Chapter 5.

Hence the ferret situation

The first day of term started off rather uneventfully. The downpour had turned into a light drizzle, though the hallway floors still squeaked under the rubber soles of shoes. Timetables were handed out to tired students at breakfast, and the seventh-years rejoiced at all their free slots. Stan planned to have a regular midday nap; Lara wondered if she could join him in the idea.

However, the seventh-years quickly realised why they had so many frees in their timetables: N.E.W.T.s were difficult. Last year, Lara had spent the first day of term listening to her teachers congratulate the students on their O.W.L. results and warn that N.E.W.T.s were just around the corner. The corner was now here; Lara and her fellow classmates got homework at the end of every lesson. They were told they would have at least two essays to complete over Christmas in every class, followed by January mock exams, a week of revision sessions during the Easter holidays, and, finally, their N.E.W.T.s in June.

By lunch, Lara was feeling rather dejected. She entered the Great Hall with an armful of books, scrolls, and notepads, already assigned three essays and two worksheets to complete by next week. Dropping the stuff heavily onto the Gryffindor table, she sat down with a sigh.

"Where has all that come from?" asked Erin, staring at the mountain of paper with wide eyes.

"Mostly alchemy," Lara growled and flopped onto the bench. "Two essays and a worksheet from one lesson. What a bunch of shit."

"I told you not to take it," Stan sang as he shovelled carrots into his mouth. "Muggle Studies—that's the way to go. Easy as pie."

"Says the Potions genius."

"I'm not a genius —"

"Please. Even Snape doesn't deny your talent," Lara scoffed and began to pile her plate with food. "Alchemy will help me work with dragons, too, 'cause I'll understand the nature of fire—"

"The nature of fire?" snorted Erin.

Stan also looked confused. "It's hot and painful—what else is there to know?"

Lara opened her mouth to inform them of the magical and cleansing properties that fire could have, when Amanda and Omar appeared. Both of them seemed to have gotten just as much homework as Lara, if not more. This was no surprise; each of them were taking eight N.E.W.T.s.

"You will never guess what I just saw." Amanda grinned manically.

"If this is about someone snogging someone else or some girl being pregnant, I swear to Merlin I will hex you—"

"It's not that." Omar cut off Lara's complaint quickly. "Mandy and I were on our way back from Ancient Runes—"

"And we saw Malfoy being a knob—"

"As usual," grumbled Stan.

"—to Ron Weasley. Harry Potter was with him—obviously—and Harry said something to Malfoy that really pissed him off—"

"Doesn't take much," muttered Erin. "He's like a hormonal Shih Tzu."

"—and Malfoy tries to hex Potter, right? So Professor Moody comes along—"

"The weird-looking guy with the eye and the leg?" Stan asked. "The one that made a more dramatic entrance than the thing that came out of the stomach in Alien?"

Amanda, a pure-blood, ignored this Muggle film reference. "—and shouts about some noble bullshit—don't hex a man with his back turned, whatever—and he—wait for it… he turns Malfoy into a ferret."

There was a stunned silence. Lara sat with her arm hovering mid-air, holding a forkful of chicken.

"He did not," Erin eventually gasped.

"He did." Omar smirked excitedly. "Started bouncing him up and down against the floor. In front of everyone."

"Malfoy the bouncing ferret," whispered Lara in wonderment. "Maybe there is justice in the world."

"THERE IS A GOD!" Erin screamed dramatically. "I can't believe it…"

Stan absentmindedly patted her back as she began to fake sob into her hands. "He can do that?" he whispered, half-horrified and half-awed. "Won't he get fired?"

"Would you fire Moody?" Omar asked, taking a seat and placing his stuff onto the floor. "I heard he's put more than fifty people in Azkaban."

"I heard more than seventy," whispered Amanda. "I spoke to Angelina earlier in the corridor and she said he's crazy. Brilliant, but crazy."

Lara snorted into her pumpkin juice. "Hence the ferret situation."

"A ferret." Stan shook his head with a reverent expression. Taking his hand away from Erin, he grinned at his friends and said, "I can't wait for our D.A.D.A. lesson."

