A/N So...it's...been a while, hasn't it? It's been a while since...I've done anything on fanfiction, really. But yeah, here we are, back again! For whatever reason my love for the Harry Potter series has been rekindled so chances are I'll actually update this now and again...hopefully. I'll try my best. As always...leave reviews/comments, if you'd be so kind. I really don't care that much about getting a lot of reviews, but they make me feel like I'm not being ignored, and I enjoy reading them. And yes, I am actually really working on the next chapter! Amazing, isn't it? I think so. But I digress. Please read and enjoy!

Ten

"Good morning, class!" Professor Sprout shouted cheerily as she stepped into the greenhouse, her arms full of bags of fertilizer. She was met by a response of half-hearted groans and mumbles.

As she began giving instructions on the day's lesson, I looked far to my right past the line of my fellow Slytherins to where the Gryffindors were congregating. It looked like the Golden Trio had found the Puffapods and were currently trying to avoid the petals raining down on them. Sighing, I turned back to Professor Sprout.

"…..And THAT, class, is why Screechsnap does NOT like having too much manure. Now along with that…"

"Did you know that Screechsnap is actually semi-sentient?" Reese whispered from beside me. Good old Reese. Reciting random bits of history and general information at every possible chance available to him.

"Yes, Reese, I did know that. She just told us." I whispered back.

"Are you actually listening to her lecture?"

"Of course not. Why would I do that when I have you? Besides, we've already learned all of this."

"Be that as it may, if we ever have to have a test, it's going to be what she teaches, not what we've actually learned."

I knew that fact very well, especially after my first year at Hexwood after I had been home schooled for so long. I learned very quickly that it only matters what professors taught to be true rather than what was—well, at least on tests.

FLASHBACK

We were sitting in geography class, the day after a huge test. I was with Kindy and Alice. This was my first official test at Hexwood other than the entrance exams, and I was nervous. I mean, I was only seven. You couldn't blame me for it.

"Why do you even care?" Alice asked as I fidgeted in my chair.

"Why don't you?" I inquired.

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair with her feet on her desk. "Because I believe in only using my brains when the situation demands it. Otherwise, I could honestly care less. To participate in this test would be to support a flawed system. Since I don't believe in participating in anything that could be considered…flawed…" she paused "…well, you get my point."

"So… you...didn't take the test?" I asked. I couldn't understand why someone would come to Hexwood with that attitude. Hexwood was a place where people went to learn new things and study.

"No, I refused to partake in such a childish labeling."

Kindy leaned around Alice to look at me. "In other words, the only reason she's here is because her grandfather's the headmaster."

What? Her…grandfather…was…the…headmaster??????? The headmaster of Hexwood? The brilliant leader of the most accomplished Wizarding School in the entire world? And here his granddaughter was, a stubborn, angry little girl of nine years old.

"…Huh?" I uttered unintelligently.

"Yeah. It sucks." Alice said.

The teacher, Mrs. Wright, suddenly phased through the wall next to the door with the stack of tests floating beside her through the doorway, her boring face bearing the same old plain expression of a teacher that couldn't care less about teaching her students anything.

I leaned over to Alice. "Why didn't she just use the door?" But realizing that Alice was instead arguing with Kindy about whether or not it was permitted to use mechanical pencils in place of quills, I gave up and looked at Mrs. Wright.

"I have the results from yesterday's tests," she waved her hand and papers began flying out to their recipients.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before looking at my score.

.

.

.

.

I peeked at the paper and saw that I'd received a 99.5 percent out of 100. How could I have not gotten a perfect score? I had already learned all of this at home, and just to be sure I had studied diligently for the past week! There was no way in the world that I couldn't receive perfect marks on it! I blinked and began tearing through the sheets of parchment looking for the one question I had gotten wrong. It was number 63:

63) Which dragon species is indigenous to Peru?

a) Peruvian Vipertooth

b) Chinese Fireball

c) Hebridean Black

d) Andes Razortooth

I had chosen a). Apparently that was wrong. How could it be wrong? It was Peruvian! I leaned behind Alice and showed it to Kindy and she told me to go up and speak with Mrs. Wright.

So I did.

This was how it went:

"Mrs. Wright," I said innocently. "I don't understand how this answer could be wrong." I held the test up for her to see.

