Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling can have the rest of her universe, but I WANT HARRY POTTER! Embarrassed cringe Sorry, already getting into Mary Sue Mode to write the chapter in the proper spirit. I don't begrudge Rowling her awesome books...very often. Okay, so I lie awake at night plotting ways to steal her copyright. What's it to you?
A/N: Hi, finally a second chapter. Updates will probably be a little slow since I'm working on about five stories at once and I write as ideas strike me. However, I don't want to disappoint my devoted fans insert sarcastic coughs here so I'll try to write as often as possible. Meanwhile, feel free to read my other stories and review! Gooood reviews, please. You are getting sleepy...your eyelids are getting heavy...when I count to three you will read this story, write a favorable review, and go read and review every single last one of my other ones. ONE...TWO...THREE.
Wakin' Up Is Hard to Do
The next morning, Peg woke up and didn't remember where she was for a second. Once she did, she hoped fervently that the disastrous events of yesterday evening had been only a dream brought on by excitement at the prospect of seeing her dear Harrykins once more.
They weren't. Instead of the red and gold she'd anticipated, Peg's blurry vision was largely comprised of green and silver hangings. Peg groaned softly and turned over. Maybe she could just go back to sleep and no one in her dorm would care...
Alas, no such luck. "Get up, Topper!" someone shrieked in her ear. Even though Peg had only known her for one day, there was no mistaking Pansy Parkinson's distinctive blend of contempt and sheer shrill idiocy. Blearily, she opened her eyes once more, wondering if they served coffee with breakfast at Hogwarts. She sure hoped so, because otherwise she didn't see how she'd survive being with Slytherins all day.
"They let you get up at noon in America or something? Well, let me tell you that's not the way it works around here," Pansy sneered, turning back to the mirror where she was applying her Special Impress Draco Malfoy Makeup. Reluctantly, Peg stumbled out of bed and felt a wave of fresh despair roll over her as she remembered one of the things that went with going to Hogwarts—the Official Hogwarts Dorky Robe Ensemble. How could she possibly attract Harry's attention in something that wasn't form-fitting?
Resigning herself to the horrors of wearing a school uniform, Peg grabbed a set of clothes from her trunk and set out in search of a shower, ignoring Pansy's screeches not to be late for breakfast. On her way through the common room, she bumped into a wall that turned out to be Goyle. "Sorry," she muttered, unceremoniously shoving her way past him and storming out of the dungeon in high dudgeon.
About five minutes later, Peg stopped storming when she realized she had absolutely no idea where she was going. After all, all dungeons do kind of look alike, especially at seven o'clock in the morning. "Oh, great," she groaned, stopping in the middle of the hallway and looking around in confusion.
Should she keep exploring and hope to get lucky or swallow her pride and ask directions from someone? The sensible answer to this question was obvious. Of course she couldn't ask directions from Slytherins! What would Harry think of her if he knew she had been driven by circumstances to seek aid from his sworn enemies?
Peg knew she would never stoop to doing such a thing, especially when she put it to herself in those terms. Having made up her mind, there was only one thing to do. Wishing she had her fuzzy bunny slippers to protect her delicate, feminine feet from the cold stone floor, Peg wearily trudged down the corridor, inwardly ruing the stray thought that had landed her in the house for evil people.
Now if she was in Gryffindor...well, first of all, she'd probably have passed Harry on her way to the showers...and maybe stopped for a while to talk...or flirt...Peg heaved a deep sigh of nostalgia for the things that could have been. But that evil Sorting Hat had probably ruined her chances with Harry forever. Pouting slightly with indignation and shame, Peg shuffled toward yet another nondescript stone archway.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Peg jumped roughly three miles as a tall, batlike shape swooped around the corner and confronted her sternly. Professor Severus Snape, the bane of all sane people's existence, stared down at her with cold, glittering eyes.
Peg quailed. "Oh, uh, good morning, Professor Snape," she stammered, trying to look as if she knew exactly where she was going and why. "I was just...um...well, actually I was—" Now she knew why Snape always scared Neville Longbottom. Those piercing black eyes riveted the trembling slip of a girl with terror. Alas, if only her brave Harry were there. He, Peg felt sure, could stop her malicious head of house from uttering the cutting words she felt sure would descend on her any second.
She wasn't wrong. "Good morning, Miss Topper," Snape sneered, his tone of voice indicating that he meant it about as much as Ron Weasley liked to read books. "And pray tell, what are you doing roaming the corridors so early in the morning...in your teddy bear pajamas?" Somehow, Peg didn't think he'd be exactly dripping with sympathy over her predicament, especially considering the pajamas. Darn, I should have just settled for not trying to do my hair perfectly for once.
