For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

7 – Classes, Week Six, Second Year
Tuesday, October 5, 1999:
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: 09:04
The door opened at Mattie's approach, the Headmaster waving her in as Professor McGonagall turned; sheaves of parchment in her hands. "Come in, come in Miss Wayne," he called. "Just going over figures on where we can economize."

"I feel somewhat guilty about that," she said. "After all, I did authorize Gringott's to investigate."

"Nonsense," Minerva said. "You have no control over the Ministry's budgeting process. When Minister Fudge decides to move funds from one account to another, it's not your concern at all."

"Still, I had an idea. I'll have to investigate it further before I suggest it," Mattie said.

"Good, good. I did have a request from Madame Pomfrey that you see her. Would you like to continue with our lessons next week, as this problem is a bit pressing?"

Mattie nodded, "I'll do that. Thank you, Headmaster, Professor."

Poppy Pomfrey looked up at the knock on her doorframe. "Madame Pomfrey? You wanted to see me?"

"Miss Wayne, please come in," she said as she waved the girl in, silently casting several spells on her. "Close the door, please." Picking up her wand, she ostentatiously cast 'obscurus' for a privacy shield.

"There's a couple arguments you can pass to that spell," Mattie said, sitting down, a proper young lady. "I like 'obscurus aqua' myself, gives a nice wavy blue effect, like ocean waves. What can I do for you?" Her open body language and her aura showed a mild turquoise of curiosity, together with a very strong grey of secrecy (far greater than most Slytherins), a touch of yellow impatience, bordered by a thin red line of anger and another thin black line of evil. Poppy didn't worry about the last two, everyone conscious showed those.

"Narcissa and I were reviewing student health records, and we came across a discrepancy regarding you." Poppy watched her aura change, the red of anger surging a bit in reflex at the invasion of privacy, the body language closing down in conjunction with the surge of curiosity. Miss Wayne remained outwardly calm, her magical aura surging in a wash of blue, restrained by thin lines of yellow control.

"That would be?"

"You are one of only two witches in your age group who has not yet come to us requesting information or potions regarding menses." 'Ah, there it is,' Poppy thought, as Miss Wayne's eyes narrowed slightly, 'Look at that spike of anger. Yes, her magic is surging, too.'

"I could have looked it up online, or brewed the potion myself."

"Indeed, you might have looked it up yourself, however, Severus assures me your potion skills are not yet up to brewing the correct formula." 'A shot of green betrayal. Interesting, she regards Severus as a father-figure of some sort, possibly as a fellow clansman or trusted ally?' "In addition, several of the ingredients are restricted. You may have obtained them illegally, but for this potion, that makes no sense." The girl's eyes flickered, as Poppy continued, "In addition, for best results, the formula is adjusted for each person. Yours would be slightly different than, say, Minerva's."

'A spike of curiosity,' "Professor McGonagall takes it? Isn't she, well, too old?"

"Not at all. Witches and wizards have more than double the muggle lifespan. You may very well reach 215 or so, while your male counterparts will reach two hundred. Minerva has thirty or so years left for childbearing."

Miss Wayne sprang up and started to pace, red anger surging along with her magic. Severus had warned her that Miss Wayne was a physical type, whose stress outlet was exercise of some sort. Poppy had wondered how long she would sit quietly in a chair. Sitting back, she let the girl calm herself, mildly curious why she had gotten upset at that point. Severus had said that she was extremely unlikely to attack her personally (as some students had done), that Miss Wayne considered it 'safer' to take out her anger in the gym. That was, however, part of the problem. After a few minutes, she threw herself back in the chair, muttering, "Childbearing."

"You are female."

'A spike of purple jealousy, interesting.' "Don't I know it," the girl said, lapsing into a moody silence, breaking it with, "Boys have it so easy!"

"They have their own problems, physical as well as emotional and psychological," Poppy said, with a spike of curiosity from the girl. "While there are gender-changing spells and potions, they do not convey the social training, the mannerisms that let us determine male from female."

