Disclaimer: see chapters one and two -last time a note will be posted about disclaimers, unless something new crops up.
Author: Lani
E-Mail: lanirhys@aol.com
Authors Notes: *dances* a couple more reviews! Right, Sirius and Dumbledore in this, and plenty of Harry in Chapter five (when it gets written *muah ha ha*) so don't give up yet.
Review Responses:
Xia Sarrasri: Hmmm, yeah Ron's ear do seem to be kinda stuck in The Pink Position... poor bloke gets embarrassed a lot, though, doesn't he?
Thanks for pointing out there's errors in 1 & 2, probably 3 as well, lol, I've gone back and fixed most of them... but if you (or anyone actually) spot more, tell me please.
LadyJen1: **giggles** you like? S.H.I.T. was just me being weird... so i'm glad you like it! Here's the next chapter!
kirsty: if a few years ago you told me i would be writing 'absolutely fantastic' hp fics what would i say? well i'd say you were off ya rocker mate! as for what i'd say now... i'd say; you've been reading other peoples stories and thinking they're mine again! silly!
Now! On with the story!
Please R/R! :)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Four
Looking back on how it was
In years gone by
And the good times that I had
Makes today seem rather sad
So much has changed
Yesterday Once More, The Carpenters
Sirius gazed at the house he hadn't seen for over fifteen years, and realised how much he'd missed it -this was his home, the one he'd lived in before -(his brain automatically swapped tracks) -the one he wanted Harry to live in, instead of with those Muggles that hated him.
"It looks a bit, run down, doesn't it?" he commented dryly.
"That's an understatement."
Indeed it was, the roof had four holes in it, only half a chimney and no window panes without a crack or hole, the door was rotten, like the window edgings, and the grass was so tall and wild that he didn't even want to think about what was living in the grass, let alone inside the house.
"Age before beauty, Yesy; so you better go first."
Yesy frowned, pulled a face, and pushed Sirius forwards, "Your house, your mess: you go first."
Stepping with exaggerated purpose, he trod between the weeds that had ravaged what; fifteen years previously, had been a path to the front door.
"Aww, what's the matter? Big, bad, auror 'fraid of my house?"
"Yes I'm absolutely terrified, now will you get on and open the door? I'd like to have something done by the time Dumbledore gets here." Extracting herself from a bush of thorns, she continued, "What's got you so happy anyway? Where's the brooding, seriousness gone?"
He placed a hand on the doorknob, waited a moment, and pushed it open with a hard thrust before replying, "I made a promise to Harry a couple of years ago that he could come and live with me when I was cleared, but since that didn't happen, I couldn't. Now I'm getting my place back anyway, so he can still come -what's there not to be happy about? He won't have to live with those Dursleys anymore."
"Sirius, you know they give him protection, even if they don't realise it, protection that can't be equalled just by the wards here."
"I know," he said, "That's why we're having more wards, more spells, more enchantments -they may not be exactly for Harry's safety, but they may as well be, think about it Yesy -Muggles won't remember seeing this place, every time they come by they'll have to be somewhere else, it's Unplottable, and Dumbledore said that if we do make this the headquarters," he whispered the last word even as he closed the door behind her, "there will be a Secret Keeper, so it won't matter about the others, because nobody will be able to find it anyway."
"You've really thought about this, haven't you?"
He grinned in response, picking his way over the dust-matted floorboards and avoiding the curtains. Truth was, even if this wasn't going to be the headquarters, which it probably would anyway, he'd still have as many wards and spells placed on the house as possible: there was no way that Deatheater's would invade his home again.
"So where do you want to start?"
"How about we work from here out? Starting with those." She gestured to the pair of curtains hanging over the hallway window: they used to be red, but were now closer to brown and had a lot more holes. "What do you think is in them? I doubt it'll just be dust and moths."
"Doxies?"
"Who knows? On three. One," she raised her own wand, "Two," Sirius raised the wand he'd borrowed from Remus for the day, "Three."
There were, in fact, a lot of Doxies living in the curtains, and they were not happy about being moved. Within seconds of shooting sparks at the curtains, dozens of blue, very annoyed, flying things were coming at the pair.
One hour, and many, many, Doxies later, they stopped coming, and the curtains were now free, but still very dirty.
"Where next?" he asked, wiping his forehead and dropping the final intruder into a bucket they'd magicked up, "The living room? There's bound to be some fun things under the sofa."
