A bit late due to a few unexpected mental health issues on my part but on the plus side the next chapter is already half written and should be up within the week.

Big love to the mighty Tenzo51 without whom this story wouldn't have even happened, let alone be anywhere near as good as it is.

Enjoying yourselves yet? I know we are.

I'm not JKR and I don't make any money from this. Which is a bit of a shame.

DtR xx.

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The Excellent Adventure of a Wolf, a Loony and a Very Bored Heroine.

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6. Defensive and Offensive Magic.

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The girls of Hufflepuff House were one again awakened, for the second morning running, with a raucous alarm call from the first year dormitory.

Once the extremely loud bass thump, courtesy of the House of Pain, had started up it was simply impossible for any of them to remain asleep. It even got through the silencing charms that some of the upper years had cast around their beds following yesterdays rude wake-up call. However grumpy the older girls were, the younger years were just as equally amused and excited. Indeed, more than a few of the second years had set their alarms early in the hope that they would be treated to exactly this kind of early morning entertainment.

Tonks sleepily walked into the first year dorm to be confronted by fifteen young witches all 'Jumping Around' and 'getting up, getting up to get down', only to turn around and get the bloody hell out of there before she was dragged into the madness. The Hufflepuff metamorphmagus was thinking that she really needed to invest in some earmuffs before long. And possibly a blindfold as well.

Once her morning dance calisthenics had been completed and she had emerged from the bathroom all freshly scrubbed and attired in her eye-watering 'uniform', Shelley took stock of her new room-mates. The more conscientious among them were already robed and digging out their supplies for the day's lessons while others were sitting cross legged in front of the T.V. watching an episode of K-On and giggling. The one thing that they all had in common was the smiles that made Shelley's heart feel unusually warm and tingly.

Well, all except one of them.

A gloomy looking Artemis was staring so forlornly at her i-pod that Shelley couldn't help offering her assistance. This having friends business was rather annoying sometimes. She sighed and approached her anyway gesturing to the small, muggle, music player in her hands.

"I can make that work you know."

"You can?"

"Sure." Shelley shrugged at the hopeful looking wolf. "It's a fairly simple piece of magic, I just need a set of rune scribers and about twenty minutes."

"I'll be right back."

She would swear that she actually felt the displacement of the air as a white blur shot out of the room and returned less than a minute later with Nymphadora Tonks' rune kit in her hand and a big, pouty expression on her face. Unable to resist, Shelley held out a hand to receive the tool set and got to work on her new friend's much prized music player.

Honestly, she would have done a great deal more for the girl than that. Her usefulness as a powerful enforcer and someone whose personality attracted potential friends and allies like flies made her extremely valuable to her, so taking half an hour before breakfast to make her happy seemed like a good use of her time. Following this theme, Shelley decided to add in a few improvements while she was at it, like voice activated commands and a shared speaker facility.

The absolute joy evident on Arte's face as she played with her newly uprated i-pod over her pancakes, glancing up every few minutes to give her a beaming smile, was almost reward enough. It troubled Shelley that after only two days in the infectious little wolf's company she was thinking like this. It was very unlike her.

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Having already suffered through a day of, what were for her, remedial classes taught by half-wits and oddballs it was no great surprise to Shelley that a ghost was teaching them History of Magic. Although it quickly became apparent that this subject should really be called 'history of uppity, violent goblins and the stupid wizards who upset them'. To most it was boring in the extreme, but not to her.

Unlike almost everyone else in the dusty classroom, however, Shelley was not working on her homework or taking a surreptitious forty winks. She found this class absolutely riveting, very informative and extremely useful.

Gringotts Bank had a monopoly on the banking business in wizarding Britain and possibly the world, although she would have to research that more later on to get a definitive answer. It was only common sense, therefore, that she should learn all that she could about the creatures that kept the financial wealth of the country so tightly in their grasp.

So she paid very close attention and took a veritable mountain of notes, her muggle ball point pen flying across the paper (she still wasn't convinced of the necessity of using quill and parchment for anything but actual assignments) as she scribbled down every single detail. It didn't really matter whether or not they were relevant, she could sort that out later tonight when she organised her notes on her laptop.

