A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

"Wake up, Marlene!"

June clambered out of bed blearily. She wasn't very keen on being on Lily's bad side at the moment. She wasn't friends with Evans or McKinnon or even Macdonald for that matter – but Lily had a tendency to assume a level of comfort with everyone. She could scold easily, without thinking.

"We're late," Lily added vehemently, as Marlene stumbled out of bed herself.

"No, Lily, you're late," said Marlene, dragging herself to the toilet. June was already brushing her teeth as Marlene glared at her openly.

"We have class with McGonagall," called Mary. June heard the sound of sheets being dusted off. She washed her face with a scrub.

"McGonagall is not expecting me to be on time," said Marlene. She took out her toothbrush and squeezed the paste bottle with a vengeance. "You done with that, Williams?" she added, as June put her facewash away.

June nodded.

She slipped out of the bathroom to find Lily glaring at the door. "June, put some cold cream," she said quickly.

"Oh. Yes," said June. She wordlessly took the bottle of cold cream that Mary handed her, and smeared if over her face.

"Your skin looks very dry," said Lily, a little apologetic.

Again June nodded. She had often noticed Lily being particularly nice to her, or doing her best to make June less shy – but it was truly a lost cause. It was Lily, specifically, that was the problem. If Lily was anyone even a fraction less intimidating – not half as popular, maybe less smart, or even less beautiful – she would have been successful. She would have found a witty and clever June Williams, fully willing to be friends with Lily Evans. As it was, Lily's inordinate kindness and consideration had never really managed to penetrate June's opaquely shy exterior.

June slung her bag and didn't wait for the rest of them. She didn't like pretending friendship where there was none – she headed downstairs. She spotted the Marauders on her way down and carefully avoided them. She didn't have to try too hard lately – no one really cared about her that much. After everyone had grown out of their thirteen year old phase of being cruel to quiet kids, it had been somewhat easy going for June. And really, she ought to be thankful. She didn't have anything that set her too far apart – she wasn't fat, she wasn't particularly short, she wasn't very particular looking in any way. She wasn't a Slytherin, either. After the first three years of casual bullying and cruelty, nothing had been too terrible.

Sirius Black had been the worst of the lot. The needless teasing and bullying had left her very tongue tied around him.

She hurried downstairs to the Great Hall, settled down in one corner of the table where no one else liked sitting, and pulled out her book to read. She had been indulging herself a little in fiction – reading Mills and Boons of all things. But she'd never take something like that out in the Great Hall. She settled for her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.

She spooned her eggs moodily. Her book was propped against the jug of juice, but she wasn't paying attention to it. It was a paperback copy, which made it hard to prop the thing up on anything. It kept falling. She wished she had more money for a hardback, but she was already running low. The summer jobs had helped, and taking the Knight Bus to Fortescu's had saved her some money. She hadn't bought as many books as she ought to, and whatever money the Ministry gave Muggleborns wasn't enough to cover anything that wasn't second hand.

She didn't need the money. But the lack of it, over the years, had begun to trouble her. It hadn't mattered as much when she was younger and there was less to spend on. And she may not have friends, but she liked going to Hogsmeade. It was honestly lucky she didn't have friends. The lack of money would seriously pinch if she had people to spend it with.

"You heading for class, Williams?"

June looked up. It was Dorcas Meadows, and she seemed supremely unconcerned by the fact that June was struggling to read her book and eat breakfast at the same time.

"Yeah," said June.

"You have McGonagall, don't you?" asked Meadows, eating her toast.

June nodded.

"Oh, good. I was worried it would be the third years. She's always in a bad mood after she has third years, and I have to speak to her about my career plans."

"Good luck," said June.

"I'll need more, but thanks for offering," said Dorcas. "See you later."

June wished she was in seventh year, like Dorcas. She was sort of tired of Hogwarts.

Lately she had been feeling like she kept waiting for her life to happen, and nothing really did. The lack of social life didn't hurt her that much, but she was beginning to suspect that it had something to do with it. Her days were beginning to look too similar.

She shut her book and finished the last of her eggs. She was going to visit Hagrid, she decided. For now, it was time for class. And she wanted a reasonable seat because Professor McGonagall was demanding even on the best days.