"Like the bogey man?" she laughed, following behind him with the bucket.
Two Boggarts, three strange things, thirty Doxies and one living room later, Dumbledore arrived with Moody, the former of whom looked amused at the dishevelled appearance of the two full-grown wizards.
"I trust you have been having fun?"
"Didn't you leave any pest control, Black?" Moody growled, his magical eye swivelling in every direction.
Sirius levelled the older man with a glare, "I wasn't planning on not coming back; it's not like I had anything left anyway." he added to himself, so low nobody else heard.
During the uncomfortable silence that followed, Dumbledore ate a Mint Humbug and whistled Jingle Bells.
"It will need a bit of a clean out, but I believe you were right, Sirius." The Hogwarts headmaster turned to Moody, "You don't see anything suspicious?"
The eye twisted and turned faster than before in its socket, "No."
"Well," he said, "Let's begin."
***
Morning stretched lazily over Hogwarts the next day, the grass glistened and the sky was crystal blue, promising a hot day inside the castle as well as out.
Inside the Gryffindor Tower, Orion woke up feeling refreshed and confused, it took a few moments for the memory of yesterday to catch up and filter through, but when it did, she grinned from ear to ear. After brushing and tying back her air and dressing as fast as she could, as well as pulling on her new school robes, she was down by the portrait hole within ten minutes.
"Do you remember the way to the Great Hall?" The Fat Lady asked.
Orion nodded, reciting the turns Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington had shown her twice yesterday,
"Well go to breakfast then -you've got your first lesson in an hour!"
Down at the Great Hall, there were only a few teachers eating, the rest, she presumed, were still in bed, though Snape should probably have been there since he had his first lesson in an hour too.
Once again, the table was covered in bowls and plates of food: porridge, bacon, tomatoes, sausages, fried bread, toast, jam, marmalade, cornflakes (which weren't stale), and more goblets of pumpkin juice. Helping herself to a bowl of milk and cornflakes she sat in silence, until McGonagall came in five minutes later and sat opposite.
"Remember to take you potions ingredients down to the dungeons; here are a set of directions from Gryffindor."
Orion took the piece of parchment, reading through the instructions on how to not get lost.
"Thanks, Professor."
Wherever Snape had been at breakfast, it didn't stop him from being present and correct in his lair of dank and dinginess when she arrived.
It took her all of three minutes to realise what she hadn't at dinner the night before -Snape was in a permanent foul mood, as in, all of the time.
"Kindly pay attention, we have a lot of work to do in a very limited amount of time. Using the ingredients on the board," he waved his wand, and a list of ingredients appeared on the blackboard, followed by a set of instructions, "I want you to make this potion, no dawdling, no stalling, and no dilly-dallying about: get on with it."
She also learnt that he was a man who got straight to the point.
It wasn't too bad; a lot of it was making sure to read the instructions absolutely right, and making sure you did exactly what they said, down to the second -it was like causing a reaction in chemistry.
"Hmm," he said, nearly an hour later, "What does smooth mean to you? Because this," hr stirred it around distastefully, "is not smooth, it is more like eight-month-old milk."
Orion mentally pulled faces at the greasy haired slime ball. It was not like eight-month-old milk, it had three bubbles on the surface.
"Homework is a one foot essay on this potions uses, advantages and disadvantages. Clear up and go: this lesson is over."
Not wasting any time on leaving, Orion was out of the dungeon and half way back to the Common Room before anyone could say the alphabet backwards.
"Note to self," she muttered, putting down her potions things and picking up the books she would need next, "Sabotage Snape's desk with something that smells worse than his cupboards."
The rest of the day didn't go too badly, though in Transfiguration it took her two tries to change the match into a needle, and by the end of Charms she was sick and tired of swishing and flicking and what not, but overall, by the time lunch came around, she was starving, and ate three slices of pepperoni pizza, two goblets full of pumpkin juice, and a sausage roll.
History of Magic was by far the most unusual of subject, being that a ghost called Professor Binns taught it. It was also the most boring of the four lessons: Binns only had one tone of voice and he just kept going and going and going… until Orion felt her eyelids droop. And that was only five minutes into the lesson.
"…Class dismissed."
