Perceptual Distortions- 4

A/N: Another chapter, typed in record speed in my desire to finally finish a chaptered story. Basically what I wanted to do with this chapter is set up the backdrop of the story... remember, we are still in the early stages of the transformation of Bartemius Crouch Junior. And, if you notice, there is an S in Perceptual DistortionS, hinting that maybe Barty isn't the only person to change their perception. I like the Ravenclaw Common Room! I think I'd renounce my spiritual home at Slytherin for it!

It was not, as Hermione expected, largely similar to the Gryffindor common room. It was open and airy with the patriotic blues and bronzes restricted to the sofas and chairs neatly positioned around a very large table. It actually looked like a tower with large, stained-glass windows shining their beautiful patterns into the room. Images of a woman, Rowena Ravenclaw, draped in blue and holding a book were beside another image of a large bird, wings outstretched with piercing eyes.

The table was placed directly in the centre of the room. It was round and surrounded by large, comfortable chairs. It was very elegant and refined, yet had an air of practicality and order about it. This is where most of the Ravenclaws did their homework and study, Barty explained with a slight ruffle of his nose. He preferred to work in his dormitory or in the library, away from the constant chatter of the common room. A common misconception, he had said grinning, was that many Ravenclaws were know-it-all, bookworms with brains the size of melons. Hermione had been slightly taken aback by this discovery but his words were supported by the sight of a group of seventh years organising a game of Exploding Snap for gallons.

Hermione supposed that she shouldn't be surprised by this attitude. Many of the houses acted in a certain way just for tradition, rather than actual characteristics. Hufflepuffs were nice but plain, Ravenclaws were intelligent but dull, Slytherins were cunning but untrustworthy, Gryffindors were bold but arrogant. Everyone knew these stereotypes and everyone stuck to them, most of the time. When Hermione was in Gryffindor, she often heard Lavender cry at night because she was failing potions. During the day, it didn't matter what Lavender's grade was because she was a brave Gryffindor. During the night, she couldn't help but cry. She couldn't help but be Lavender Brown, girl rather than Lavender Brown, Gryffindor.

The House system successfully took away the identity of every student of Hogwarts, past and present. No-one could be an individual because of where they took supper at night.

Ravenclaws were not all booky, brainy types who cared for nothing else but learning. Hufflepuffs were not all nice, plodding types who would do anything for another human being. Slytherins were not all cunning, manipulative types who were preparing for a life of evil deeds. Gryffindors were not all loud, bold, brave types who rushed headlong into everything.

To stereotype is to folly.

A section of the common room was roped off with a large ruby red rope. The walls in here were lined with bookshelves, varying in size, colour and capacity. Books, neatly organised and catalogued, filled the bookshelves in order of skill level (first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh years) which had subcategories for each of the topics studied at Hogwarts. Comfortable, black chairs were strategically placed throughout. Hermione could see a rota pinned to one of the walls above a large, leather-bound book. She could just make out the title of the list; "Library Duty" and a list of all Ravenclaws. It was a simple library for the private use of all Ravenclaw students.

Hermione looked at the books longingly, her heart giving the familiar pang of a woman in love with the written word. People change; they grow taller, fatter, thinner, happier, sadder, angrier, more sarcastic, more cheerful, more psychotic but books... books never change. They will always tell you their secrets if you treat them with kindness and generosity, a lesson which Harry and Ron could never understand. Books do not get up and leave, abandoning all they had once held dear. Books are always the same, never-changing and ever-loving.

Hermione could understand books. Books never lie. Books never think "it's too risky". Books never ignore Hermione's sacrifices over the years. Books never think they know better than you. Books never hurt you. Books never leave you.

Hermione Granger liked books.

Hermione couldn't stop counting her lucky stars that there were only four other Ravenclaw girls, meaning there was a bed spare in the dormitory. No-one knew why there were five beds laid out for four girls but Hermione, for once, didn't care to ponder the details. She was tired, incredibly tired, and so all she wished for was to sleep without thinking.

The other girls of the Ravenclaw dormitory had other ideas, however.

A tall girl with a strong jaw, shoulder-length brown hair, dark brown eyes and a wide smile introduced herself as Julie Frost. She was lounging lazily at the bottom of her bed, alternating between painting her toe-nails a vivacious red and peering at Hermione curiously.

Another girl, smaller and blonde, was propped up in her bed reading a muggle book, Little Women, with her black-framed, square glasses sitting neatly on her pointed nose. Lucy King flashed Hermione a bright smile before drawing herself back to the book.