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Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was supposed to be the most important and high profile class in the school's curriculum. And yet. It was, without a doubt, the worst class they had suffered through yet.

Their so called 'professor' had spent an hour and a half muttering, stuttering and stumbling through the introductory material while managing to somehow avoid teaching them anything of value. He was utterly useless. They had learned nothing interesting or informative at all apart from the fact that Quirrell was an intensely annoying individual who absolutely reeked of garlic.

This was particularly bad news for Artemis since her sense of smell was much more highly developed and sensitive than the other young witches and wizards in the room. It was so bad for her that her eyes were watering pretty much constantly.

Not that she was the only disgruntled one in this class. There was, in fact, a great deal of huffing and low, unimpressed muttering going on in the DADA classroom and not all of it from the students in blue and bronze. The Hufflepuffs may not be the most academic of Houses but they were famed for their work ethic and their perseverance. Such shoddy teaching from an obviously sub-par professor was anathema to them as much as it was to the scholarly Ravenclaws.

It was even more so for Shelley Potter who had been looking forward to this class for ages only to be left cold by her professor's total ineptitude and his ability to make this, potentially most interesting of subjects, so interminably bloody dull. It made her unspeakably furious. Furious enough that she had already broken three of her pencils on her desk and had that old, familiar, eye twitch starting. This was not good news for anybody who happened to be in her immediate vicinity as it was usually the prelude to an outbreak of her prodigious and violent temper erupting.

It didn't help her mood that every time the stuttering idiot that was supposed to be teaching them turned his back on the class a sharp pain shot through her skull from just behind her famous scar. Coincidence? Definitely not.

Shelley didn't believe in coincidence. She was a scientist. When a cause and effect was observed there must be a reason for it and like any good scientist she was determined to find that reason out.

His clothing choices had also caught her attention.

Why was a clearly fourth or fifth generation British wizard even wearing a turban? Even for the mostly brain dead and illogical wizards it was beyond nuts. True Shelley had her own piece of wonderfully insane headwear but she still wore it for a very good reason. To hide her scar. This set her to wondering what precisely the terrible professor was hiding away beneath his own fabulously stylish turban and she began to put her fearsome mind to the task of finding out.

Shelley brightened somewhat at the thought that what was clearly needed here was some ... experimentation. Yay!

Everyone noticed her unreasonably chipper mood that persisted for the rest of that day and right through to bedtime, despite the dreary drudgery of, what would quickly become known as, the worst day of their school week this year. If any of them felt the need to comment on her uncharacteristically cheerful demeanour, however, they wisely managed to suppress doing so.

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As good as she had been in all of her classes to date, when her friends and peers saw what she was capable of on Wednesday morning it made all of her previous exploits pale in comparison. Something very special awoke in Shelley after seeing what 'cute professor kitty' could do with her mastery of this branch of magic and she was enthralled. As much by it's difficulty and complexity as with the infinite possibilities, only restrained by the breadth of her imagination, that it offered.

Shelley Potter really shone in Transfiguration.

Whether it was her genes from her father, who had been particularly good in the subject, or her natural talent and genius, Minerva McGonagall wouldn't like to have hazarded a guess. Her prowess was clear and obvious though. As was her power.

While the other students were still struggling to get their matchsticks to change colour, the 'girl-who-lived' had already produced a dozen perfect needles and was currently engaged in the task of enlarging them. Once this was achieved, she then waved her wand in a complex pattern and stitched them together to make a couple of five foot tall stick figures.

Which she then proceeded to animate, further enhancing her reputation in her deputy headmistress' eyes.

Shelley leaned over Sally and whispered in Artemis' ear that caused the wolf to grin hugely as she brought out a small rectangular device from her robe pocket, fiddled with it for a moment and then set it on her desk. Minerva McGonagall watched in awe as her most 'special' student smiled (very creepily) and pointed her twisted, ancient wand at the human sized constructs muttering something unintelligible under her breath. She would have normally taken House points for such blatant disruption but she really wanted to see what the girl would do next.