Orion jerked awake with a start -the lesson was finished, and her notes consisted of 'History of Magic. Goblin Wars.' When Binns glided back through the wall, she tidied up her things slowly, praying that he wasn't the pop quiz giving type, or she was done for, because she had nobody to copy notes from.
*
Orion collapsed into a burgundy, overstuffed armchair, throwing her hair over the back. Dinner with the teachers had been much like it had been the night before, except Dumbledore wasn't there, and this time she knew four of the teachers and the fact that one of them was dead. Did all wizards and witches leave ghosts? Were her parents floating around somewhere?
Snape was still as unpleasant as before, possibly more so, although it could be possible that the frown was permanently attached to his face from when the wind changed when he was a toddler, since it never seemed to lift or in any way change.
"So, I'm a witch now." she said to herself, "Well, a witch-in-training any way."
There was one problem with being the only student in the school that she realised at dinner, when McGonagall reminded her about the homework.
She couldn't fob the teachers off with excuses and hope they forgot during the course of the lesson with the other students, because she was the class. She couldn't say her dog ate it either, because they knew she didn't have a dog. This in mind, she set to work on the Potions essay, however dreary the task seemed.
The next day went just as well as the first, as did the rest of the week, apart from Herbology, in which she was doing badly. Orion just couldn't get her head around all the different plant names, their habitats and their habits. The teacher, Professor Sprout (who, in her opinion, looked rather green and plant-like herself) kept saying that it'd all make sense soon, but after some time, with the information still going in one ear and out the other, both doubted it.
A few weeks into the holidays, she was presented with the problem of choosing her options, two or three were recommended, and of course the professors were glad to pass on their opinions on each, but, eventually, Orion chose them using the time honoured method of making a list and randomly jabbing her finger onto the page -her finger landed on Care of Magical Creatures, then Study of Ancient Runes, then Divination. Hagrid, the gameskeeper and teacher of Care of Magical Creatures, wasn't there, so an old witch taught it instead, but Divination was fun, despite the stuffy room, because she got to predict her death and give herself various maladies and injuries for homework, which seemed to impress Professor Trewlany (whom Orion nicknamed Professor Wispa-Inja for that reason and that she barely spoke above the volume of a whisper). In Ancient Runes, after a somewhat rocky start, she found the entertaining side of the subject and managed to make several portraits and ghosts laugh by writing her own, very short, mini-scriptures, much to the Professors non-amusement, after he read one about himself and the shiny billiard ball that was his head.
Two days before term was due to start, had Dumbledore decided that she deserved a day off, having not really had a summer holiday, and done very well in her studies with only a few more lessons to go, which she would have to do after normal, Fifth Year lessons were finished for the day.
As such, she was meandering round the castle, testing for more secret passages to add to her collection -she'd found a shortcut to the North tower, where Divination was held, and a few more around the castle that came in handy on days that she was running late. Right now, she was on a search for the kitchens -the portrait on the second floor hinted that it was down this corridor with the bowl of fruits, so here she was, staring at the bowl of fruit occasionally poking it.
Five minutes of poking later, and she got it right and the kitchen was revealed…. full of little things. Little things called House-Elves; they had pointed ears and were wearing neatly pressed pillowcases with an 'H' printed on the backs.
"Hi."
They rushed up to her in hoards, asking if there was anything she needed, anything she wanted several minutes later, laden with chocolate éclairs and bananas, she backed towards the exit.
"No, I've got plenty, thanks… no you're all right, I've really got to go."
And she was out, munching on the chocolate éclairs and tucking the bananas into her backpack. There was one thing that she was keen to do, but had yet to have a chance, and that was to booby trap anything she could, playing pranks was something she got letters sent home for that she actually deserved: nothing dangerous, but a few big things that the headmistress hadn't found amusing, like the water balloons and buckets of flower, and the kippers hidden underneath her desk (she thought it was under there for two weeks, but they'd been there for over three).
There was one small problem with placing tricks around the school, and that was a certain four legged fiend going by the name of Mrs. Norris. Mrs. Norris was Filch's (the schools caretaker) henchcat and was probably psychic, in Orion's opinion, because wherever something happened, like when Peeves (the very annoying, very devious, and extra mischievous poltergeist that inhabited and terrorised the school) pushed over a suit of armour a corridor down from where Mrs. Norris was, barely minutes later Filch appeared on the scene and started ranting and raving at Peeves. It didn't affect him in the slightest, but it was still amazing how fast Filch got there.