"Well, I, I, I was just t-trying to f-find the sh-shower, sir," Peg quavered, using her best I'm-not-scared-of-you voice. Snape's brows lowered farther than she would have thought possible as he stood towering over her in all his greasy glory. Under the duress of the moment, Peg decided to forget the brave, independent heroine act and go back to the large, frightened baby blues shtick. She shrank against the wall, staring up at Snape and generally looking pitiful. Little did she know that Snape was so cold-hearted that even the Flirtatiously Frightened Mary Sue Look had absolutely no effect on him. In fact, for some reason it only seemed to annoy him more.
"You are supposed," Snape ground out, every word a tightly controlled effort, "to bathe in the evening!" Peg blinked.
"But sir," she said quite respectfully but bravely nonetheless, "in America we—" Her effort to explain was cut short by yet another rush of anger.
Snape's voice lowered dangerously and he bent very close, his hawklike features looming only a foot away from Peg's dainty, perfectly molded nose. "Miss Topper, I do not know what you may have been accustomed to in America, but I would suggest that you become unaccustomed to it very quickly. Do you catch my drift?"
There was nothing for Peg to do but nod submissively and wait to see what he would say next. Considering who she was dealing with, she wouldn't put it past him to take points off his own house just because he didn't like her. Not that the thought of Slytherin losing points disturbed her, but the last thing she needed was to have her classmates hate her any more than they already did.
To her great relief, Snape seemed to be finished with his tirade and turned away in disgust. Before he reached the archway, he called venomously over his shoulder, "Don't be late to breakfast!" He swept around the corner, leaving Peg weak-kneed and shaking.
After a few seconds, Peg pulled herself together like the strong, intelligent heroine that she was and decided it would probably be safer just to go to breakfast and save the shower for later. At this point she realized that she was still wearing her pink teddy bear pajamas and this was most likely not considered appropriate attire for breakfast at Hogwarts. She would have to change first, and that meant going back to the common room. Peg's stomach contracted in dread at the thought of facing Pansy Parkinson two times in one morning, but her common sense, such as it was, told her it had to be done. Bravely, Peg marched back the way she had come and—
Realized that she wasn't quite sure how to get back to the common room. This is pathetic, Peg told herself sternly. Not only do you not have the guts to stand up to Snape, you can't even find your way back to your own common room! Confused by the unchanging stone walls, she spun around, looking for a familiar landmark.
It's the Slytherins' fault, she told herself after a few more minutes of wandering aimlessly and, as far as she could tell, getting no closer to where she wanted to be. If they can't find someplace to live that isn't a dungeon, they shouldn't expect people to go around being on time for breakfast. They'll just have to get used to me getting lost every day.
A frightening thought occurred to Peg suddenly. If she couldn't find the common room, she couldn't change, which meant...no breakfast. O terrible spectre of doom! Peg felt a sudden urge to drop to her knees and cry out in despair, but she resisted it firmly. So she couldn't find the common room. She'd change in...a classroom!
Her eyes fastened on an open door only a few yards away. Cautiously, she edged toward it and peered around the doorway. Empty. Thanking her lucky stars for finally giving her a bit of help, Peg scurried into the room before somebody else could swoop by and yell at her for being an American.
Ten minutes later, Peg was dressed and ready to face the world in general and Harry in particular. Having arranged her robes so that they fitted as tightly as possible, she strode boldly out of the classroom and down the corridor.
At this point, she remembered the problem that had tormented her so much already this morning—she really had no earthly idea where she was going. Somehow Peg had assumed that being magical, Hogwarts would just sort of point new students in the right direction, rearrange corridors for their benefit, that sort of thing. No such luck. If the old castle was in fact doing anything at all in the way of shifting magically, it was definitely leading her in circles. Apparently, even the school building itself hated her.
Really, Peg thought, this was just not her morning. First Pansy Parkinson, then Professor Snape. What was next, Peeves?
It is remarkable how, in certain cases, otherwise useless idiomatic expressions can perfectly fit the circumstances. In this instance, the uncannily appropriate phrase was, "Speak of the devil and you see his horns." For indeed, no sooner had Peg formed this pessimistic thought in her pretty little head than who should come bouncing around the corner but the resident poltergeist himself.