She grunted, lapsing again into a moody silence. Poppy waited patiently, until Miss Wayne sighed, her anger collapsing down into a slightly thicker red line. "Y'see, over the summer break, I went on a road trip with Sprink and Arthur. Um, Miss Tonks and Mr. Morton." Poppy nodded slightly, the girl continued, "During the trip, we took a couple of drops of aging potion, to get us up to twenty or so. Well, during that time, I … I … bled."

Poppy waited silently, and after a minute, Miss Wayne elucidated. "I had always wondered if I would be as big as Mom, y'know, her boobs. Tits. Whatever. Well, I know I will now, and I also know how heavy they can get," she added, waving at her flat chest. "They were kinda neat, and I enjoyed the guys looking, but, about a week and a half after I took the potion, I felt this awful cramp, down, well, down there, and I felt … wet. I thought I had peed myself somehow. So I stopped in a washroom, and there was this … awful bloody … mess." She gazed sightlessly at the desk, adding, "I couldn't get the stain out, and I smelled awful. I had to burn the jeans. My favorite pair, too, and it just kept coming!" She looked up, asking, "Why doesn't Sprink, um…"

"A side effect of the werewolf condition is that Miss Tonks and Miss Johnson only come into season during the full moon. To produce a full-blooded werewolf, Mr. Slater must impregnate them during a full moon. As they do not want other werewolves born, they restrain themselves during that time. Their potion also has an ingredient that helps to dull their libido. They are otherwise normal, although female werewolves do not suffer from menstruation. You may need to watch out for both anemia and calcium loss." Poppy looked over her glasses, asking, "Have you… experimented?"

'Green embarrassment' "It's a sin! Father Tim… I shouldn't…"

"Be like every other person on this planet?" Poppy snorted. "In any case, that is not what I asked you here to discuss. You have what I believe to be an obsession with exercise. It is impeding the normal, healthy development of your body, which is why you have not started menstruation. As I said, you are one of only two witches in first and second year who have not contacted either your head of house, or us. Why not?"

"Well, Professor Snape's a …"

"Man?" Poppy snorted. "Please be assured that he and Professor Flitwick have dealt with quite a few hormonal teenaged witches, just as Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout have embarrassed a number of oversexed young wizards." Poppy raised her hand, adding, "I also don't want to hear about the dangers of your hometown. I wrote a mmail …"

"email"

"… email to your physician of record, Dr. Phillips, who informs me that he discussed this with you over the Christmas holidays. He adds that you can be somewhat obsessive, and that he suggested exercise no more than three times a week while your body was changing." She opened her mouth, but Poppy rolled on, "He upgraded it to a warning during the summer hols, when you appeared to dismiss his suggestion." She pulled a folder out, passing it to Miss Wayne, and sat back.

The girl gazed at her warily, then flipped open the file and started to read. Like all of Poppy's own Ravenclaws, and the great majority of Slytherins, she started in the back, reading forward chronologically. The Hufflepuffs tended to flip through their files, while the Gryffindors would stop at the first bit of medical jargon. She sat back and watched Miss Wayne's expression (and aura) while she read. She finally flipped the cover closed, almost absently placing it neatly and squarely on Poppy's desk blotter. She sat back, hands steepled, and thought. Glancing at Poppy, she asked, "If I don't? If I continue with what you consider an 'unhealthy obsession with exercise', what then?"

"I am not objecting to your exercising, indeed I applaud it, in moderation. I wish that some of your schoolmates, indeed, some faculty members as well, would participate. However, if you do not agree to restrict yourself to three times a week, for no more than…" Poppy narrowed her eyes, "… ten hours total, not including Quidditch, I will ban you from the gymnasium."

"I don't need a gym, I can use my common room, or the dorm."

"Very true. However, I would eventually hear about it, and would then be forced to put you on medical waiver for Quidditch." The two locked eyes, green to brown. The girl sighed, "I'll agree to twelve hours a week, it's more evenly divided."

Poppy nodded, but Mattie said, "That doesn't really help with my stress, you know."

"Your schoolwork…?"