So, the key was to place tricks and things in cat free zones, and out of cat eye-sight or smell range.
By lunch, several objects were placed about the school, but the majority were hidden in the Gryffindor Common Room, for example the first person to sit in the large, soft, armchair closest to the fire would find an uncomfortable noise erupting from below them.
Prankster obligation filled, Orion returned to wandering aimlessly around the school, occasionally pushing on tapestries and walls, in-case they weren't walls at all, only pretending to be and were actually doors, and every know and again, when the mood struck, she would tap the odd statue, but to no avail. She did, however, find herself the Trophy Room, and it made her jaw drop.
The entire rectangular shaped room was lined with shelves and cabinets to the extent that barely a wall was visible and only one window survived; peeking out above the top of a mahogany backed cabinet like the lone survivor of a wreck.
Gold and silver and bronze glinted everywhere, reflecting the sun that sneaked through the window and the flames from the torches: there were shields, trophies, plate sized medals and medallions… all engraved with little, and almost miniscule writing in some cases, stating the names and years of every winner. There was the Quidditch Cup, which Gryffindor had won for the last three years, but it hadn't been held last year; and the House Cup that Gryffindor was doing very well with, for the last four years. Then there was the Special Services to the School, but the last time it'd been awarded was two years ago, to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, both in Gryffindor (were there even other houses?).
One award that caught her eye was Most Detentions Received, that'd only been handed out once, over twenty years ago, to The Marauders & Co. with a total of one thousand, seven hundred and eighty nine.
"Wow," she whispered, eyeing it appreciatively. That was a lot of detentions! "Go team Marauder!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Post A/N: This isn't a Mary Sue, y'see what Dumbledore said in ther earlier chapters about smaller classes equalling quicker learning is actually true! Honest! I had to stay behind afterschool for an extra Physics lesson to keep my friend company 'cause she'd missed the first 2 topics, and also because i suck at Physics, and we covered over 6 weeks of work in a little over 2 hours.
Now, please tell me what you think! Reckon I should stay away from fanfiction forever? Tell me! Think i should never write again? Say it in a review! Think this idea is completely crap? Review it! *muah ha ha ha haaa* (
Author: Lani
E-Mail: lanirhys@aol.com
Authors Notes: *dances* a couple more reviews! Right, Sirius and Dumbledore in this, and plenty of Harry in Chapter five (when it gets written *muah ha ha*) so don't give up yet.
Review Responses:
Xia Sarrasri: Hmmm, yeah Ron's ear do seem to be kinda stuck in The Pink Position... poor bloke gets embarrassed a lot, though, doesn't he?
Thanks for pointing out there's errors in 1 & 2, probably 3 as well, lol, I've gone back and fixed most of them... but if you (or anyone actually) spot more, tell me please.
LadyJen1: **giggles** you like? S.H.I.T. was just me being weird... so i'm glad you like it! Here's the next chapter!
kirsty: if a few years ago you told me i would be writing 'absolutely fantastic' hp fics what would i say? well i'd say you were off ya rocker mate! as for what i'd say now... i'd say; you've been reading other peoples stories and thinking they're mine again! silly!
Now! On with the story!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Four
Looking back on how it was
In years gone by
And the good times that I had
Makes today seem rather sad
So much has changed
Yesterday Once More, The Carpenters
Sirius gazed at the house he hadn't seen for over fifteen years, and realised how much he'd missed it -this was his home, the one he'd lived in before -(his brain automatically swapped tracks) -the one he wanted Harry to live in, instead of with those Muggles that hated him.
"It looks a bit, run down, doesn't it?" he commented dryly.
"That's an understatement."
Indeed it was, the roof had four holes in it, only half a chimney and no window panes without a crack or hole, the door was rotten, like the window edgings, and the grass was so tall and wild that he didn't even want to think about what was living in the grass, let alone inside the house.
"Age before beauty, Yesy; so you better go first."
Yesy frowned, pulled a face, and pushed Sirius forwards, "Your house, your mess: you go first."
Stepping with exaggerated purpose, he trod between the weeds that had ravaged what; fifteen years previously, had been a path to the front door.
"Aww, what's the matter? Big, bad, auror 'fraid of my house?"