June took a shortcut she knew to the transfiguration classroom. Even with the shortcut, the class was somewhat filled up by the time she reached. She took a desk in the inconspicuous middle and settled down, waiting for the classroom to fill up in bits and bobs. She overheard conversations between people who were not paying attention to her. She made a note of some of the secrets being passed around.

Lily Evans was arguing with James Potter again. This time, he really was trying not to rile her up. Lily sometimes did these things out of habit, June thought.

Sirius Black was flirting with the cute girl from Hufflepuff. Evanna something – and Remus was rolling his eyes a little. Only Pettigrew seemed somewhat impressed.

"Hey, can I sit here?" asked Mary Macdonald.

June nodded briefly. A hush fell over when they heard McGonagall approaching.

"Alright, everyone, chapter four in your books," said Professor McGonagall, by way of greeting.

June sighed to herself. She frowned as she felt for the book in her bag. It wasn't that it was missing – it just seemed… different.

Here's the thing: June had bought a second-hand edition. Because the Wizarding world committed to the aesthetic as much as it did, it was a hardback. But she had memorised the feelings of each of her books, and this wasn't a second-hand copy. This looked brand new – somewhat old, but certainly bought for the purposes of this term. It wasn't her book, that much was obvious. June touched the spine, on the lettering which was not faded or old.

"Something the matter, Miss Williams?" barked McGonagall.

June went pink and shook her head. She opened this… this impostor of a book to chapter four. That's when things became really strange for her – there were notes scribbled in the margins. Not notes about transfiguration, like she tended to have. There was a very conspicuous note-passing going on in the margins of this book – black ink had spilt conversations between two friends.

Three friends, she thought to herself. There were three distinct sets of handwritings.

Three tonight, Padfoot?

Course.

Let Wormy know.

She was confused. No one she knew had these names. Obviously, these were nicknames of a sort. She sorted through all the secrets she knew, trying to figure out just who could have nicknames like this.

"What's up?" whispered Mary Macdonald.

"I think I have someone else's book," said June.

"Oh – well, you can return it later. Focus for now."

She was right. June put the handwriting out of her mind – until, of course, she stumbled on the owner of the book wailing that he was about to tear his hear out and gouge his eyeballs if McGonagall didn't stop talking about vanishing things. Then she giggled.


She shuffled her feet and looked out at the setting sun. She knocked sharply on the door. The sound of a giant bed creaking could be heard as Hagrid wrenched the door open.

"June!" said Hagrid happily.

"Hello," she said, rubbing her shoes on the footmat. "How are you?"

"Been okay," said Hagrid. "An' you? Classes alright?"

June wrinkled her nose. She sat down in Hagrid's giant chair. She liked feeling like a small thing inside it – it was the best place to cuddle in. Hagrid grinned at her and poured a cup of tea for her. She smiled back earnestly.

"It's the first week, June," said Hagrid. "Why're you already here?"

"I hate everyone?" she offered.

"You don't hate anyone," he scoffed.

She sighed. "Fine. But I wanted to ask you something –" she pulled out the book that had been on her mind for most of the day. "I know you probably don't know – but, erm – do you know this handwriting?"

Hagrid squinted at the handwriting. "No," he said. "Check the front of the book. Maybe the owner wrote his name."

June flipped to the front of the book. In the spiky, black handwriting, the only thing that was written in the corner of the page was: S.O.B

"Any luck?"

"No," said June, her heart thumping. "None."


It wasn't him, it couldn't be him, please someone say it wasn't him.

She scrambled to her dormitory and tore through her piles and piles of books. There were all the paperbacks she had managed to get her hands on this summer, which she had stacked neatly in the box under her bed. Everything was in place – except.

"What the hell?" she murmured to herself.

She had found her own copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration. There it was, with all the notes in the margins and everything – only none of them were conversations. It was only just stuff McGonagall had said in class.

Someone had a book of hers that was not transfiguration. She pored over her titles, trying to make a tally of all the things she had brought with her from home and all the things she remembered she ought to have.

"Oh, fuck," she said emphatically.

Her Pride and Prejudice was missing.


That's that! I'm doing it, everyone. There's the prologue and the first chapter. If there actually is anyone reading this, please do review!