Miss Wayne snorted, jumped up, and started to pace. "If only it was that. People think, 'Oh, it must be great to be rich,' but they don't realize the stresses that come with it. Yes, you can hire extra security, but then you wonder if you, or they, have missed something that will kill you." She glanced over to Poppy, adding, "Nutjobs and whackos have gotten through the best security, killing kings and presidents. When it's your parents, you worry, even though there's nothing you can do. Did you know that my dad has a price on his head?" Poppy sat up, shocked, and she continued, "Ten million galleons. Then again, I've been kidnapped twice while I was here, despite the headmaster's security. Yes, I know once was at the Ministry, but can you really blame me for being paranoid? For working on martial arts, improving and tuning my body, because, when it comes down to it, all I can really rely on is myself. It's nice to have others, but they can be taken out."

She flung herself in the chair again, adding, "Did you know I had an escape from Azkaban worked out when Mom and Professor McGonagall rescued me? The only problem was that I had to use Imperious; I was trying to figure out a way around that. I'd rather not be actually guilty of casting an Unforgivable, you see. I figured I had to escape quickly, before the dementors made me lose my mind, and I was too weak to do it. You know that one guard was withholding food and water from me, until I consented to sex?"

Poppy's mouth dropped open in shock, as Miss Wayne started to pace again. "I'm sure he would have eventually just raped me, and yes, I know not all men are like that." She tapped her forehead, adding, "Up here. Emotionally, though, psychologically, I'm associating sex with that asshole, and my period with sex. At least according to that shrink in New York." She started to do isometric exercises against the wall, adding, "'Exercise is a defense mechanism', she said. I'm 'getting ready for the next one', even though, if I were willing to void my oaths, it would have been trivial to snap that asshole's neck, or leave him writhing in that cell in agony as the tide came in. I wouldn't need a wand, or magic." She looked over at Poppy, adding, "The North Sea flooded those cells. Asshole arranged my chains so I took a saltwater bath twice a day."

She took a deep breath, then said, "See why I'm not right when you associate my period with…" she scrunched up her nose, "…childbirth? It's a disgusting, messy process; that I'd rather avoid if I can. So I obsess about exercise, which lets me avoid all the other problems in my life."

"I was given to understand that your brother gave you a weapon of some kind…"

"Ah, yes, the ring," She took her seat again, leaning forward to show her right hand, a rather ordinary dull grey ring rested on her middle finger, the design a simple circle with a bar above and below. Turning it, she added, "Doesn't look like much, does it? Only two others in the galaxy, though." She sat back, adding, "With this ring, I can take the moon out of its orbit, and drop it in the Atlantic Ocean, or kick planets out of their orbits, destroying all life on them. I think you'll agree; it's a rather potent weapon. Now, I love my brother dearly, but I did NOT want this. I'm stuck with it, though." She worked it off her finger, tossing it on the desk, where it rolled to face Poppy. Miss Wayne added, "By the way, it's intelligent."

Wednesday, October 6, 1999:
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:34
"That concludes old business," Albus said, sipping his tea. "Moving on, has anyone had suggestions for financing?"

"One of my sixth-years asked if we were planning on soliciting donations from alumni," Filius said. "It's apparently a common practice among muggle schools. Even a few galleons here and there can apparently add up to quite a bit."

"How much is 'quite a bit'?" Minerva asked. "Our commissary bill alone over the last few years averages between ten and eleven thousand galleons a month. By paring down the number of roasts, hams and such, we can trim that, and if we can budget for three new hothouses, we can increase our supply of vegetables."

"That would be better nutritionally for everyone," Poppy said. "Of course, I've also been on several of you to exercise more," glancing pointedly at several people.

"Well, then all we need do is to come up with six thousand galleons for the three hothouses. I don't think our capital improvement budget has that much room in it." Minerva sighed, "Albus, I'm being stretched too thin. I'm now two weeks behind in handing back homework, in addition to my other duties. I'm sadly neglecting my students to worry about the budget. Why, I didn't even know about a fight in my common room until a day after it happened!" She rested her head in shaking hands, "My students have to be my top priority!"

"What was the fight about?" Irma Pince asked.

"You-know-who, would you believe it? Miss Koslowski got off some very advanced hexes and jinxes, several rather dark." Minerva looked over her glasses at Harry, "What have you been teaching them?"