"Yes I'm absolutely terrified, now will you get on and open the door? I'd like to have something done by the time Dumbledore gets here." Extracting herself from a bush of thorns, she continued, "What's got you so happy anyway? Where's the brooding, seriousness gone?"
He placed a hand on the doorknob, waited a moment, and pushed it open with a hard thrust before replying, "I made a promise to Harry a couple of years ago that he could come and live with me when I was cleared, but since that didn't happen, I couldn't. Now I'm getting my place back anyway, so he can still come -what's there not to be happy about? He won't have to live with those Dursleys anymore."
"Sirius, you know they give him protection, even if they don't realise it, protection that can't be equalled just by the wards here."
"I know," he said, "That's why we're having more wards, more spells, more enchantments -they may not be exactly for Harry's safety, but they may as well be, think about it Yesy -Muggles won't remember seeing this place, every time they come by they'll have to be somewhere else, it's Unplottable, and Dumbledore said that if we do make this the headquarters," he whispered the last word even as he closed the door behind her, "there will be a Secret Keeper, so it won't matter about the others, because nobody will be able to find it anyway."
"You've really thought about this, haven't you?"
He grinned in response, picking his way over the dust-matted floorboards and avoiding the curtains. Truth was, even if this wasn't going to be the headquarters, which it probably would anyway, he'd still have as many wards and spells placed on the house as possible: there was no way that Deatheater's would invade his home again.
"So where do you want to start?"
"How about we work from here out? Starting with those." She gestured to the pair of curtains hanging over the hallway window: they used to be red, but were now closer to brown and had a lot more holes. "What do you think is in them? I doubt it'll just be dust and moths."
"Doxies?"
"Who knows? On three. One," she raised her own wand, "Two," Sirius raised the wand he'd borrowed from Remus for the day, "Three."
There were, in fact, a lot of Doxies living in the curtains, and they were not happy about being moved. Within seconds of shooting sparks at the curtains, dozens of blue, very annoyed, flying things were coming at the pair.
One hour, and many, many, Doxies later, they stopped coming, and the curtains were now free, but still very dirty.
"Where next?" he asked, wiping his forehead and dropping the final intruder into a bucket they'd magicked up, "The living room? There's bound to be some fun things under the sofa."
"Like the bogey man?" she laughed, following behind him with the bucket.
Two Boggarts, three strange things, thirty Doxies and one living room later, Dumbledore arrived with Moody, the former of whom looked amused at the dishevelled appearance of the two full-grown wizards.
"I trust you have been having fun?"
"Didn't you leave any pest control, Black?" Moody growled, his magical eye swivelling in every direction.
Sirius levelled the older man with a glare, "I wasn't planning on not coming back; it's not like I had anything left anyway." he added to himself, so low nobody else heard.
During the uncomfortable silence that followed, Dumbledore ate a Mint Humbug and whistled Jingle Bells.
"It will need a bit of a clean out, but I believe you were right, Sirius." The Hogwarts headmaster turned to Moody, "You don't see anything suspicious?"
The eye twisted and turned faster than before in its socket, "No."
"Well," he said, "Let's begin."
***
Morning stretched lazily over Hogwarts the next day, the grass glistened and the sky was crystal blue, promising a hot day inside the castle as well as out.
Inside the Gryffindor Tower, Orion woke up feeling refreshed and confused, it took a few moments for the memory of yesterday to catch up and filter through, but when it did, she grinned from ear to ear. After brushing and tying back her air and dressing as fast as she could, as well as pulling on her new school robes, she was down by the portrait hole within ten minutes.
"Do you remember the way to the Great Hall?" The Fat Lady asked.
Orion nodded, reciting the turns Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington had shown her twice yesterday,
"Well go to breakfast then -you've got your first lesson in an hour!"
Down at the Great Hall, there were only a few teachers eating, the rest, she presumed, were still in bed, though Snape should probably have been there since he had his first lesson in an hour too.
Once again, the table was covered in bowls and plates of food: porridge, bacon, tomatoes, sausages, fried bread, toast, jam, marmalade, cornflakes (which weren't stale), and more goblets of pumpkin juice. Helping herself to a bowl of milk and cornflakes she sat in silence, until McGonagall came in five minutes later and sat opposite.
"Remember to take you potions ingredients down to the dungeons; here are a set of directions from Gryffindor."
Orion took the piece of parchment, reading through the instructions on how to not get lost.
