The Great Hall.

I have a problem with my peers, and that problem is that I just do not seem to get along with most of them. Camilla, Lucille, even sometimes Tamara, they're alright (they are actually fabulous sometimes, and I do love them, promise, even if I have a bad way of showing it). The rest of the girls in my year however, well, I think can rot. They can die. And I would actually prefer it if they did.

Or at least shut the fuck up once in a while so I can get some peace and quiet.

Most children, I have found, are products of neglectful parents. My mum certainly never let me run around throwing bits of demolished Wizard Chess pieces at my mates. Nor did she allow me free reign with my wand; even after I turned eleven and was out of her reach. Genuine fear of her wrath has always held sway over my baser desires. But students these days…they have no self-control. These people are fifteen and sixteen years old for Merlin's sake. They should not be behaving like heathens. But they are. As a prefect, I have a ready mind to start throwing some spells.

"Ah, got you now, you sneaky thing! How's it feel to be the one hit in the nose this time, huh? Huh?"

I came back from Dinner, and this is what started happening. The dessert gave everyone a massive sugar high and people are literally jumping around and smashing things. Not just chess pieces either, but other peoples' heads.

#1: There goes the normally very staid Quirinus Quirrel, hopping his way across Patrick Carrington's neck.

#2: In another corner, we (note use of The "Royal we") have Heathcote Barbary trying to fly his broom around the room. Only the ceiling's not high enough for that, Heathcote, you are going to crack the top of your head…

This kind of behavior smacks of Sirius Black's influence. Suspicious, I waved a diagnostic spell. "Comperiō!" The entirety of Hogwarts was most likely drugged with some type of Happy Potion or Euphoria Elixir and it'll turn into a stupid mess because in a minute, I'll have to alert Flitwick, who will alert Dumbledore, who will then lightly reprimand Black with a swat on the bum or some sort of therapist session involving lemon drops and Calming Draughts—which we all know isn't really a reprimand at all.

"Evelyn ! That is a Restricted Section spell!"

"Oh, hush, you great marmee!"

"This is a common occurrence! Every year! Just wait it out." Despite evidence to the nefarious goings-on, Lucille seems to disagree that harsher measures are indeed needed.

Camilla is on my side at least. Huddling in the corner, avoiding falling plaster, she obviously finds it odd that every Ravenclaw in our Common Room—except for the ones who had too much to talk about to eat much of their dinner—has suddenly and inexplicably turned feral.

Tamara, unsurprisingly, is uncertain and does not know whom to believe.

Lucille is just embarrassed that on the day she received a note from her Future Husband, said Future Husband screwed her over by pulling a prank with his Stupid Bastard Friends. She does not want to admit that she reeled in a dead fish this time. And who would, really? Funnily enough, Remus Lupin's face resembles that of a fish skewered on a hook, so my comparison is not far off. I'm sure their children will be half-fish-half-man and be shunned by proper society so Lucille's well rid of him now.

I spent the next two minutes trying to convince myself boys my age were inconsequential.

So: getting back to what I was talking about when I was going on about my peers:

I will probably, some where down the line once I get older, come up with a different opinion, but for now suffice to say that I think being a teenager is the most awful time of any person's life whether that person be female or male. Especially being a young teenager. They are all full of piss and vinegar and smell like poo and never bathe and are rotten as week-old socks. They are mean to everyone. As you have guessed, I have a sibling who is young and he is the Most Horrendous Thing On This Planet.

If I have not mentioned my brother before, his name is Apollon, and he really does not care that I am a Prefect. He is glaring at me right now because I have stopped him from causing any more damage to his person by tying him up.

The occasion of Apollon glaring at me isn't really an occasion at all, however. In fact, it is downright commonplace.

Apollon always glares at me.

I believe Polly was born like this.

The Story goes that he came out of our mother's womb with a sneer on his face, ordering the Mediwife to cut the damn cord already so he could breathe on his own. Over the years, Polly has only grown more Unnatural. Added to His Unnaturalness, Apollon has turned into an Unbelievably Arrogant Human; which makes him a person I just cannot stand to be around (arrogance being a trait I will not condone in anybody aside from me…oh how the hypocrites do talk, Evelyn!)

Cue another example to the terror that is Polly: late last Sunday evening, while Camilla and I were holed up in our dorm room, quizzing each other on Charms for our exam this morning, some strange girl barges in our room, all supposed feminine fury in her night robe, slippers, and streaming golden hair, demanding that I pay Polly a weekly stipend for having the privilege of living with him! Polly apparently paid this girl to perform the service, and her fury was therefore genuine for it was tinged with desperation to get her cut of the money.

My response to the girl of course was "I do not live with my brother, I live with my fellow sixth-year dorm mates, and even though I know it is a hard concept to grasp, that girls live independent lives from their counterparts, could you please still vacate the premises so my friend I could get back to our work?"

Polly's Hireling took offense to this, whipping out her wand and threatening my beloved midnight blue bed hangings with a Singeing if I did not comply right away and pay up right now—this night apparently being the weekly stipend starter.

Why Polly had told this girl to do such a thing is, sadly, not beyond my understanding. I know he wants to purchase the new treatise on Central Anatolian Magical-Muggle Relations During the Iron Age and is out of pocket money at the moment (I understand his desire perfectly as I want that book as well) and felt the only way he could achieve this end was to Infect Young Girls With His Hysteria.

