Disclaimer: Do I really have to write this? I don't own it, okay? I don't think I have enough money to buy the rights to the books....
Our first class was Potions, with the Hufflepuffs. Professor Snape was a nightmare. He was especially mean to Rachel, whose parents are Muggles. What is it that purebloods have against Muggles, or Muggle-borns? It's not like they could help it that they were born to Muggle parents.
"It's not fair!" Rachel burst out. "And don't you say that life's not fair, I've heard that from my parents ad nauseum."
"Same here. I'm just crazy, so I came up with my own theory: life is always fair, people are just too stupid to realize it."
She asked me to explain, so I did. "Say you grow up having to work hard. Well, you might think that unfair, but later in life you'll already know how to work hard, so you'll have an advantage. Again, say you're faced with a life-or-death decision. Well, next time you'll already have experience."
"But what if you die?" Rachel asked. "How is that fair?"
I shrugged. "Hey, I only said life was fair. I never said anything about death."
"What if your friend dies?" she asked.
"You learn to deal with the loss, and grow from it," I replied. "It might not be pleasant, but it certainly is fair."
The next day, we had Herbology, with the Slytherins. We spent the period weeding, which was a rather grueling task. I began to acquire several aches and pains in my arms and back. After a while, I stood up to stretch.
Everything went black.
I was fighting in a battle. My head and arms ached. Someone was screaming—
I sat up with a start. I was the one screaming. Zach was kneeling next to me, ashen-faced. Once I had subsided to quiet sobs, he asked, "You OK?"
"I—I think so. Ow! My head hurts. Look at my arms—they're all scratched up." And they were. I was bleeding a bit from several long scratches, though most of them were simply an angry red, and itched.
"The plants must have scratched you when you fell. Can you stand?" Zach helped me onto my feet. "I'll take you to the Hospital Wing."
"Tsk, tsk," admonished Madame Pompfrey. "You stood up too fast. You need some recovery time, yes? Perhaps you should take tomorrow off."
Tomorrow was the first Flying Lesson. I'd been looking forward to it for a week. "No! I'm okay, honestly. I'm just in a bit of shock. This has never happened before."
Madam Pompfrey looked doubtful, but she said, "Well, alright. Off you go then."
As we left, Zach whispered, "Malfoy's up to something. I need you to come to the Slytherin common room tonight to help me check it out. The password is indicium atrocis."
That afternoon was Astrology, with the Gryffindors. It was a nightmare. Not only was Jim still angry with Zach, some of his ire had spilled onto me. There was no explanation for it, except the fact that all boys seem to have a streak of irrationality about a mile wide. We yelled across the tower at each other, while everyone else stared at us. I was having fun, although distinctly annoyed that my friend was being so dense. He was furious. The teacher was not amused.
"He's my friend! I've known him since I was little!"
"He's in Slytherin!"
"What's wrong with that? He's ambitious! He wants to be great!"
"So do I, but I didn't need to be put in Slytherin to achieve my goals!"
On a hunch, I retorted, "You could be great, you know. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness. No? Well, then, better be GRYFFINDOR!"
"How—?"
"But Zach isn't the type for Gryffindor. He could have been put in Ravenclaw, but he's got a weird sense of humor. He probably thought it would be funny if the four of us were in four different houses."
"He's insane! Why are you siding with him?"
"I at least have some common sense!"
"And I don't?!"
"Boys!"
Yet another piece of the original chapter one. This one has only been slightly revised, so any suggestions for further revisions will be welcome, once I have regained my common sense.
Although I have now decided that boys are no less stupid than girls, my opinion of them has not changed. Rather, now I have taken to heart Wizards' First Rule: People are stupid. Not everyone, of course, just most people. But if you're reading this story, you're probably not stupid—simply because you must like to read.