Eleanor Martin and another girl, Molly Houston, sat on the same bed idly chatting about their day. Molly Houston was another blonde but of Scottish origin as her merry prattling revealed. She had an airy voice and a loud laugh. Eleanor was absentmindedly plaiting Molly's hair into one long braid.

"So, Jane, what was it like travelling around with your parents?" Eleanor smiled politely as Hermione climbed into her new bed. "Dumbledore said you learnt magic with them?"

"Yes" Hermione nodded "My mum and dad liked to travel and couldn't see the point in staying in one place all of the time. They taught me magic as we travelled throughout Europe and Africa."

"It seems a shame that you had to come to school for your last few years to do the external exams. Although, I suppose I can see why the Ministry made you! Qualifications are everything these days." Julie said rolling her eyes. Hermione gave her a weak smile, pulling the blankets over herself in an attempt to hint at her tiredness.

"It makes sense." Lucy finally spoke, pulling her eyes from her book and snapping them on Hermione's face. "Surely, you cannot have expected a proper future without doing your OWLS or NEWTS? Yes, it makes perfect sense to come to Hogwarts now."

Hermione merely acknowledged this with the slightest nod. She was not in the mood for questioning. She wanted to sleep.

"What do you think of Hogwarts, Jane?" Eleanor asked, pushing Molly from her lap, finally finishing her long braid.

"It's nice. Everyone is very friendly here and I like it." Hermione's reply was short and to the point. These girls, well intentioned aside, were driving her crazy and it was only her first night.

"Even the Slytherins?" Molly giggled loudly. The other girls in the dormitory followed suit and Hermione had an urge to join them.

"I haven't spoken to many."

"Watch out for them, Jane." Eleanor warned, eyes flashing seriously. "Most of them are fine... Well, not exactly 'fine' so much as tolerable but others you need to keep an eye on. Especially the seventh year ones, that Snape is a nasty bugger if ever I have met one. Rabastan Lestrange, he's in our year, is always up to something with that gang of his. All pure-blood elitist types, you know? Pretty harmless in class but I know I wouldn't want to run into them down a dark corridor. Generally just keep out of their way and they'll ignore you. We have a few classes with them but, don't worry, Jane. We'll watch out for you."

"And it's not just the Slytherins you need to watch out for, now." Molly muttered darkly, her soft Scottish burr was tinged with an unspoken anger. "Those Gryffindor seventh years are as bad as the Slytherins and, in most cases, worse. Always playing cruel practical jokes on anyone younger than them just for a few cheap laughs. You can always tell where you stand with a Slytherin, they always want something from you but Gryffindors, especially James bloody Potter... they do it for fun. To show how brilliant they are. You can never tell who is going to be their next victim."

"So basically avoid everyone who isn't a Ravenclaw?" Hermione grinned, biting down a desire to scream. Hermione had always had her suspicions that James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were not boys that everyone loved. Hermione had heard of their pranks, legendary throughout Gryffindor history, and had thought them cruel rather than heroic. She knew they were kind men, she had seen their kindness first hand, but she also knew they were cruel boys.

"By Jove, I think she's got it" Julie said straight-faced with a mocking accent. Eleanor and Molly both giggled loudly whilst Hermione was sure she heard a chuckle from Lucy's bed. Hermione indulged them with a smile. "The only ones you can really trust are the ones from your own house. Well, most of us! The boys are a little bizarre but nothing too objectionable."

"Either geniuses or they think they are." Eleanor smiled sardonically. "On one hand you've got Darius Baxter, brainy as heck but a complete and utter snobby, elitist git. Maxwell Peters, copies Darius' work all day and still has the audacity to believe he is God's gift to Ravenclaw. The twins, Philip and Ray Osmond, spend all day tinkering with whatever they can find to build Merlin knows what. Their dad is a Muggle and has something to do with, erm, electricity so they spend most of their spare time getting bits and bobs sent to them by post." Eleanor hesitated. Hermione could have sworn she saw a glint of mischief in her eyes. "And then there's Barty..."

"And then there is Barty, indeed." Molly grinned wickedly and winked suggestively in the direction of Hermione.

"The smartest boy on the planet. He is going to get twelve OWLS for sure! You'd think having his father,...you know his father, Jane? Bartemius Crouch?" Hermione nodded briefly, all to aware of the memory of his father. Eleanor continued "Yeah you'd think he'd be really stuck up and arrogant but he is the loveliest, sweetest guy ever. If you ever have a problem with anything, he'd be sure to help you out. He's really quiet, though and doesn't speak too much unless you speak to him first."