He held up his hands, "Nothing darker than the shielding charm. How would a muggleborn firstie know dark hexes? Has she been sneaking into the restricted section?"

Irma snorted, "Not MY restricted section! It's locked up tighter than a drum."

Callista Vector cleared her throat, "Getting back on track, I'll take over the budgeting for you, Minerva. I need something to get my mind off my old maid status."

"I thought you and Warren…" Pomona said.

Callista shook her head. "Wasn't meant to be; besides, there were, um… Quidditch differences between us."

"Quidditch differences," Severus drawled, eyes hooded. He met Callista's eyes; then slowly nodded, "That will do it. My sympathies."

"Yes, why don't you come by my quarters Friday night after seven," Pomona said. "I've got a gallon of ice cream on reserve with the elves, Minerva can bring the books; we can have a regular 'girl's night' of it!"

"Ice cream, accounting and girl talk, sounds like … fun." Callista said, eyes going wide when Pomona made a small pinching gesture next to her lips. As Pomona slowly drew the pinch away, Callista added, "I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"

"Medically speaking, fire whisky helps with ice cream overdoses," Poppy said. "I'll ask Narcissa to attend for the medical department. She's been in need of ice cream for some time now."

"Well, such a wonderful thing," Albus said. "Perhaps we ought to get to class, now."

Friday, October 8, 1999:
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Pomona Sprout: 19:24
Severus rapped once on Pomona's door, after a minute it swung open, Pomona smiling, "Sev! Please, come in, come in!"

"I shan't stay long; I offered to look in on the Gryffindors for Minerva. I came to offer two potions. The first, in the green flask, enhances the 'effect' of your ice cream." He smirked, adding, "Use only in very small doses. The red potion will completely negate the effects of your 'ice cream', and any additives. One shot per person at the end of the evening." He bowed slightly and left.

"Y'know, under that cold exterior," Callista said, "there beats the heart of… of… ah, Merlin take it! What were we discussing?

"Men!" Minerva said, shaking loose her bun. "Now, Filius, on the other hand…"

Friday, October 8, 1999:
Hogwarts, Gryffindor tower: 19:44
"Hello, Severus!" the fat lady said. "I don't see you up this way too often."

"I am checking on Minerva's students for her, while she is otherwise occupied," he said. "The staff password is 'anagram'."

"It certainly is! In you go," she said as she swung wide.

A widening cone of silence greeted the Potion Master as he entered the Gryffindor common room. He scowled, stalking about the room, leaning over an engrossed student at the chessboard. His opponent looked up, saw the looming form of the head of Slytherin a few inches away and jumped, knocking over his king, but Professor Snape was gone.

Severus stopped at a table, leaning over Violet Pellew as she did her potions homework. A long finger tapped a paragraph in her book, and she looked up, but he had already moved on. He cleared his throat at a couple engrossed in each other, frowning at the boy, who let out a frightened 'Eep!'. Silently, he moved up the girl's staircase, stopping at the first year's landing, giving a quick knock and opening the door to lean in. The silent common room didn't hear what he said, but there were immediate thumps and bangs. The door was closed, and he climbed the stairs to the second-year's.

After he finished with the girls dorms, he silently ascended the boy's, to the accompaniment of cursing and points being deducted. On the fifth-year's dorm, a school tie (Hufflepuff) was hung on the doorknob. The common room waited as the door was silently opened, an enraged bellow turning to a scream of fear. Feminine screams were heard among the shouting, and a blonde figure in a terrycloth robe escaped, running sobbing out the portrait hole.

"Her name, Bayes, or it will be two hundred points and FOUR weeks of detention with ME!" the common room heard. "Do you want to marry the girl? She must drink a potion within SIX hours to prevent conception! There is no reason to ruin HER life, you arrogant, thickheaded fool! What is her name?"

The potion master slammed the fifth-year's door after him, stalking up to check the sixth and seventh. Coming back down, the students in the common room cringed away from the Potion Master as he stalked across the room to the fire. Taking a bit of floo powder, he snarled, "Hufflepuff common room!" and was gone.

