wrong with you?"

Pansy stared straight into Draco's mildly worried/ mostly irritated face. She gulped; he really had no idea.

"Draco," she began gently, hoping that her calm tone would curb the insane panic that was eminent. "Draco…why are you blue?"

And that is it, Ladies and Gents!

The next chapter includes:

Well...the rest of this chapter!

The verdict of the trial, Sarah Ogle's biggest moment yet, Steph and Snape's worst clash yet, or, depending on your point of view, their best. Katie's terrifying scene with the paintings, Jess goes to class with the Ravenclaws and Draco learns a hard lesson about crossing Donia.

So until next time, let me leave you with a few crucial questions:

1. WHy are the paintings oozing black?

2. What will it take to win over the Ravenclaws?

3. What colour ligerie will I have Steph wear in THIS chapter?

4. What DOES 'Hydro-Sensitive' dye mean anyway?

5. Is this the end of the line? Will the muggles be tossed out of Hogwarts? Actually, the answer is 'Yes'...