It was spectacular and brilliant.

In a life spanning almost eighty years, all of which she had been surrounded by magic, the Transfiguration professor had never seen anything quite like what happened next. And certainly never in a classroom. Especially not in her classroom. A student was dancing (rather skillfully) on her desk with two transfigured, animated constructs for the amusement of the class.

To her intense irritation and bemusement, the usually stern, utterly irascible deputy headmistress and Transfiguration Mistress of Hogwarts found herself tapping her feet and nodding her head along with the noisy, soul-funk, anthem that blasted from Artemis' i-pod. What was worse was that it was taking every ounce of her considerable willpower to not throw her arms around like several of her students were now doing. What was even worse than that was that she was enjoying every second of this ridiculous spectacle.

Artemis Amarok was honking with laughter and thumping her desk in delight at the sight before her. If there was anyone who knew how to 'Express Yourself' in their own crazily unique style it was her new friend Shelley Potter. By the Great Wolf that girl was nuts. And she loved her for it.

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One of the highlights of the Hufflepuffs' first week at Hogwarts occurred on the practice field where all first years were taught the basics of flying by the scary looking Madam Hooch. Inevitably it was initiated by their most brilliant dorm-mate and her protective, white haired friend. Which was strange since it started out pretty poorly.

This was one of the things that Shelley hadn't managed to practice over the summer and, as such, she was actually feeling rather nervous about it. Of course, all that nervous tension drained away the instant that her broom slapped, quivering into her outstretched hand at her falsely confident 'up' command.

She shared a manic grin with Arte' who had, likewise, managed to bring broom to hand in a similarly spectacular manner. These grins remained in place and even grew wider as they mounted their brooms and moved into a hover a few feet above the grass. This was awesome. More so because, despite their lack of experience, the two Badgers looked to be rather good at it.

Poor old Neville wasn't doing quite as well as the rest of them though, and just before either Shelley or Madame Hooch could get to him to offer some helpful and timely advice his broom shot ten feet in the air before turning over and dumping him off of it. The Longbottom heir landed awkwardly on his outstretched arm with a terrified whimper and a very loud and nasty 'crack'.

Even through the pain and embarrassment, however, Neville Longbottom was learning one of the major benefits to being a member of Hufflepuff House. With his head now in the enviable position of being in the very nice smelling Megan Jones' lap, he looked in astonishment at all of the yellow robed witches concerned faces as they surrounded him. He was being stroked and smoothed and cried over as he lay there and honestly, the excrutiating amount of pain he was in was almost worth it just to experience this.

Unfortunately Madam Hooch was less enthusiastic about their attentions and his euphoria died away to be replaced, once more, with agony as the girls were shoo-ed off and he was peeled from Megan's soothing presence.

There were a few sniggers from the Ravenclaw boys as they watched their injured House-mate being levitated into the castle and presumably towards the infirmary, but these stopped pretty bloody quickly. It wasn't Morag McDougal's 'shut up you morons' comment that did it though, but the cold, dead eyed stare and the menacing snarling growl from directed at them from Shelley and Artemis.

Once the appropriate apologies were given and grudgingly accepted, there was a lot of awkward silence and shuffling of feet from the assembled first years. Nobody was really sure what they were supposed to do now while they waited for their instructor's return.

Shelley's miniscule tolerance for standing around and doing nothing was exhausted within about thirty seconds after the hawk-eyed woman and her whimpering charge were through the door to the castle and out of sight. Then, with a quick glance around her to check for any teachers and/or prefects that could possibly stop her she ran to her broom, plucking it off the ground and leapt on as it started to rise. She pulled a couple of low level practice laps around the perimeter of the field then ducked down onto the worn shaft and began to gain some altitude.

She was really flying.

Flying.

Where had this been all her life and just how had she survived without it. The feelings that coursed through Shelley's body as she encouraged the dilapidated broomstick ever higher and ever faster were entirely new and entirely brilliant. It was like the first time that she had danced along to her pop idol the wondrous Lady Gaga, or seeing that first jaw dropping episode of Strawberry Panic. Even the first time she used magic, that addictive rush that raced through her veins as her wand accessed her core and let the magic flow, even that didn't beat the feeling of flying.