"Oh, but the correct answer is d)," she said without looking up at my poor little face.

"But…the Peruvian Vipertooth is native to Peru," it made sense to me. I don't know about her, but it did to me. I mean, it was the Peruvian Vipertooth. It seemed to me that the Peruvian Vipertooth, that inhabited Peru, would be the correct answer for such a question as "What dragon species is indigenous to Peru." It was obvious. I had already gone over the material during my home schooling classes, just before taking the entrance exams before being accepted here into Hexwood. And I had gone through all of my textbooks and tried desperately to memorize the material so I could make a good impression on the teachers here and convince them that they had done a good thing by accepting my entrance exam scores.

"Yes, but we haven't learned that yet this year." She stated, still not looking up.

"But—it's—Peruvian," I persisted. "And why would you have a right answer and then tell me it's wrong?"

"Miss Morvant, I'm not going to change your test score. Go sit down."

"But--"

"Now, Miss Morvant."

I dejectedly walked back to my seat and sat down in with a half-hearted wallumpf. Did it necessarily matter if we had learned it or not, so long as it was correct? There were a lot of things that teachers didn't teach that were still right. For instance, I don't think any teacher ever had to inform a student that breathing is necessary for life.

Then again, you never know.

END FLASHBACK

Remembering that day, I shuddered. I looked at the Golden Trio and narrowed my eyes. Somehow, someway, it was their fault. I'm not sure how and I'm not sure how sane that train of thought could possibly have been, but it was their fault.

Draco turned to me as if he could read my mind. "Welcome to my world, dear cousin."

"Shut up." I glared at him.

He smirked and turned away.

I sighed. That first year at Hexwood had been the year that I discovered that you have to answer things the way teachers want you to answer in order to pass your classes. From the very start, Hexwood's courses are rigorous and demanding, even for seven year olds like me. However, after you're old enough to actually watch out for yourself—about eleven or so—the teachers get actual personalities and the classes are focused around actual skills that could help you get out of a dangerous situation, like the survival class, where they randomly drop you into a rugged, foreign slice of wilderness in a dimension (not necessarily one known to most humans, magical and non) on the very first day of class. If you can survive for a week, then you can continue on at Hexwood. If you can't, well…you're kind of dead, so it doesn't really matter if you get kicked out of school or not. I mean, I suppose you could attend classes as a ghost, but unlike Hogwarts here, Hexwood doesn't have very many ghosts around. I'm not really sure why. It's still open for speculation.

But anyway, after that first year—well, that first class really—I was taught the art of B.. Bologna Sandwiching, as I was once told (by a teacher who was fully aware of the stares of young children around him.) According to him, B. is the delicate art of not actually writing down what you think or know on a worksheet or test but writing down what you know the teacher wants you to say. For example, if a teacher played a song that was supposed to make you feel happy or proud but in reality it made you feel the horrible weight of the lives of everyone around you pressing down on your shoulders and the sensation of icy dread forming in the pit of your stomach, you would write down "It made me feel very happy and proud" and you would eventually just have to shake off whatever awful feeling it really gave you.

Yes. Bologna Sandwiching.

"Alright, class!" Professor Sprout yelled. "Everyone, you will take the Screechsnap you have been raising and water it, give it fertilizer, remove any extra weeds that might have sprung up around it over the past few days, and feed it—remember, they don't fancy having liver shoved at them!"

Ah, Screechsnap. They snap, and they screech. That's all you need to know.

Reese followed me through my care of the Screechsnap affectionately named Ernald sometime during my previous Herbology session and then back to my original position at the table as I waited for something to do. I briefly considered assisting Seamus Finnegan get free from a nearby plant that had grabbed him around the neck with a thick green tendril, but then realized that it would be much more entertaining to just watch him struggle. Besides, it was the Slytherin way to just point and laugh at him.

"Having trouble, eh Finnegan?" Draco yelled.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Potter said angrily as the Trio got up to help Seamus with his slight problem.

"Ooh, scary," Draco sneered. "You still think you're so special, eh Potter? The boy who lived?"

It suddenly dawned on me that Draco had somehow managed to get rid of Casey and Aron and I wondered just how he had done it. They normally weren't very easy to lose. They have a built in GPS in their shared bran that reprograms itself to whatever they want to find again, be it a sock or a person.

