pH

by Procent

She came, she saw, she had a wand in her pocket.

Author's Name: Tanja
Author's Email: pH@swussian.com
Author's Homepage: www.swussian.com
Story Title: Procent Hydronium-Väinämöinen's and Bob, the Pro-Gender-Equality veela's exciting seventh year at Hogwarts. Chapter I: Genesis.
Summary: She came, she saw, she had a wand in her pocket.
Spoilers: yes please
Category: Romance/ epic/ sci-fi/ humour
Thankies: To my wife, friend and beta Priscilla.

Disclaimer: Procent belongs to me, Bob belongs to Priscilla, but Harry Potter (who isn't mentioneds in this chapter) and Co belong to JK Rowling

Procent Hydronium-Väinämöinen's and Bob, the Pro-Gender-Equality veela's exciting seventh year at Hogwarts

Chapter I: Genesis

Procent Hydronium-Väinämöinen sat on her neon-green trunk and ate chocolate frogs. It was her favourite spot in King's Cross- she could see the entrance barrier to the platform 9¾, towards which the tiny first years ran with desperate looks on their faces, but she was almost invisible to the crowd of Hogwarts students.

Procent was a seventeen-year-old girl. Her height and weight were as average as a sunrise in the morning. Her chest was flat as a piece of cardboard (okay, not quite as flat, but almost) and her hair was long and pink and set up in a messy knot. She had grey eyes that were hidden behind a pair of slightly askew glasses. She was one of those girls you could just start talking to at the street, because she wore a huge and highly visible wristwatch.

Procent sighed. Why did the wizard kids always have to wear so strange clothes? You just don't parade in central London in a tunic and tights. Not even if you have the finest legs since those old Barbies. Herself, she was wearing a black T-shirt with "EVEL" written in fire-sparkling stones and discreet black jeans. Her wand was, of course, sticking out of her pocket, but that was certainly less offensive to Londoners than the robes that many wizard parents were wearing.

A lady who was heading for exit from platform 9 seemed to share that opinion. "Is it some sort of a Satanist mass going on there?" she thought out loud.

"They are probably just going to some sort of fantasy role-play?" Procent answered helpfully. The woman looked down on her, and said "It is spelled E-V-I-L, not E-V-E-L, girl". Procent patiently answered that she happens to think that it looks better this way. The woman answered that Procent would never get a job if she continued to act like that and continued her way. Procent gave her a killing look. The woman tripped and a heel on one of her red pumps broke.

With a satisfied smile Procent put another chocolate frog in her mouth without thinking about what she was doing. She regretted it seconds later when she was reminded of the fact that they have cards in them. She spat out the water-and-dirt repelling piece of paper. It was a The Wicked Witch of the West card, one of the most rare ones, and Procent just started thinking about what she could do with it when she heard somebody behind her back say:

"Is it a wand in you pocket or are you just so happy to se me?"

She turned around to see Bob, the Pro-Gender-Equality Veela. "Both" she answered, and threw her arms around him. Procent had not seen Bob the whole summer, since he spent it as an exchange student in America. Now he had a healthy American tan and wore a light-blue vest that said "Homecoming queen" and a plastic tiara. Procent quietly decided not to ask him what he had done in the States.

Bob was gorgeous (as always). His golden blond hair was now long enough to brush his shoulders and his sky-blue eyes were twinkling with stardust. As the veela smiled he revealed a set of pearl-white teeth and his eyes sparkled even more. The tight vest hinted on the relief of muscles hidden under it and revealed the play of the biceps on his arms when he moved. Procent wondered where he got all those muscles from, since pumping iron was not on his "favourite ways to spend a sunny afternoon"-list.

"Have you seen anyone you know yet?" asked Bob who was now standing on his purple trunk with heart-shaped locks and checking the surroundings for familiar faces.

"No, not really." Procent answered standing up and picking up her trunk "Just some people I've been sharing room with for the past 6 years".

After fighting their way through teenage muggle girls who accidentally tripped into Bob's arms, Procent and Bob arrived to platform 9¾  ten minutes before the train was supposed to leave. The smaller kids were tear-eyed and excited. Procent cheered up a little boy by giving him a chocolate frog. Accidentally, it was one from Weasley Wizard Wheezes' and the first year started jumping around the platform uncontrollably. Procent and Bob hurried away from the crime scene.

"Oh look, the mud-blood and her magical creature! I hoped you were kicked out of school!" Draco Malfoy screamed behind their backs. This year's Malfoy-hunting season was officially open. Procent turned around to see the familiar aristocratic smirk. She made a mental note about how the annoying brat, pale and nosy, had turned into a youth. Still pale and nosy, but in a rather appealing way. After all the years in Slytherins' common room he was now so pale he was almost blue and that resembled slightly of an elegant corpse. His expensive black robes fit perfectly on the slender body and revealed an emerald-green T-shirt with "Slytherins are sexier" written in silver letters.

"Knowing how much power your father has, it's surprising that he didn't expel us as a birthday present for you, Draco-darling!" Procent answered.

The truth was that Draco had at several occasions begged his father to let Bob stay at Hogwarts because Draco was passionately in love with him. Draco even wrote a Valentine for Bob in the sixth year, but was too embarrassed to give it to him.

The reason behind Procent's presence in Hogwarts was unknown to Draco. Only a few men in the Ministry of Magic knew why she had to stay there, despite the average grades and the behaviour that would make any other student expelled.

Draco muttered something about Procent and Bob being kept at Hogwarts to fill the Magical Minorities-quota.

If there was something Procent's noble heart could not take- it was Malfoy making fun of her only friend's non-human extraction. She started to slowly move her hand towards her back pocket where she kept her wand, but Bob firmly stopped it. He had carried Procent to the medical wing after fights over him far too many times in his short life. If he was lucky she was in one piece. If he was really lucky she was unconscious.

