~*T*~

Amy went to Gryffindor, then Lisa followed, and finally it was Taylor's turn under the hat.

"As I told your wife," a strange, male, voice said, "The headmaster would be so pleased to learn that love really is the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not," Taylor could hear the capital letters, "But I can't tell him, and you should be careful how you do, because it would scare him badly."

"And he is, no, could be, a great threat."

"Yes. Now that you know that, you'd better join your wives in," the voice changed, and Taylor knew everyone could hear, "Gryffindor!"

Gryffindor table broke into cheers, and Taylor skipped over to sit between her wives.

~*i*~

The cat on the desk turned into Professor McGonagall, and Lisa's eyes got wide, "That is fucking awesome."

"Yeah. He never saw the point, unfortunately."

"Guess we have to learn it the hard way," Amy said.

Matchsticks to sewing needles went easily for all of them. Amy was working on a knitting needle, Lisa a copy of Cleopatra's Needle, and Taylor was trying to replicate the Space Needle from memory. She had a feeling it looked more like the CN Tower, but wasn't sure.

The Professor just watched them, pleased to see such enthusiasm for her subject.

"Thirty points to Gryffindor" she said, then turned back to the students who needed help.

~*i*~

Taylor sat in the windowsill, a thick book in her lap, and glared at the pages.

Lisa leaned on her shoulder, and glared, "What the frilly heck," she complained, "This is worse than our history book."

"I'd think it was in code, but I think it's just that dry," Taylor sighed, "I read it once, and decided it was too much work."

"There's got to be a better way, then," Lisa said, "Budge over, let me read it with you."

Taylor braced one foot against the windowframe, and dangled the other out the window. Lisa dragged a chair over, plomped down next to Taylor, and put one foot on the chair and the other over Taylor's leg.

"The wall's two feet thick," Lisa complained, "We should both be able to sit here without feeling like we're gonna fall."

Taylor just wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

~*i*~

Taylor turned to Amy as Professor Quirrell turned back to the blackboard, his stupid purple turban wafting a scent of garlic.

Amy nodded.

Lisa looked between them, then at Quirrell, "Yuck. He's too old, and too big."

"We'd have to get him out of the professor, of course."

"Maybe. Pet rock?"

"We should be able to convince him, we know his passwords, after all."

~*i*~

Amy stared at their history teacher, unmoving, even as the class slowly woke up and filtered out.

Taylor and Lisa waited until the room was empty, then Lisa leaned in and gave Amy a kiss.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Lisa said, when Amy pulled back with a smile.

Amy grinned at her, grabbed Taylor by the collar, and kissed her too. She took a deep breath, slapped her hands on the table, then growled, "This man has been murdering history for three fucking hundred years. It stops. Now."

"I tried," Taylor said, "I admit, I only had a few minutes, but he's protected against the normal exorcisms."

"We'll have to try the abnormal ones, then."

~*i*~

Taylor and Luna crawled into Hermione's bed, since it was closest to the door, and Potions had been very draining. Three pairs of shoes hit the floor in an untidy pile, kicked off one at a time.

Lavender looked at Parvati, and shook her head.

Parvati just gave her a hug, then dug in her trunk for her nightclothes.

~*i*~

"Well," Professor Snape started the meeting, "Potter is not what I expected."

"Oh?"

"He says he's a girl, to start."

"What?" Headmaster Dumbledore asked, "Isn't he in the Gryffindor boy's dorm?"

"I don't know," Professor McGonagall said, "None of the Prefects have mentioned anything."

"None of the Gryffindor girls, or boys, seemed surprised by the statement," Snape added. He shrugged, "Not my problem. He's, She's, Potter's, extremely competent at potions. Not much flair, but quick and accurate. Lovegood has a little more flair, but is a little less precise. Granger needed to check the board more often, but made an adequate boil-removing potion. The rest of them were, as expected, a bunch of dunder-heads."

"P-p-Potter wa-was," Professor Quirrell paused, took a deep breath, and let it out, "Ahead of his p-peers, as wa-wa-," another deep breath, "were Granger and Lovegood."

"They had made sewing needles within the first three minutes of class, while I was still handing out matchsticks, and moved on to different needles."

"They performed the assigned charm as easily as I could, and started to help their classmates. Potter was better at that than the other two, Lovegood got frustrated easily and Granger was stymied by the students who didn't understand her explanations, but she got better as the class progressed."

Talk shifted to the less-exceptional students, and the plight of those who'd lost parents over the summer.

~*i*~

Minerva padded on tabby-feet into her first year girl's dorm, and noticed the pile of shoes by the first bed. She hopped up onto it, smiling at the sight of the three little heads sharing a pillow, cuddled close, fully dressed, not even having shed their robes after dinner.

She stands back up, and notices that a pair of bright green eyes are watching her warily.

"Meah," she said, walking up the bed. The ball of orange fur on the other pillow unrolled, brown eyes blinked at her lazily, then he curled back up again, wrapped his tail over his nose.

Harry reached out, scratched her gently at the point of her jaw, "Good evening, Professor."

"Myah," she said, and hopped down.

~*T*~