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By Friday, Lara was not ashamed to admit that she was almost ready to tear her hair out. Her homework load had doubled over the week, and the two essays she'd finished and handed in for grading had barely scraped 'A's. McGonagall said Lara needed to 'refresh herself on the basic spells' and Flitwick, though impressed by her pink ink, advised her to 'loosen up and get more creative.'

This led to Lara sitting in the common room on Friday night, her work spread across the floor, her right hand numb from holding her quill, and her hair piled in a bun on top of her head. She would have felt embarrassed by her frazzled state if her fellow seventh-years weren't all in the same position.

"Taste that."

Lara lifted her head from her Alchemy book and found Stan presenting her with a goblet. Eyeing the cup suspiciously, Lara shook her head. "No, not again," she whined. "I nearly threw up last time—"

"You're my best friend," Stan howled with a pleading look. "Please, La."

Lara groaned but reached for the goblet, slowly bringing it to her lips. Bracing her shoulders, she hesitantly took a sip of the brownish liquid. "Urgh!" She retched loudly as the sour juice hit the back of her throat. "It still tastes like vinegar—oh Merlin, Stan! It's disgusting!"

Stan let out a noise between a growl and a moan before taking back the goblet, once more muttering the spell that was supposed to turn the vinegar into wine. Practicing the spell was his Charms homework—it was the only spell he hadn't been able to master last year. Flitwick had said there was no room for leniency as the spell might be on the N.E.W.T.s practical, so Stan had to have it perfected by next week.

Beside him, Erin was busy scribbling into her Herbology book with Fiona Gerald. By the windowsill, Alexa Dawn and Allison Sky, the other two seventh-year girls in Gryffindor, were working on Astronomy homework with Zach Alas and Glenn Chan. Trent Angel and Rhys Newton, the last of the seventh-years, had disappeared upstairs fifteen minutes ago saying that if they had to work for one minute longer, they would ask the giant squid to drown them.

Lara couldn't blame them.

"Well, don't you lot look happy?"

Lara, who was still spluttering and cringing as she tried to clear the disgusting taste from her mouth, could only throw a half-hearted glare at the group of sixth-years as they loped over. Angelina and Alicia sat on the couch with the girls, Lee sat on the arm of Stan's chair, and the twins fell to the ground, landing half on top of Lara's things.

"Don't crinkle the scroll—the scroll—oh Merlin…"

The twin currently crumpling Lara's Alchemy essay winced sheepishly. "Sorry, Lala."

"Lala?" Lara smirked as she gathered her things together, pushing them away from the twins (and their wandering hands). "I think that's a new one."

He grinned widely and somehow—even in years to come, she wouldn't understand the exact mechanisms behind it—she knew it was Fred. "I like to be different," Fred said.

"I think we all know that," snorted Lara.

"Where's all this homework come from?" Angelina asked loudly, staring down at Erin and Fiona's pile of scrolls and books in horror.

"N.E.W.T.s, Johnson. N.E.W.T.s." Erin sounded highly stressed. "Don't grow up, I tell you. Stay a sixth-year forever!"

"Have you got D.A.D.A. homework?"

"Just to practice our wandwork," answered Stan. "Have you guys had him yet?"

All of the sixth-years grinned and nodded. Lee's eyes widened in awed recognition.

"He's mental, isn't he?" George burst out excitedly. "Bloody fantastic, but still mental. I talked to Ron last night—he showed the fourth-years the Unforgivables."

Fiona gasped quietly. "Showed them?"

"On a spider," Lee confirmed, nodding.

"That's horrible," Lara spat and dropped her quill onto her books. "He can't do that—"

"He also can't turn Malfoy into a ferret," Alicia said. "But he did."

"We just worked on non-verbal spells," Stan whispered. Even Stan, who wasn't overly fussed about animals, looked slightly disturbed. "Although he did jinx Lucian Bole for being a knob and messing around during lesson."

"Jinxed him?"

"Jelly-Legs," answered Erin. "Fell to the ground like a fat brick."