The freedom of being up here away from the world was utterly intoxicating. As was the adrenaline rush. It was a pretty close run thing but at this particular moment broomsticks were just beating out wands.

This was what she was born to do.

She eventually topped out at the level of the tallest tower at Hogwarts, worrying slightly about tripping any wards that might be higher up and spoiling her fun. She needn't have been concerned but she didn't know this yet and so Shelley dropped the nose of her broom and aimed it at the ant-like figures waving at her from the ground. As her speed increased and the distance between them decreased dramatically in the space of mere seconds, her classmates waving stopped being good natured and started to become frantic as they realised that she wasn't going to slow down. At all.

Just before ploughing into the pitch and totally on instinct, Shelley dragged upwards hard on the broom, standing it up to almost the vertical before twisting it around and levelling out again. She heaved herself up, flipping her legs across the shaft and landing lightly to sit side saddle, facing her astonished friends with her arms crossed and winked at them.

At least three of the young witches at whom this was directed blushed an impressive shade of red and tried to look anywhere but at her yellow and black, stocking clad legs being revealed by her gently flapping skirt. This meant that they didn't see her remove her scarf and transfigure it into a soccer ball that she then starting spinning on her index finger with a shit eating grin on her face. She brought their attention to it soon enough though by bouncing it off the little wolf's white haired head and straight back into her own hands.

"Are you in?"

Her insane new friend waggled her eyebrows at Artemis tossing the ball between her hands with a ridiculously large smile on her face and followed it up with a challenging tilt of her chin.

It was a game of chase.

On brooms.

Fifty feet up in the air.

Of course she was in.

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Professor Pomona Sprout emerged from the castle and onto the practice field in a rare fever, just managing to slow her awkward jogging as she burst through the large door and out into the late afternoon sunlight. Only to have to duck swiftly and 'hit the deck' as two howling lunatics on broomsticks hurtled mere inches above her lowered head and shot off into the distance again.

They were clearly so consumed by their game that they hadn't even noticed her presence.

She watched her two young Badgers pelt across the sky, dipping and weaving in tight turns and break-neck dives, attempting to wrestle the highly prized ball from each other's grasp and her intentions towards them underwent a sudden shift. Pomona had originally raced out here having spotted the two little idiots horsing around, unsupervised on brooms to drag them off to her office and read them the riot act for their stupidity. A few minutes of closer observation of their natural skill and talent in the air, however, had her thinking along different lines entirely

Not that she was going to let them know that until the last possible moment, of course. Finally ready she pulled her wand and fired off some impressive red sparks into their path to catch the attention of her wayward, lunatic, little 'Puffs and yelled at the top of her voice.

"Shelley Potter! Artemis Amarok! Come here this instant."

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The two small witches followed their Head of House through the rough corridors of the castle still grinning and snickering at each other despite the serious amount of trouble that they were so clearly in. The only wrinkle in their day, as far as they were concerned, was that their fun game had been ended before an outright winner could be declared. As competitive as they were, five 'snatches' each was not exactly a desirable result for either of them and there was a great deal of good natured shoulder bumping and whispered arguing going on.

So it was that they arrived at their destination without really paying any attention to where they actually were. Although when they did realise it, they sobered quite quickly. It was deputy headmistress McGonagall's classroom. Well that couldn't be good.

"Professor McGonagall, would you mind terribly if I were to borrow Miss Gently for a moment?"

Minerva didn't like her classes being disrupted and would have indeed objected had she not caught sight of a wildly bobbing sunflower atop a very recognisable, crooked top hat peeking around her friend and colleague's plump figure. If the insane and dangerous Miss Potter was involved it would probably be better to just accept the interruption with good grace and let it play out. She was fairly sure that whatever was going on wouldn't go anywhere near as smoothly as Pomona intended.

Which should be fun to watch.

She positioned herself in the doorway to do precisely that.

"Miss Gently, I think that I may have a solution to your chaser problem."