Friday, October 8, 1999:
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff common room: 20:33
"Mr. Slater," the Potion Master asked as he stepped out of the fireplace, "Where is Miss Geary?"

"She ran in a few minutes ago, sir, crying her eyes out," the werewolf said. "She's in her dorm. Is there a problem?"

"I hope not," Professor Snape replied, nodding his thanks as he stalked across to the stairs leading down to the girl's dorms. He vanished from sight, and Jeremy traded looks with others in the common room.

Severus knocked once on the third-year's dorm, then entering. He saw the blonde, still in her bathrobe, crying on her bunk, being comforted by other girls. He cleared his throat, "Miss Michaels, Miss Geary needs to drink a potion within six hours to prevent conception. If you can be spared, she will have it available."

"It's not in the cabinet?" Abby asked, referring to the collection of headache cures and other household remedies stocked in each dorm. Severus moved to check, then shook his head.

"But he said he … cared about me!" Geary wailed, breaking into a fresh batch of tears. Abby rolled her eyes; then motioned to the door.

"Thank you, Professor," Abby said as they walked to the Potion Master's office. He nodded fractionally, and she continued, "How'd you find out about it, though? Neither one is a Slytherin."

"My Slytherins would never risk my displeasure," he said. "Mr. Bayes' four weeks of detention with me would be eight were he a Slytherin. Both Minerva and Pomona are working on the budget cock-up right now, as is Callista. Filius was to attend to Hufflepuff for Pomona, whilst I took Gryffindor. I was doing a bed-check when I discovered the two of them without protection of any sort." He stopped, and hissed at a statue, which rolled aside.

"I didn't know you were a parseltongue, Professor."

"I am not. The statue only responds in parseltongue; one of Salazar Slytherin's more amusing jokes. These were once his quarters. I do not know the pass phrase to change the password, and Professor Potter was unable to deduce it. The phrase itself is a rather racy insult on mammalians." He gestured her in, adding, "Do not, of course, touch anything."

"Of course," clasping her hands behind her, she strolled about as the potion master lit a fire, pouring a yellow fluid into a small cauldron. As he worked, she glanced at a small disk of paper with a grayish material. "Professor, what's this? I don't recognize it."

"That is moon dust. It is a Class A non-tradable item, selling on the black market for approximately fifty thousand galleons the tenth-gram. The Americans have the world's only supply, they think." He smirked, adding, "That disk holds Hogwart's entire yearly budget. I am working on a revised wolfsbane potion, now come away. Miss Geary's potion is ready, it must be drunk hot."

Saturday, October 9, 1999:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Ravenclaw table: 07:32
Lee and Sprink wandered into the Great Hall, joining the Cortez twins and Amanda at their wave. Lee yawned, pouring a cup of coffee, while Sprink added milk to her tea. Shaundra (or Roshawn) leaned over, asking, "Heard the latest?"

"Latest what?" Charlie asked, carrying his tea over from Hufflepuff. He waved to Arthur, who was just entering the hall.

"The latest gossip, silly," the other twin said. "We heard Snape invaded the Gryffie common room last night!"

Lee saw her yearmate Violet enter, and waved her over as Amanda snorted. "I was there, working on DADA homework, and I saw him. I wouldn't exactly call it an invasion, though. He prowled around, leaned over Violet's shoulder and startled a lot of people, but then he walked up the stairs to do a bed check."

"He yelled at one of the fifth-year boys, gave him four weeks of detention (they all shuddered), and docked two hundred points!" Violet added, "We're in negative numbers, aren't we?" She looked at Amanda, "If our Quidditch team is really, really good, then maybe…"

Sprink and the Cortez twins traded a look, and burst out laughing. Amanda frowned, "Excuse me! I am one of the Chasers, you know."

"Why no, we didn't. Thanks ever so much, mate," Sprink answered cheerfully. "You've still got to get past our Ballistic and our own record-setting Seeker if you're going to get the House Cup on Quidditch points alone." She raised her teacup, "Speaking of who… you're up early, mate!"

"You're dumping ice water on me didn't help," Mattie complained, sitting between Violet and Lee. "Pass the coffeepot, please."