"Ah-HAH!" Peeves cried, delighted at finding a victim so early in the morning. Gleefully, he peered at her with his little wicked eyes. Peg blanched in fear and repulsion as she drew her robes even more closely about herself, quite a feat considering their original fit. "And just what is our little new student doing wandering around the dungeons at this time of morning? It's BREAKFAST time!" he crowed in evil triumph. "Time for all good little boys and girls to be gobbling down their lumpy, disgusting porridge!"
Peg shuddered at the thought. At home in America she had always had perfectly toasted Pop-Tarts. But somehow she guessed that life at Hogwarts wouldn't be quite like anything she'd been used to. After all, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out with all the hints people had been dropping to that effect all morning.
She realized that she had to make a choice at this point. Should she tell Peeves she was lost and ask for directions at the risk of being ridiculed and pelted with sharp objects or should she soldier on bravely as Harry would in her place? What a dilemma!
"Peeves," she whimpered pitifully, "I'm lost. I tried and tried and tried and tried and..." Peg was going into broken record mode, so Peeves was ever so reluctantly obliged to snap her out of it. Making himself invisible, he floated overhead and sneaked up behind her...
"BOO!" Peeves yelled in sheer delight, swooping out of nowhere and frightening Peg out of such wits as she possessed, which really wasn't saying much. She screamed shrilly as only Mary Sues can, sending the poltergeist into gales of laughter. Chuckling evilly as always, he disappeared again to nab some chalk from the closest classroom.
Chalk was Peeves' favorite weapon. So simple, yet so versatile...it could be dropped in a heap on someone's head, used to scrawl rude messages on the back of their robes when they weren't looking, shoved up people's noses...why, there was no end to the possibilities! With this happy thought in mind, he scooped up about five pieces some careless teacher had forgotten to hide from him and floated out as quickly as he had come, still snickering to himself.
Now, what should he do with this particular batch of chalk? In this case, his victim probably didn't need much prompting to be scared silly, so the best course was probably dropping the stuff on her head without warning and laughing evilly while she tried to fish it out of her hair. Yes, that should work just fine...
Still invisible, Peeves drifted up behind Peg, who was now marching determinedly down the hallway and pretending she knew where she was going. With an earsplitting shriek of triumph, he deposited his load of chalk directly on top of her tender little blonde head, provoking another scream of surprised terror.
This, while giving him much personal satisfaction, was probably not the smartest thing he could have done. After all, if he had read his Official Handbook for Poltergeists, Boggarts, and Other Annoying Demon-Type Creatures, he would have known that otherwise weak and helpless teenage girls can only be pushed so far before the inner tigress takes control. At that point, anyone nearby had better take cover, preferably behind a six-foot-thick brick wall.
Most unfortunately for Peeves, no such thing was nearby to cower behind and he was forced to face the furious onslaught that followed his ill-fated prank. "You...you...!" shrieked Peg incoherently, stabbing a finger at him as she advanced on the poltergeist. Peeves backed away with a weak smile.
"I...HAVE...HAD...ENOUGH...OF...THIS!"she continued menacingly, striding toward him, perfectly manicured hands stretching out as if ready and willing to tear him limb from limb. Her blue eyes flashed with a rage that not even the bravest wizard could withstand, much less a miserable coward like Peeves.
Needless to say, he ran, Peg pursuing him with speed born of anger. Also needless to say, after fifty yards or so he realized what an idiot he was and disappeared abruptly with a pop. Peg stopped in disappointment and some confusion. She was somewhat deflated at being deprived of her fresh meat, having forgotten for the moment that Peeves didn't have flesh per se.
Then she suddenly uttered a little shriek, remembering that breakfast was probably in full swing by now. What should she do? Wait...what was that? Why, it looked like the flight of steps that led up to the entrance to the Great Hall! Breaking into a grin and feeling much better for the scaring of Peeves, Peg ran toward the stairs and took them two at a time.
A/N: I think I laid on the helpless blonde stuff a few layers too thick, but shrug that's the price of parody. If you want exaggeration, you've come to the right story! Hopefully updates will be quicker in the future, but I'm working on six or seven posted stories and about the same number of unposted ones, which should soon become posted. Perhaps you can find it in your heart to forgive me for the delays if you have any interest whatsoever in Roger Zelazny, J.R.R. Tolkien, K.A. Applegate, or Isaac Asimov. And I know you folks are interested in Harry Potter, so pleeeeeeaaaaase feel very free to review my other stories as much as you want! Also, I need help for a Scout project I'm doing. It involves collecting common abbreviations or terms used on that new users might not know or might be too lazy to figure out, so include some in your extremely long, favorable reviews on all my stories! Coming Soon: Breakfast With Slytherins.