"Thanks, Professor."
Wherever Snape had been at breakfast, it didn't stop him from being present and correct in his lair of dank and dinginess when she arrived.
It took her all of three minutes to realise what she hadn't at dinner the night before -Snape was in a permanent foul mood, as in, all of the time.
"Kindly pay attention, we have a lot of work to do in a very limited amount of time. Using the ingredients on the board," he waved his wand, and a list of ingredients appeared on the blackboard, followed by a set of instructions, "I want you to make this potion, no dawdling, no stalling, and no dilly-dallying about: get on with it."
She also learnt that he was a man who got straight to the point.
It wasn't too bad; a lot of it was making sure to read the instructions absolutely right, and making sure you did exactly what they said, down to the second -it was like causing a reaction in chemistry.
"Hmm," he said, nearly an hour later, "What does smooth mean to you? Because this," hr stirred it around distastefully, "is not smooth, it is more like eight-month-old milk."
Orion mentally pulled faces at the greasy haired slime ball. It was not like eight-month-old milk, it had three bubbles on the surface.
"Homework is a one foot essay on this potions uses, advantages and disadvantages. Clear up and go: this lesson is over."
Not wasting any time on leaving, Orion was out of the dungeon and half way back to the Common Room before anyone could say the alphabet backwards.
"Note to self," she muttered, putting down her potions things and picking up the books she would need next, "Sabotage Snape's desk with something that smells worse than his cupboards."
The rest of the day didn't go too badly, though in Transfiguration it took her two tries to change the match into a needle, and by the end of Charms she was sick and tired of swishing and flicking and what not, but overall, by the time lunch came around, she was starving, and ate three slices of pepperoni pizza, two goblets full of pumpkin juice, and a sausage roll.
History of Magic was by far the most unusual of subject, being that a ghost called Professor Binns taught it. It was also the most boring of the four lessons: Binns only had one tone of voice and he just kept going and going and going… until Orion felt her eyelids droop. And that was only five minutes into the lesson.
"…Class dismissed."
Orion jerked awake with a start -the lesson was finished, and her notes consisted of 'History of Magic. Goblin Wars.' When Binns glided back through the wall, she tidied up her things slowly, praying that he wasn't the pop quiz giving type, or she was done for, because she had nobody to copy notes from.
*
Orion collapsed into a burgundy, overstuffed armchair, throwing her hair over the back. Dinner with the teachers had been much like it had been the night before, except Dumbledore wasn't there, and this time she knew four of the teachers and the fact that one of them was dead. Did all wizards and witches leave ghosts? Were her parents floating around somewhere?
Snape was still as unpleasant as before, possibly more so, although it could be possible that the frown was permanently attached to his face from when the wind changed when he was a toddler, since it never seemed to lift or in any way change.
"So, I'm a witch now." she said to herself, "Well, a witch-in-training any way."
There was one problem with being the only student in the school that she realised at dinner, when McGonagall reminded her about the homework.
She couldn't fob the teachers off with excuses and hope they forgot during the course of the lesson with the other students, because she was the class. She couldn't say her dog ate it either, because they knew she didn't have a dog. This in mind, she set to work on the Potions essay, however dreary the task seemed.
The next day went just as well as the first, as did the rest of the week, apart from Herbology, in which she was doing badly. Orion just couldn't get her head around all the different plant names, their habitats and their habits. The teacher, Professor Sprout (who, in her opinion, looked rather green and plant-like herself) kept saying that it'd all make sense soon, but after some time, with the information still going in one ear and out the other, both doubted it.
A few weeks into the holidays, she was presented with the problem of choosing her options, two or three were recommended, and of course the professors were glad to pass on their opinions on each, but, eventually, Orion chose them using the time honoured method of making a list and randomly jabbing her finger onto the page -her finger landed on Care of Magical Creatures, then Study of Ancient Runes, then Divination. Hagrid, the gameskeeper and teacher of Care of Magical Creatures, wasn't there, so an old witch taught it instead, but Divination was fun, despite the stuffy room, because she got to predict her death and give herself various maladies and injuries for homework, which seemed to impress Professor Trewlany (whom Orion nicknamed Professor Wispa-Inja for that reason and that she barely spoke above the volume of a whisper). In Ancient Runes, after a somewhat rocky start, she found the entertaining side of the subject and managed to make several portraits and ghosts laugh by writing her own, very short, mini-scriptures, much to the Professors non-amusement, after he read one about himself and the shiny billiard ball that was his head.
