September 1995

"I'm telling you, Draco and Luna are up to something," Harry whispered to Ron.

"Where'd you get that idea?" Ron whispered back.

"I saw them on the Map, in that abandon classroom near the dungeons. They were alone and very, very close." Harry whispered back.

"Good. Maybe he's moved on from my sister. It would be nice if fewer people were salivating over her." Ron glared at Harry.

"Your sister is too good for Draco to just give her up." Harry defended.

"Shouldn't you be happy that he's apparently moved on? It means your dumbass little pissing contest can come to an end." Ron muttered.

"Look, I've been competing with Draco since we were three. I know him. He's not giving up this easily." Harry scoffed. Just then, Snape walked by and shoved their heads apart. The time for talking was over and the time for Potions homework had come.


"I heard she yelled at him. In the middle of the common room." A Ravenclaw whispered in Arithmancy.

"What gives that fat cow the right?" A Hufflepuff speculated quietly in Potions.

"It's not like the Weasley twins would ever stay with her. I mean, have you seen how big she is. She's like her own planet." A Gryffindor snickered in her friend's ear on the way to Herbology.

"Loud, bossy, and a pig. It's a wonder she managed to swing one in the first place." A Ravenclaw sniffed in Ancient Runes.

"Do you think she blackmailed him? That's the only possible option." A Slytherin sniffed in Astronomy. And that was just the beginning.


"I told you that she wouldn't go for it." Lee sighed, leaning against a wall.

"You did not!" Fred shouted, anger getting out of hand.

"I hate to break it to you, but Lee did tell you. I told you. Common sense would have told you, had you been paying attention." George huffed.

"She's been on board for everything! She's done half the research for most of our products." Fred ranted. "How was I supposed to know that making prefect would change that?"

"I'm sorry? Did you never talk about it? You had several weeks before school started where you could have figured this out." Lee glared in disbelief.

"She'd just got back from visiting her ex-boyfriend in Bulgaria. You know, Viktor Krum, the international Quidditch star, who gave her top box seats to the greatest game of the season! No, we didn't talk about her prefect schedule when she came home!" Fred shouted again, trying to glare a hole through Lee's skull.

"Yeah… Didn't she introduce him to a half-veela who claimed him as hers? Loudly and at length?" George asked, cocking an eyebrow at his twin.

"That's not the point!" Fred argued. "The point is, I just assumed that she would go along with it. She's gone along with a lot of it so far, why would this be any different?"

"Are you serious?" George asked. Fred glared at him, so George continued. "She's a Muggleborn. Do you know how many of them are prefects? Three. Her and two Ravenclaws. The rest are half or pure. She can't give preferential treatment. It's quite possible that she could lose her position."

"Excuse me, you were right there with me. You never stopped me." Fred accused.

"I didn't particularly want to, did I?" George answered back.

"Look, nothing's getting accomplished with us standing around out here, is it?" Lee sighed wearily. Fred had been blaming them for Hermione's attitude for over a week. "She's not looking for us. Hell, none of the prefects are looking for us. We've got sixteen little first years coming during their break. Let's just take advantage of that and get some testing done before your bird figures out what we're up to."

"Yeah, fine. But we can't test the Puking Pastilles." Fred agreed, walking into the abandoned classroom on the first floor.

"Oh? And why is that?" George asked, staring Fred down.

"I may have given the whole bag to Hermione," Fred mumbled, running a hand through his hair. He missed the sound of several girls sighing as they passed by. "She didn't like something in the recipe, said it was a common allergen or something, and confiscated them over the summer. She fixed the recipe, but I haven't gotten around to making any more just yet."

"What'd she do with them?" George asked, concerned.

"Burned them or something I suppose. She's gotten rid of them, for sure. She's really opposed to them. Says they're dangerous or something." Fred shrugged.

"Well, that's good. Don't want her selling those on the black market, do we?" Lee tried to joke. Fred wasn't having any of it and just glared and walked into the classroom, leaving George and Lee alone.