"You're going to turn into a coffee urn yourself," Arthur said as he passed it over. "I may not follow Quidditch like you do, but that's a weak strategy," he mentioned to Violet. "You've got to recover your deficit; then score more points than two pretty good teams."

"Thank you, Arthur," one of the twins said. "You play Slytherin next month, and then Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw in April. Now, Sprink here is a pretty good Chaser (Mattie kicked Lee under the table when she opened her mouth), but we have a new Keeper that's going to give you fits. Mattie there has the fastest broom in school, and has a school record for the fastest catch of a Snitch."

The other twin added, "Right now, you Gryffies are down 260 points. That's eleven goals and catching the Snitch against Slytherin just to break even with the beginning of term. Even if all three of the other house teams and their reserves didn't take the field, you'd win by default, but not with what you need, points."

"So what do we do?" Violet asked plaintively.

"Get your guys to keep their pants on," one twin suggested, Amanda replying "Oy, it wasn't…"

"Post's here!" someone called, and the usual flock of owls came in, one separating and flying above the rest.

"Oh, dear!" Amanda said, looking at the lone black owl with a black envelope clutched in its claws. "That's a Ministry death notice. I wonder who…" She half-stood, looking around the hall with other people, as the owl flew out, message undelivered.

A number of owls were circling above, intermixed with bats. Mattie pushed back, and addressed the Hufflepuffs behind her, "I'm about to get several Howlers, and I'd like to apologize in advance." Resuming her seat, she added, "That's why I like the Slytherin table, there's a solid wall behind me I can throw them against." She took a breath, "Bring 'em on!"

Sprink called up to the owls, "Oy, some of you for Wayne, line up here!" As they split off, Violet asked, "How long has this been going on?"

"Beginning of term," Lee answered, relieving a bat of its letter. "The bats are business correspondence, and the Howlers (one shouting about a missed goal) are fan mail." She untied another note, adding, "The box ticket holders seem to be the worst, rich arrogant bastards. Of course, if they ran the team, everything would be perfect."

"Not all rich people are arrogant bastards," Mattie said. "Just most of the ones I've met," She cringed at another Howler, before batting it away. "Why are they writing me? I don't decide strategy, that's the coach's job." She stood up as the last Howler finished, and told the Hufflepuff table, "Sorry about that, everyone."

"We're used to it by now," Amy Johnson said from the Hufflepuff table.

As Charlie passed down the rest of Mattie's correspondence, he asked Violet, "How's your study group coming?"

"What study group?"

"Find some other first-years that you can work with and put together a study group," Arthur replied.

"We've already got those in Gryffindor," Violet said.

Charlie shook his head, "An interhouse group. I'm with Arthur, Sprink, Mattie, Amanda and the Cortez twins. Between all of us, only one failing grade for the year."

Mattie added, "My Transfig exam last year."

Arthur snorted, "That would not have happened if you hadn't been kidnapped by Fudge and thrown in Azkaban." He glowered, "My goal is to make sure you pass this year."

Violet and Lee traded looks, as Charlie said, "Long story, I'll tell you later. The point is that between our lot, we've got a bunch of different backgrounds. See, Arthur here is a whiz at math, he got me through some of the rough patches in Astronomy."

"Mattie's a great chemist," Arthur added.

"Arthur, Mattie and the twins all come from the Colonies and muggle backgrounds, so Sprink, Amanda and I get to explain a few things about England and the magical world that they don't understand. It balances out," Charlie finished.

"But an inter-house group? We're supposed to do that sort of thing in house," Violet said, adding, "What about McGonagall and that bit about we're supposed to consider each other family?"

"Some things you keep in house, like Quidditch, and pranks," Sprink said. "Other things, Arthur here is a bloody genius when it comes to charms. I'm not going to ignore that just because he's a Huffie."

Arthur snorted back a laugh as Charlie glared at him. "Don't mind the cynical bloke; he's got six brothers and sisters. But seriously, each House, even Slytherin, has certain assets the others don't. Slythies are generally best at things like potions and herbology, for instance. If you put together the right group, you can benefit from all their strengths and help cover each other's weaknesses."

"Except for Quidditch," Sprink added.