Word had gotten around the Badgers sett rather quickly about just how terrifyingly powerful, sneaky and nasty minded their new first year witches were and Demetia Gently knew better than to scoff at this. She, rather wisely, kept a tight rein on her mouth, preventing it from running off at the absurdity of potentially fielding two eleven year olds on a school quidditch team and settled on adopting a slightly surprised expression instead.

Shelley and Artemis were also silent but for an entirely different reason. They were just stunned that they weren't going to be getting in trouble for their impromptu bout of unsupervised stunt flying. Far from it, it seemed. It looked as if they were actually getting rewarded for it.

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Their 'punishment' was the talk of the school at lunchtime. Although no-one who wasn't part of their inner circle was stupid enough to let them hear it. Shelley's reputation for being incredibly gifted at magic and her mental instability, along with Artemis' rumoured furry little problem kept the whispering well below their hearing range. Well, below Shelley's anyway. Artemis heard every word and it only made her grin wider. Something that a seriously miffed Susan Bones was determined to wipe off of her face.

"So you're not getting expelled then?"

"Nah."

"Detention?"

"Nope." Artemis smiled rather smugly as she popped the 'p' in her second one word reply.

"What then?"

"Quidditch."

"Please don't tell me they put you on the team. How's that fair?"

"Oh come on Sue, even you have to admit that they were bloody brilliant."

She did and they were. Not that she would ever admit it to the two reckless, impulsive, grinning lunatics opposite her. Or the dedicated band of yellow robed quidditch groupies that they had since attracted with their flying skill and the promise of something that Hufflepuff House hadn't had for a very long time. A potentially winning team.

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All the breathless fun and excitement of finally being able to practice magic, new classes, new frends and new activities like flying couldn't last forever, of course. By the time that her final class on Friday was over, it was quite clear to Shelley that there were some fairly serious, institutional problems here at Hogwarts.

One of these was the apathy and indifference with which the issue of bullying was met by most of the students, staff and, most worryingly, the headmaster.

Now Shelley Potter hadn't exactly been an angel in her brief life to date and, indeed, she had not been above bullying others herself to get what she wanted. However, she had a reputation in the magical world, among the light as a beacon of purity and goodness and among her school House as a proud Badger who would fight tooth and nail to protect them. She understood her reputation and the power that it granted her and she knew what was expected of her.

A line in the sand had to be drawn. A lesson had to be taught. An example had to be made.

Helpfully, on the first morning of their first weekend at their new school, a group of misguided fifth year Slytherins provided her with an opportunity to do all three.

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Every great hero, or in this case heroine, needs an audience for their great deeds of derring do it was with a good amount of frustration that Shelley noticed how empty this corridor was where Cedric Diggory was getting a beating. She supposed that it was quite fortuitous after all though, since she really didn't want to get expelled for what she was about to do. Besides, this being a school, everybody was sure to know the truth, or at least her version of it dispersed via the ever efficient rumour mill, before breakfast tomorrow.

It was much better to be whispered about in fearful tones as the rumoured assailant than to be punished for being the proven one. No matter what the provocation.

Their House-mate, Cedric Diggory was getting a serious beating, both magical and physical. His rumoured prowess as a top class quidditch seeker had had the unfortunate effect of drawing the attention of some of the more violently rabid opposition fans. Seeing the green and silver trimmings on their uniforms just made Shelley's smile all the wider. Perfect. The mostly pureblood Slytherins were the worst bullies in the whole school and it would make the message that she was about to deliver all the more telling.

Artemis saw that smile and knew that there was going to be trouble. It was the kind of smile that certain people gave when they sniffed the promise of being able to dish out some serious violence. She sighed quietly while rolling her shoulders and cracking her joints in preparation for the coming battle, thinking that she really should have picked another carriage to ride on the train.

The large Slytherin boy leading this assault on the talented Hufflepuff seeker looked the four, yellow clad first years up and down before chuckling to himself. This turned out to be a very big mistake on his part.