"Great, now we have to put up with a pissed off super-prefect and Fred and Harry, the broody boys." Lee groused.

"Seventh year's not quite the dream Bill and Charlie made it out to be, is it?" George stared and the empty door his brother had passed through. Trying to lighten the mood, he quickly added, "Sooo, tell me about you and Angie. You seemed pretty cozy last night on the couch."


Ginny Weasley never thought of herself as a diplomat, but in their current situation, she wasn't above it. When she entered the library and made all the necessary turns to the secret door that magically appeared when she needed it the most, she was surprised her master plan was going to work.

Shutting the door, she smiled at the rest of the fourth year students. Ever since her second year, she, like the rest of her classmates, knew they were special. While they all came from different backgrounds and had vastly different personalities, they stuck together. A unified class. This year, they would test that. Her little scheme also helped her avoid certain drama in her life, something she did not have time to think about at the moment.

"Hello, everyone," Ginny said as she set her books down. The room had a round table, where all of the students were in a circle. "Who's in charge of this week's chapters?"

"Slytherin," one of her classmates said, standing up and passing out copies of their notes. "We'll start on page 272. We don't need wands, it is all theory."

"Before we do," a Hufflepuff student interjected, "Can we just talk about the look on Umbridge's face when she gave us the second-year book?"

They all laughed. It was all a part of their secret plan. If they wanted to learn something new this year, they had to do three things. First, get ahead of Umbridge's plan together. If they didn't, no one would be allowed to progress. Second, they would have to, as Ginny's mother would say, "kill her with kindness." Lastly, they would have to laugh, or else the misery of their situation would rear its ugly head.

"She about croak, pun intended," A Ravenclaw said as the room laughed. Yes, unified indeed.


Hermione, unfortunately, was immune to idle degradation. It was something she had become used to in the last four years at Hogwarts. Being a female genius was a major social handicap. Being a fat, female genius made her a social pariah. Except, of course, amongst the Ravenclaws, but they wanted her for brain only.

Her brain. Hermione prided herself on being objective. She could completely remove her emotions from any given situation and find the logical solution. It was how she beat the potions riddle first year, figured out the basilisk second year, and guided Harry through the Tri-Wizard tournament the year before. So, she stood in front of the mirror in the Prefects bathroom and decided she would be objective.

Fat thighs, fat face, fat stomach, fat everything. That's what she saw. So, she came up with a plan. Research. She needed to research her way to a healthier weight. She had, mistakenly, thought that just getting from class to class in a giant castle would be enough exercise. She was, apparently, wrong. So she was going to have to do something else. The others were lucky, she continued to speculate. They were athletes, and athletes burn calories quickly. If she weren't so afraid of falling off a broom to certain death (Thanks, Harry, for that continual demonstration) she would take up Quidditch. It couldn't be that hard to be a beater.

Hermione pondered her dilemma while she showered and prepared for her day. She decided to research in the library. Heading that way, she decided to skip breakfast. Eating disturbed the thought process in any event. The library always offered answers. Down, down, down the stairs, she went to the library. Really, walking this castle every day should be doing the trick. She didn't know why it wasn't. Books, she needed books. They would solve this problem.

On her way in, several more whispers followed her to her favored study table. She ducked her head and tried not to let it bothered her. She was more logical than this, she tried to convince herself. She mentally squared her shoulders and went on. Girls were mean, she knew this. Ginny had faced worse as an eleven-year-old. Hermione was not going to let this get the better of her. With that, she walked to her table and began studying.


"Hermione, why are you studying NEWT level Defense Against the Dark Arts texts?" Ginny asked quietly, sitting next to her friend.

Hermione continued reading for several seconds before she realized the redhead had addressed her. "Oh. You're talking to me."

"Of course I'm talking to you." Ginny scoffed. "Now, the Defense texts?"