Two days before term was due to start, had Dumbledore decided that she deserved a day off, having not really had a summer holiday, and done very well in her studies with only a few more lessons to go, which she would have to do after normal, Fifth Year lessons were finished for the day.
As such, she was meandering round the castle, testing for more secret passages to add to her collection -she'd found a shortcut to the North tower, where Divination was held, and a few more around the castle that came in handy on days that she was running late. Right now, she was on a search for the kitchens -the portrait on the second floor hinted that it was down this corridor with the bowl of fruits, so here she was, staring at the bowl of fruit occasionally poking it.
Five minutes of poking later, and she got it right and the kitchen was revealed…. full of little things. Little things called House-Elves; they had pointed ears and were wearing neatly pressed pillowcases with an 'H' printed on the backs.
"Hi."
They rushed up to her in hoards, asking if there was anything she needed, anything she wanted several minutes later, laden with chocolate éclairs and bananas, she backed towards the exit.
"No, I've got plenty, thanks… no you're all right, I've really got to go."
And she was out, munching on the chocolate éclairs and tucking the bananas into her backpack. There was one thing that she was keen to do, but had yet to have a chance, and that was to booby trap anything she could, playing pranks was something she got letters sent home for that she actually deserved: nothing dangerous, but a few big things that the headmistress hadn't found amusing, like the water balloons and buckets of flower, and the kippers hidden underneath her desk (she thought it was under there for two weeks, but they'd been there for over three).
There was one small problem with placing tricks around the school, and that was a certain four legged fiend going by the name of Mrs. Norris. Mrs. Norris was Filch's (the schools caretaker) henchcat and was probably psychic, in Orion's opinion, because wherever something happened, like when Peeves (the very annoying, very devious, and extra mischievous poltergeist that inhabited and terrorised the school) pushed over a suit of armour a corridor down from where Mrs. Norris was, barely minutes later Filch appeared on the scene and started ranting and raving at Peeves. It didn't affect him in the slightest, but it was still amazing how fast Filch got there.
So, the key was to place tricks and things in cat free zones, and out of cat eye-sight or smell range.
By lunch, several objects were placed about the school, but the majority were hidden in the Gryffindor Common Room, for example the first person to sit in the large, soft, armchair closest to the fire would find an uncomfortable noise erupting from below them.
Prankster obligation filled, Orion returned to wandering aimlessly around the school, occasionally pushing on tapestries and walls, in-case they weren't walls at all, only pretending to be and were actually doors, and every know and again, when the mood struck, she would tap the odd statue, but to no avail. She did, however, find herself the Trophy Room, and it made her jaw drop.
The entire rectangular shaped room was lined with shelves and cabinets to the extent that barely a wall was visible and only one window survived; peeking out above the top of a mahogany backed cabinet like the lone survivor of a wreck.
Gold and silver and bronze glinted everywhere, reflecting the sun that sneaked through the window and the flames from the torches: there were shields, trophies, plate sized medals and medallions… all engraved with little, and almost miniscule writing in some cases, stating the names and years of every winner. There was the Quidditch Cup, which Gryffindor had won for the last three years, but it hadn't been held last year; and the House Cup that Gryffindor was doing very well with, for the last four years. Then there was the Special Services to the School, but the last time it'd been awarded was two years ago, to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, both in Gryffindor (were there even other houses?).
One award that caught her eye was Most Detentions Received, that'd only been handed out once, over twenty years ago, to The Marauders & Co. with a total of one thousand, seven hundred and eighty nine.
"Wow," she whispered, eyeing it appreciatively. That was a lot of detentions! "Go team Marauder!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Post A/N: This isn't a Mary Sue, y'see what Dumbledore said in ther earlier chapters about smaller classes equalling quicker learning is actually true! Honest! I had to stay behind afterschool for an extra Physics lesson to keep my friend company 'cause she'd missed the first 2 topics, and also because i suck at Physics, and we covered over 6 weeks of work in a little over 2 hours.
Now, please tell me what you think! Reckon I should stay away from fanfiction forever? Tell me! Think i should never write again? Say it in a review! Think this idea is completely crap? Review it! *muah ha ha ha haaa* (