Ok, so I was walking down the street last Monday, and on the way I saw this little fuzzy pink bunny staring at me with its big shiny pink eyes and it was just so cute I had to pick it up and pet it and name it Snuffysniffles. And now, I just can't get rid of it. It won't leave me. It dug in its little fuzzy pink claws and it won't let go. It speaks to me. It tells me I must write this story or it will eat me with its big shiny pink teeth. It calls to me. Obey the Snuffysniffles. I must...
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That being said, this is NOT my idea, it's the idea of an insane bunny-rabbit named Snuffysniffles, so feel free to be as mean with it as you like! Go ahead. Throw it to the roaring octopuses. Use it for bowling practice on weekends. Beat it up with little fuzzy pink sticks. You know you want to.
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Alfie Rockbank snored softly in her corner of the train compartment, her head resting peacefully against the grease-smudged window. She was having a beautiful dream, a really beautiful dream, a dream in which she was riding high above the world on the back of a dragon whose name was Mr. Murphy, had purple spots on his back, one of those really beautiful Norwegian ones. And seated beside her was a wizard, a really beautiful wizard, and he was Norwegian too -
Her friend, Elly Adalbert, glanced at her with a smile before returning again to her book, My Best Friend's a Muggle, by Philomela Wigg. It was the happiest book she had ever seen in her life - with its colourful dancing illustrations of Muggle bliss, it practically oozed Cheering Charm. It was part of a larger educational series by the same author, tempting young witches and wizards with such delights as Mommy, What's a Mudblood? and Some Wizards are Special.
Alfie had groaned when she saw Elly sneaking it into her shopping pot on their most recent trip to Flourish and Blotts: "Just because you're teaching Muggle Studies doesn't mean you need to go out buy every book on Muggles in the store," she had protested. "Besides, you've already got Muggle Psychology and that ridiculous Broomsticks are for Floors: A Study of Muggle Mentality through the Ages. You would think that you were lecturing a roomful of Aurors, not children." "It's an insight into the most current trends in the depiction of Muggles in juvenile literature," Elly had said defensively, "and it's half price." Alfie only sighed and pretended not to know her as they wandered deeper into the shop. Luckily for Alfie, she was blissfully unaware that her friend had brought it with her onto the Hogwarts Express and was now studying at it intently as they waited for the train to leave the station.
Elly looked up again from her book. The train still wasn't moving. It was hot and stuffy in their compartment, and there was no one else in sight, despite the dust and noise and excitement that could be heard all around them. Maybe it was the large STAFF ONLY THANK YOU mark that she had set on the door. She yawned.
"Hello," said the little girl in the bottom of the left-hand page, "My name is Editha! She was wearing a frilly purple robe, and waving violently. She took a running leap onto the next page to give a big hug to a somewhat stunned-looking girl dressed in plaid shorts, a massive green bathrobe and running shoes.
"This is Candice!" exclaimed Editha, "She's my very best friend!" Editha proceeded to drag Candice around the corner off the page with a strum of harp music.
Insight or not, this was going to be a very long trip.
A shadow fell across the floor as the door to the compartment rolled open. Elly turned and blinked. A stranger of the tall, dark and definitely not handsome type stared back at her. "This is the new staff car, I see," he said dryly.
He looked somewhat unsure of himself - he must be one of the new Hogwarts teachers too, she thought to herself. Be nice, thought Elly, make friends, influence people. She tried to fight the icky feeling crawling down her spine, the one you get when a really reeky tattered old wizard stumbles onto the Knight Bus and the only empty seat is the one right beside you and you catch yourself muttering some kind of sick reversal of a summoning charm under your breath even though you know it's not right and - Smile.
"Hello!" she said with a bright smile, reaching out her hand, "I'm Eloise. I'm the new Muggle Studies professor. Call me Elly. It's a pleasure to meet you!
There was a slight pause. He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to slam the door right back again in her face, if that had been in fact possible given that the door had no hinges. He looked as if she opened her mouth one more time, he just might transfigure the door into something you could slam. He did not take her hand.
A perky voice piped up from her open book, which was getting impatient: "Editha says, it's time to turn the page!"
"Part of your research, no doubt," the newcomer said sardonically, and sat down.
"As a matter of fact, it is," Elly informed him, and shut the book as quickly as she could without seeming obviously embarrassed. She reached into her bag and pulled out Muggle Psychology - it was slightly longer than Muggle Mentality through the Ages - and began to read it as intently as possible. There was a silence in the air, broken only by the occasional snore from Alfie.
A very, very long trip.