Shelley let loose with a curse straight out of her Dark Arts book that she had been practising all summer on Dudley's dartboard (requiring her to purchase a job lot of new ones to replace those that she destroyed as well as some plaster to repair the wall behind it) so her proficiency and accuracy with it were excellent. She used the small version of her wand-staff to hit him in the knee with the dark purple, piercing hex which flew straight and true, punching a ragged hole right through the joint.

His screams were most satisfactory as was the impressive amount of blood and bone that sprayed out from the new wound. There was a brief moment of silence as everybody in the corridor took a few seconds to come to grips with the fact that the 'girl-who-lived' had just deliberately maimed someone before ...

"Bitch!"

Shelley just grinned, gave him a jaunty salute and flipped her focus to it's staff form before putting him out for the count with a well placed and ever so slightly over-powered stupefy.

His friends finally shook themselves out of their stupor at this and began their attack in earnest. As the hexes splashed against Susan Bones swiftly cast protego (her Aunt Amelia had insisted that she learned this very useful spell at an early age) Artemis felt an almost tangible crack as her patience snapped. Nobody attacked her friends. Nobody attacked her mate. Nobody attacked her pack. Shelley may be amused by the whole situation but all Artemis felt was rage.

The white haired girl exploded through the shield charm, morphing into her wolf form as she went and leapt at the nearest moron, knocking him to the floor, causing him to hit his head and lose his wand. She half changed back and used her momentum off the wall to bounce back and deliver a rather substantial punch, claws and all, to her next target's kidneys before having to dodge out of the way of an incoming curse.

"No!"

Hannah, seeing an attack on 'her' wolf, finally pulled her wand and hit him with a stinging hex to the groin, following it up with a wild, haymaker to the nose of the now doubled up young man. It wasn't a terribly hard or a terribly accurate swing and he knocked the blonde's feet from under her, struggling upright to in preparation to stomp on the little witch, only to be felled by an utterly livid Susan Bones. Or more specifically by her boot to his face.

The last two Slytherin thugs, after being stunned by the unexpectedness and ferocity of the tiny Puffs' attack, were now rather wary and much more prepared for them. The first one to try his luck though, soon found himself desperately attempting to hold off an enraged girl with wolf like features and very sharp teeth. He didn't manage it for long since Hannah and Susan fired off some well aimed stinging hexes at his biceps, causing them to buckle and allowing the wolf to close with him.

Half grinning, half snarling Artemis sank her claws into the boy's shoulders bringing a yelp of pain which was swiftly silenced as she delivered a devastating head butt to his face with the dense bone of her forehead. He dropped to the floor, not quite unconscious, but not far from it.

Fear, at last overcoming his Slytherin pride, (better a live snake than a dead lion) the last, horrified thug turned to run.

Not that he got very far.

Shelley halted him in his tracks with a wave of her staff, wrapping him in thick, black, conjured ropes, spun him around and brought him back down the corridor. He was steered past his last remaining conscious colleague, who was currently being pummeled by the three other small witches, and face to face with the seriously creepy and seriously powerful 'girl-who-lived.'

Who, once he was within range of her, took the offered opportunity to disabuse him of the notion that she was in any way a 'light' witch. Putting a finger to her lips and narrowing her eyes, Shelley thought about the best way to make sure that these idiots never messed with her House-mates ever again. Having already clearly demonstrated her magical prowess she decided to end today's lesson with a healthy dose of good, old fashioned physical violence.

The large buckled, black, boot, propelled with an incredible amount of force caught him right in the un-mentionables and he fell to his knees gasping for breath. Shelley then stepped back, took careful aim, and swung her staff like a baseball bat hitting the unfortunate boy square in the side of his head and dropping him to the floor with the rest of his comrades.

The four witches picked their way daintily through the half dozen bleeding, groaning and semi-conscious older boys to retrieve their grateful House-mate and continue on their original path to their common room.

Cedric was not in a good way. And actually neither were Susan or Hannah. Both of the girls were nursing bloodied knuckles and probably had a few broken fingers. She really needed to teach them how to throw a punch without injuring themselves since this was very likely not the last time they were going to get into a scrape like this. It was just a shame that Dudley wasn't here to give them some lessons as he really was turning into quite the talented boxer since joining the gym at his own school.