"I want to pass my OWLs. So, I'm doing what I've always done, I'm teaching myself. It's the best way to learn, really." Hermione answered. "Why are you talking to me? Ron's not."

"Ron's a twat. Why wouldn't I talk to you? Fred knows better than to take advantage of his girlfriend. I know, I already wrote to Bill about it." Ginny shrugged. "Is that why you're taking all your meals in the library? Because of my idiot brothers?"

"Speaking of Bill," Hermione said, dodging the question. "How are things coming between him and Fleur?"

"Pretty good. She moved to London to work for Gringotts, you know. So that helps." Ginny replied, lowering her voice when Madam Pince glared at her.

"If they both live in London, why are they wearing out their owls sending their love letters to you first?" Hermione asked.

"Because they don't know how to talk to each other! They blather on, the both of them!" Ginny whisper screamed before calming herself. "That reminds me, I need you to look over Fleur's latest letter. I know French, but not that much French. Here, take a peak."

Hermione started scanned through Fleur's letter for several second before she slammed it down and stared at Ginny, a spectacular blush covering her cheeks. "No, I don't suppose you know those particular words."

"I thought it sounded dirty," Ginny said with an evil smirk. "Just one question, my prefect friend, how do you know what those words are?"

"How does any native speaker know those words? Context and repetition. None of your brothers sat you down one day and gave you a dictionary. You figured it out from clues."

"No, I figured it out by asking Bill. When he blushed and told me to ask Mum when I was older, I went to Charlie. He taught me everything." Ginny corrected.

"Gah! You're lucky you have all these brothers!" Hermione huffed.

"No, I'm not. They're all trying to impress you so that you'll stay with Fred. When they've decided you won't leave for anything, they'll hold you down at Christmas and fart on you until you pass out." Ginny glared at Hermione. "Three years in a row."


Listen here, you utter wanker!

Fred could already tell this was going to be painful. It was a good thing he, George, and Lee had taken up avoiding the Great Hall in case Hermione came down for meals. Having the two of them witness this was going to be bad enough.

She's a prefect, dipshit! She's not going to give you preferential treatment! No one would respect her if she did, least of all you.

"Damn Ginny to the depths of hell." Fred groused as George laughed.

And you, George.

"Oi! What did I do?" George asked the Howler.

You know what you did, arsehole! You let him do it! You let him try to take advantage of his girlfriend. For your own shits and grins. Where the hell did I go wrong with the two of you? When Mum finds out, and you can both bet your happy arses she will, she'll skin you both alive. I'm sure by now you've already broken her heart more than Percy the Prat!

"That's a low blow, Bill," Fred muttered as Lee whistled.

And that is not a low blow. Percy just deserted the family for the Ministry. You've both deserted the family morals. Taking advantage of a teenage girl! You'd kill any boy who did that to Ginny. At least, I assumed you would, but now I'm not so sure.

"He's getting rambly. That means this'll end soon." Fred said with a huff.

"He doesn't know how to wrap things up, that Bill." George agreed.

And one last thing. If you think this is bad. Wait until you get Charlie's Howler.

The twins looked at each other in pure terror before exclaiming, "Shit!"


Gabs: To defend myself: I spend a lot of time with teenage girls. Recently, I was a teenage girl. That's how teenage girls act and talk. Much it was improvised from direct quotes.

Kat: Sorry for not posting last week. It was Thanksgiving here in America, and Gabs and I binge watched a ton of television for one of my papers. It wasn't as pleasant as it sounds.

Gabs: 12 hours later and I fully support never letting anyone watch television ever again. Except for Teen Wolf, that one was surprisingly good.

Kat: Let's not debate that now… Thanks to those of you who review. As always, we really do love reading them and discussing what you say. I believe it made us reevaluate some of our original plot even!

Gabs: Now's not the time. The time for that is later. For now, thanks to all! And be prepared for sporadic updates through the holiday season.

XOXO

Gabs & Kat