Procent sighed. Bob was right, as always. Fighting would solve no problems. Sneaking into Draco's dorm and painting his face red and gold before an important Quidditch match would.

"I pardon you" Procent said coolly and turned around to continue her way. That left Draco shaking with unleashed insults. He tightened his fists and snapped:

"And it's spelled E-V-I-L, not E-V-E-L!"

That was the last straw. Procent released herself from Bob's brotherly embrace and threw herself on a very pale and unprepared Draco. Crabbe and Goyle didn't dare try to interrupt - they had learned that Procent could use her wand for more than magic the hard way. Bob stood still too- he promised Procent to never ever get mixed into her fights with Draco. What he did not know was that Procent asked him to promise that because she suspected that Draco would like it, since that was the only way to get Bob touch him.

Suddenly they heard the train whistle. The enemies stood up and started cleaning the dust of off their clothes. Draco's T-shirt had fallen off, so he picked it up from the ground looking suspiciously at Procent. She pretended like nothing happened, picked up her trunk and  followed Bob to the nearest entrance.

Inside the train they started looking for an empty compartment, but all of them were taken. At last Procent solved the problem by yelling to some first years that the compartment they occupied was reserved for her, the editor of Hogwarts' student newspaper. It was almost true- the last six years Procent had spent on trying (fruitlessly) to start a school paper.

Through the years she got a big collection of articles that she forced her friends and enemies to write. Among them were such pearls as "How to Wear Black Robes with Style" by Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, "Differences between American and British magic schools" by  Mary-Sue Sunbeam,  three reviews of "Hogwarts, a History" by Hermione Granger, "How to make your own dungbombs" by Gred and Forge Weasley,  an interview with Harry Potter by Ginny Weasley, an article about the Chudley Cannons by Ron Weasley and an article on how the Hogwarts students should behave more seriously because that would make everything so much better by Percy Weasley. The last article was thirteen feet of parchment long and suggested Chinese water torture for students who doodled on desks.

[Suggested soundtrack: "One way ticket" with Neil Sedaka]

Watching London pass by the window, Procent realized that this would be her last trip to Hogwarts. This time next year she would be an unemployed Hogwarts graduate, specialising on Defence Against The Dark Arts and Ancient Runes, struggling to make ands meet and freezing her toes off in a cold, tiny flat in Knockturn Alley. That almost made her cry. Maybe she should return to the muggle world. She thought about that alternative and realised that her Hogwarts diploma was even less needed there.

How, or how could the daughter of British chemist Fermia Hydronium and Finnish archaeologist Puolukka Väinämöinen end up in a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry?!

flashbackIt was just another summer morning in the London suburb where Procent lived. She was eating her breakfast that consisted of an egg and another egg and memorizing the periodic table. Her mother was frying more eggs. Suddenly a huge owl flew in through the window. The owl dropped a big brown letter on the kitchen table, stole eggs off the frying pan and flew out. Procent observed the bird and went back to the table. Her mother, however, was slightly less hard to surprise. She looked at Procent and yelled:

"What have you done?"

Because when strange things happened it was always Procent's fault. Like that time she made her mother's green Toyota fly over the traffic jam in central London. The policeman did not believe Fermia when she swore that it was her seven-year-old daughter who did it.

And that time Procent  made Darth Vader say "I am your mother" in the cinema because she thought it was not fair that there were too many men in that movie. And that time when Procent made her neighbour's rabbit turn into a hen because she wanted eggs! And that time Procent actually cleaned her room! Very strange things, indeed!

So it was completely natural of her mother to suspect that it was Procent's fault that a giant owl flew in through a closed window.

"Hey, it's not my fault" Procent answered sourly.

 "Miss Procent Hydronium-Väinämöinen" her mother read on the envelope. "It is to you and it's all your fault. Open it."

Procent started ripping the envelope open, but her mother stopped her:

"Not in the kitchen, Pro, go to the bathroom or the Ragnarök shelter!"

Procent quietly went out to the garden, unlocked the steel door and went down the cold, damp stairs to the concrete bunker. After closing all five nuclear bomb proof doors behind herself she carefully lit the flashlight and opened the letter with her trusty Leatherman. In the flickering light she started reading.
"Dear Miss Hydronium-Väinämöinen"

It said in ugly handwriting with blots all over the place

"We are happy to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

"Oh" thought Procent. She read some more. After the actual letter there was a note on a piece of parchment torn out of a book saying

"Since you are a muggle, you will get help with exchanging money into Wizard currency and buying your school supplies. You will meet your guide to the magical world at Victoria station, August 10^th, at noon. Your guide will wear a red T-shirt saying "I bought a T-shirt and all I got is this lousy T-shirt", his name is…"

The batteries in the flashlight went out. Since it was no use to try to unlock the door in darkness Procent patiently waited for her mother to come down and let her out. During supper Procent gave the letter to Fermia and asked if she could go to Hogwarts. The woman carefully read through everything.

"So it's a magical boarding school, huh? That means that if you go I won't have to fry eggs for you every morning? Well of course you can go, sweetheart!"

Procent smiled and hugged her mother. Her mother kissed her forehead and after the supper they read Kalevala together. /flashback

Was there a wand in Procent's pocket or was she just happy to see Bob?

Why does she spell evil "evel"?

Where did Bob's muscles come from?

Why does Procent have to stay at Hogwarts?

How did Draco's T-shirt fall off?

Who is Procent going to meet at Victoria Station?

You will find the answers in the next chapter of Procent Hydronium-Väinämöinen's and Bob the Pro-Gender-Equality Veela's exciting seventh year at Hogwarts! Or maybe you won't.