Two more names had just been added to her list of visitors to Number Four Privet Drive this Christmas.

Luckily for the group by the time they reached the Badger's sett it was almost empty so nobody much saw them arriving looking like they had just been in a fight with a grizzly bear. And those who did see it were either part of Shelley's Marauders or were intelligent enough to know not to talk. To anyone. Ever.

"How can we help?"

The two Sallys had appeared instantly to offer their services as soon as Shelley and Artemis had got their injured settled on to a couple of couches near the fire.

"Go and find that seventh year Nymptawhatsit Tonks and tell her I need a favour. If she can't do healing charms then tell her to bring somebody that can. Somebody discrete obviously."

"What about looking for the people that attacked you?"

"Oh trust me Sally, they got off a lot worse than this." The two blondes shivered at Shelley's mirthless chuckle. "Besides we were the ones who attacked them."

As her dorm-mates hurried off to carry out her instructions she winked at Susan and received a small grin in return.

They were both feeling rather good about doling out a bit of 'rough justice' and it wasn't like they were going to get in trouble for it. Tonks would get them all healed up and looking normal in no time at all and provide them with any necessary alibis. Not that they expected to have to use them.

If the boys did press the matter of their assault they would have had to explain why they were beating on poor old Cedric in the first place. Besides, there was no way in Hell that six upper year Slytherins were actually going to admit to getting their asses handed to them by a bunch of first year Hufflepuff witches. And without the statements of the 'injured' parties there was no proof. It was the perfect crime.

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A mere two hours later their Head of House strode into the common room where the girls were now working on their homework and listening to Artemis' 'Super Sounds of the Seventies' playlist. For the second time in their first week she was having to call out some of her first years for a possible disciplinary matter and she was less than happy about it. Their supposedly innocent little faces didn't fool her for a minute.

"Miss Potter, Miss Amarok, Miss Abbott, Miss Bones. Come with me please the Headmaster wants to see you."

Ah. So it appeared that the rumours had spread faster than she had anticipated. It didn't matter much but Shelley still filed the information away for future reference in her impressive mental library. Anyway, even if the little crybabies had actually talked, they still had their perfect health and their unshakeable alibis. She wasn't concerned. It was expected and she had all of their answers ready.

"Oh good, I needed to talk to him about the terrible state of the instruction that we are supposedly receiving in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts anyway. Just let me grab my notes and I'll be right with you professor."

That stopped Pomona Sprout dead in her tracks.

If she had heard that correctly it seemed that young Miss Potter was more concerned about taking her headmaster, the venerable and (generally) much admired Albus Dumbledore, to task over his running of the school than anything she might have done wrong. Oh who was she kidding. Of course they had done something wrong. Anybody with half a brain could see that these girls were an absolute menace to those who stood in their way.

Still, they were her menaces (and immensely fun ones at that) and she would stand by them to the bitter end until it was proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were in the wrong. She thought that if the headmaster imagined that they were going to fold and confess all of their crimes with a single look at his twinkling eyes then he was deluding himself. Shelley Potter and her band of young hooligans were much more than a bunch of pretty 'Puffs. There was genuine steel behind their silky skin and she was looking forward to the old man getting a taste of it.

Pomona overheard the girls soft singing as she marched them all to the headmaster's office and she couldn't quite help joining in, humming along. Very quietly so that they wouldn't hear her but loud enough to make her smirk at their amusing lyrics.

"We are the toughs, the Hufflepuffs.

Defenders of anarchy."

Okay so now she was really looking forward to seeing her little Badgers in action. The bearded wonder and his greasy dungeon bat, who was just bound to be there, weren't going to know what hit them. These devious little monsters were going to tear them apart. She had never been more proud to call herself a Hufflepuff.

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Reviews are our cookies and you wouldn't want us starve now would you. Seriously though the feedback would be very helpful on this one guys so do let us know how we're doing with it, and I promise that I will try and answer all of your questions. Of which I am sure there will be many.

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DtR xx.