"Draco," I asked as I observed the Gryffindors trying to pry Seamus away from the angry plant. "Where exactly are Casey and Aron?"

"Oh, they're eh—they're over there," he motioned over his shoulder.

"Where over there?"

"In the—the lake, trying to catch a Flimplejörn, presumably somewhere near the mermaid territory."

"Trying to—catch—a what?"

He shrugged. "I honestly have no idea. I heard that Lovegood freak say it once. Figured it would keep them occupied for the day."

"Oh. Okay then." I turned back to the table and looked at the bag of dirt sitting there in front of me. I turned sharply around to look at Draco. "They're in mermaid territory?!"

"Yep."

"Alone?"

"Well, they've got each other."

I jumped up. "Draco, they're idiots! They're not going to understand that the mermaids will act with hostility towards them until they're already being attacked! Who knows what's going to happen down there!"

He smiled. "I know."

I grabbed his shoulders. "Are you insane? They're going to get killed!"

The look of indifference on his face said it all.

"Really?" I asked.

"Like I said, they have each other, and I've been lucky enough to be rid of them for the past four hours."

"They've been at the bottom of the Black Lack for four hours?"

"Well, probably more like five."

"Five?"

"I'm not entirely certain how long it's been. I haven't been counting my hours of freedom very precisely."

I sat down again. "You know—just—never mind. I'm just going to savor this moment and not think about it."

It was Casey and Aron. They would come back. They always do. I knew that. It was just the fact that they had been tricked into swimming down to the bottom of the lake and searching for a Flimpl—Flimpe—whatever the hell Draco said that vexed me.

No matter. They would show up any minute now, probably having even captured a Flim—Flunple—that thing, whatever it was. Some sort of large fish, I'm guessing? Maybe? Yes. That had to be it.

"Just one question before we drop this subject altogether," I said. "How did you convince them to go searching for a—a Flim—Flip--"

"Flimplejörn."

"Whatever," I hissed. "How did you get them to go looking for it?"

"I told them that it was very rare and I wanted them to go catch it. So they left."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"They just…went away? In an instant?"

"They were there one minute and then poof."

"They just left."

"Yes."

"Wish it was always that easy," Reese muttered.

I clapped him on the back. "It'll be okay. Don't worry."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. He huffed and straightened up again. "Did you know that these greenhouses were erected in--"

I stopped listening to him at that point and looked at the Gryffindors again. They had finally managed to get Seamus away from the plant and most were returning to their seats along the table, with the exception of the Trio and Seamus, of course, who was busy dusting himself off and trying to act like nothing had happened.

"You know, I don't think I'll ever really get used to how funny this place is," I commented.

"Oh?" Reese asked.

"Yeah. You should see the Divinations classes. And it's always great in Potions when someone blows something up on accident."

"Sounds hilarious."

I looked at him. "You don't sound very sincere."

"Have I ever?"

"You're right. Never mind."

After class as we were walking out across the grounds to the castle, two familiar figures came running up from afar and stopped in front of Draco.

"We found the Flimplejörn!" Casey said excitedly. They were both sopping wet.

Draco groaned loudly. "And?"

"We're so sorry," Aron hung his head.

"It got away," Casey sniffled.

"Then go find it again!" Draco said angrily.

"Well you see, it was quite funny really," Casey grabbed Draco's arm.

"The mermaids apparently didn't want us around there," Aron continued.

"So they chased us away--"

"—But lucky for us they chased us straight to the Flimplejörn's cave, so we--"

"—Tried to catch it, but--"

"—It swam past us and then--"

"—We lost it," they finished together.

"That's alright," I said. "I'm sure Draco won't mind. I'd stay and continue this conversation, but I really should be getting back inside."

I left them there and Reese followed me into the castle before wandering off to who knows where and leaving me alone. I still had a bit of time before I had to be anywhere important, so I sat down on the staircase leading down to the dungeons, glad for some peace and quiet.

It didn't last long.

"Tonight," I looked up and saw Hermione standing there. "A meeting. Be there."

"Okay. Fine." I said.

"Just ask the twins or Luna. They'll take you there."

"Yeah. Uh huh."

Her mouth twisted into a smile. "You're not half bad for a Slytherin, you know."

I smiled back. "I try."