There was a moment of silence among the group as they came to the realisation that, although Moody seemed to be a great man, he was a rather… odd choice for a teacher. If McGonagall found out about the Unforgivable Curses, she would freak out—

A sudden rattling noise broke Lara out of her daze. Glancing over, she saw a rather bushy-haired girl standing beside Stan and Lee's armchair, a box in one hand and a small tin in the other.

"Alright, Hermione?" Fred chirped happily. "What's that in your hand?"

"I'm glad you asked!" The fourth-year smiled and handed the bucket to Stan. "I've started a new organisation."

Stan picked something up from the bucket. It looked like a small orange badge. "Spew?" he murmured.

"Not spew," Hermione huffed impatiently. "S.-P.-E.-W. It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

There was a short silence.

And then: "The what?"

"The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," Hermione repeated, staring levelly at Erin, who had been the one to cry out. "Did you know all of your comforts, all the things that keep you warm and fed and happy, are provided by house-elves?"

"Well… yeah." Angelina shrugged unconcernedly. "They clean the common room and stuff, don't they? Do the laundry? Make the food?"

"For free!" Hermione squealed so shrilly, Angelina jumped in shock. "They don't get paid. They don't get holidays. They don't get a retirement package."

"Paid?" Alicia whispered to Angelina, her eyebrows furrowed. "Why would they be paid—"

"Because they're working. They should get paid," Hermione spat, turning away from them with a huff. "I want to make sure that they get the respect they deserve. They shouldn't be slaves."

"But—"

"The enslavement of house-elves has lasted for centuries, did you know that?" Hermione continued, ignoring Lee as he tried to speak. "All they do is help and care for wizards, and they're treated worse than dirt. They're owned by the wizards that they work for."

"But they—"

"And for twenty-four hours a day, every day, a group of house-elves make sure you've got a full stomach, a warm common room, and a clean, comfy bed—"

"How much are the badges?" questioned Fiona, her jaw slightly clenched. She still had a hand hovering over her Herbology homework, and she was scowling at Hermione as if she just wanted her to shut up.

"Two Sickles," Hermione said brightly and lifted up the small tin, shaking it exuberantly.

Fiona, Angelina, and Erin handed over the money hastily. Alicia said she had to get the Sickles from her dormitory, though it was clear she didn't plan on returning. Lee and Stan also, very reluctantly, paid her.

"House-elves, really?" Lara asked as Hermione came over, holding the tin in front of Lara's face. "I didn't realise."

"Neither did I, until this year," sniffed Hermione.

"And they don't get paid?"

"Nothing." An angry sort of look crossed the fourth-year's face. "I can't believe it. Families own them, too, and make them work like… like… it's like they don't matter. They don't even have clothes or anything, because if they're given clothes by their masters, it sets them free."

"That's disgusting. Slavery as a whole should be abolished, both in the Muggle and the wizarding world."

Hermione's brown eyes softened slightly as Lara dug through her bag. "Are you Muggle-born?" she asked quietly.

"Pure-blood, actually." Lara shrugged with a small smile. "But my brother works with creatures and beasts. He's told me about some abuse cases… Anyway, here, have two Galleons. One for me, one for my brother."

"Thanks." Hermione beamed before turning to the twins expectantly.

"Absolutely not," Fred said quickly.

"What? Why?"

"Because the house-elves here are happy," replied George. "They have it a hell of a lot better than some families' house-elves. If you go around doing this, you'll upset them."

"Plus," Fred added bitterly, his voice low, "we don't have anything to give you."

George's eyes also darkened. After sharing a look, the twins bid a quick goodbye to the surrounding group and trudged upstairs, Lee trailing along behind them. Hermione stared after them for a moment with a cross expression, but then she sighed and grabbed her bucket and tin before disappearing up the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

The sixth and seventh-years watched her leave for a moment, and then Stan asked, "Did that just happen?"

"You mean did we just get manipulated by a fourth-year?" questioned Erin. "Yes. Yes, we did."

"Bloody hell," Stan whistled, leaning back in his chair, his goblet of vinegar wine long forgotten. "The Ministry better watch out, huh?"

Thanks for the reviews, favourites and alerts for the last chapter :) Hope you enjoy this one

Oh, and have a great holiday!