"I think his father is the most horrid man ever. He hardly ever sees Barty and whenever he does, he puts him down. How could anyone put Barty down? He works harder than most of the Hufflepuffs and is more cunning than most of the Slytherins! He really is a unique human being." Julie continued after Eleanor with a thoughtful tone of voice. "I wouldn't put it past Senior to hurt him. Poor Barty."

"Yeah, poor Barty" Lucy added quietly, finally setting her book aside. "Imagine having a father like that. He never supports him, always runs him down and you can always tell when Barty has heard something from home. He doesn't deserve that sort of life. It's a wonder how he is such a great guy after everything he's gone through."

"Poor Barty" Molly sighed dramatically, gracefully moving into her own bed. "Great guy, horrible life. No wonder he is so quiet all of the time! I'm going to sleep now, girls. We can talk more tomorrow!"

The other girls bade each other goodnight as, one by one, the lights dimmed to darkness.

'Poor Barty' Hermione thought, finally putting her head down for a well needed rest. 'Poor Barty, indeed.'

Hermione's first class as Jane March was Transfiguration with a familiar, albeit younger face. Professor McGonagall still looked similar to the McGonagall Hermione remembered, excepting her hair was black with a few grey strands rather than the opposite. Still stern and formidable, Professor McGonagall offered a little solace Hermione had been craving.

"Welcome to your first transfiguration class, March." She had said firmly at the start of the lesson. "We do not expect slacking nor misbehaviour in my class, students caught doing either activity will be politely asked to remove their presence from my classroom and say goodbye to their chances of an OWL in transfiguration. Please, take your seat and we will start the class."

Hermione slid into an empty spot beside Barty. He smiled warmly and gave mouthed a "Hello". Hermione felt her face melt into a return smile and she whispered her own greeting.

"Today we will be continuing our work on transfiguring a quill into a flower. Only three of you have managed it thus far and I would like the entire class to finish this by the end of the week. Martin, Crouch and Baxter will circulate the classroom. You may begin."

Professor McGonagall sat stiffly onto her chair and began marking a large pile of homework. Hermione felt the familiar atmosphere of a transfiguration classroom rush over her as she lifted her wand from her pocket and placed it gently on the desk.

"I'm glad you are here, Jane" Barty said after a few moments. Hermione glanced up from her textbook (provided by Dumbledore, of course). Barty was absentmindedly twirling his wand along his long fingers. "Everyone else pairs up. Eleanor and Molly, Darius and Maxwell, and the twins. Which leaves me, on my own as usual. Now, I've got you to sit beside me and irritate me with your desk-stealing habits. I must warn you, I have drawn an invisible line down the desk. Any attempts to cross it will be seen as an act of war and I will react in the appropriate manner... you have been warned, Janey-Jane."

Barty waggled his eyebrows in a seemingly threatening manner and Hermione grinned a little more. It was very hard to forget who he would become, she thought darkly, watching him balance quills idly at his desk.

Hermione shook her head to clear it of her thoughts, reminding herself of her promise to live her life in the present. She lifted her wand and murmured the spell she had learnt and perfected during her original fifth year. The quill turned into a large sunflower.

"Hmm... I said you looked like a sunflower type of girl." Barty grinned over her shoulder. It was a maniacal grin, incredibly infectious, and Hermione just couldn't stop grinning herself. Barty looked toward Professor McGonagall. "Professor, Jane just transfigured her quill into a sunflower."

"Very good, March. Very good indeed." Professor McGonagall examined Hermione's sunflower with rapt attention. "You have a skill for transfiguration."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

Hermione was attacked by a barrage of 'Congratulations' from her fellow Ravenclaws. Barty cocked an impressed eyebrow which Hermione felt was worth more than the parroted "Well Done".

"You are a challenge, Jane March." Barty whispered, his ear close to Hermione's as they made their way out of the classroom. Hermione shivered as she felt his breath brush against the back of her neck. He was close, so close she could smell the intoxicating aroma of him. He smelt of parchment, outdoors and mint.

"I do hope no-one ever underestimates you."

A/N: I doubt any of the new original characters will feature that much in the story because I have a slight fear of writing a dormitory of Mary Sues. Urg... Remember: this story is all about Barty. I love Barty and he deserves it.

Coming in the next chapter: Hermione and Barty bond a little more, an important character makes an unwelcome appearence, there is a letter from home and the trap is finally honeyed.