The very fact that Polly's Hireling knew the incantation for Singeing is what is so deplorable. I was fully tempted to call the girl out on her bluff, but knew in the end, it was possible that Polly had actually taught her the charm. I taught it to Polly last year, thinking it would be great fun to get his hopes up when he found out that due to his small magical core, he unable to produce more than a few angry sparks. But woe, as Nature would have it, Polly prevailed and I Lost (and he is now fully driving home the fact that he is an Obvious Child Prodigy while I am only slightly above mediocre in my spells).

Eventually, Polly's Girl left the room, after I very threateningly arose from my perch on my bed and stalked her to the door with my wand at her throat, snarling something along the lines of, "You will not sleep, you will not be able to eat, for knowing that I will somehow destroy you, pitiful peon!"

I thought my snarls were very effective, but Camilla doesn't approve of my handling of the situation. She has told me countless times in the past how she feels I could be a bit nicer to children in general and Polly in particular, but she doesn't understand that you need to employ a firm hand with the young devils. See how they try to walk all over me even with liberal use of a lariat? They need to demonstrate proper cow-towing before I'll relinquish my ferocity. Camilla maintains, however, that Polly is going through a tough time right now what with being shorter than all the females in his class and discovering girls are not Diseased Rodents after all, and what he needs is a good ear and a shoulder to lean on, not whatever it is I delight in doling out.

I disagree very much.

Apollon Antonius did not even have The Temerity to try and talk to me about His Money Situation himself, for one—he had to hire out for it. And two, Camilla does not understand anything, because she does not have a younger sibling of her own to mold and protect, and is in fact an only child. Also, she is no longer a Prefect. Leave lions to the lion-tamers and falcons to the falconers, I say.

Hmmm. Perhaps this is why Camilla is always trying to find the good in people?

Because she just doesn't quite realize yet that it is not there?

For the life of me, I have never understood how she could carry on a conversation with Alexander Riktus.

Soon I think, Camilla, and all my friends alike, will find out that every single boy is evil. They will find out—and I will be there to console, because it is what I will have to do in a situation like that.

(Edit: Straight from The Source, it turns out I was right, and Camilla never really had any Proper Conversation with Alexander Riktus in the two years that they went out. Guess as to what they spent their free time doing!)

Now it is the day after The Night of Great Excitement, and everyone is settling in to their new routines. All morning, people have been trudging slowly into The Great Hall looking hung-over and dizzy-eyed. I am actually quite smug.

I must make a note to myself to watch Sirius Black at The Gryffindor Table from now on before I touch my food so I remain my smug, superior way. If any Stuff Is About To Go Down, I want to be able to recognize its happening before it happens.

Only way to do that is to stare at Black. Really, that is the only reason I am looking at him.

The Charms Classroom.

"Just a warning," Lucille said, breaking me out of my thoughts. It was late into the afternoon, almost evening really, and she and I had decided to stay behind in The Charms Classroom to work on some Extra Credit for Professor Flitwick.

(Edit: I should note here to readers that Staying After was Lucille's idea, as I would never voluntarily work harder in a class I can get an Outstanding in without studying; but Lucille physically made me)

"Yes?"

"Evans is coming this way."

"Oh, really?" I slipped my journal into my pack nonchalantly—nonchalantly, because anything more hurried would get Evans's attention on my bag like the sweet scent on piss (she's Curious like that)—and turned around.

Lily Evans. I know I have not told you this before, but she is pretty much my closet-nemesis when it comes to School Matters. She's a year older and Head Girl and a Gryffindor and has perfect red hair and fairy skin, and also has what seems a very large Animosity towards James Potter—the second biggest berk to every grace the halls of Hogwarts. All these things (the last one especially) combined place her somewhere in the realm of Annoying-Female-Who-I-Just-Can't-Help-But-Like-Sometimes, and so I tolerate her. "What does she want, do you think?" Due to Sunday and last night's debacles, I was secretly horrified that our Head Girl would want to seek me out at all.

"Probably to talk to you about some Prefect thing," Lucy suggested.

"Hmm," I murmured, a second before Evans joined our tiny group in the Charms classroom.

According to Lucille's Muggle watch, Dinner would be starting in ten minutes, so Lily Evans had better not intend to give me a lecture about last night. No Siree! How the Head Girl could find out so quickly that I tied five twelve-year-olds and two seventeen-year-olds together, I do not know, but Magic can be mysterious like that sometimes. "Hello, Lily," I greeted amiably.

"Evelyn," she said, nodding at me—all proper Head Girl decorum. "Lucille. May I talk with you for a second, Evelyn?"

"Is it important?"

Lily Evans's red brows puckered. "Yes, of course! I won't take up much of your time. Only I have a favor to ask."

"Alright," I said, perfectly amenable, now that I knew that the (allegedly) smartest witch in Hogwarts wanted a boon. "We'll go over by the window, how's that?"

Evans smiled. "Great."

"So?" I said, leaning against the sill, affecting poise and snobbishness.

"So…right!" Evans cleared her throat. "I have a friend…actually this is more in the realms of me being a Concerned Student."

"Go on," I said.

"Right, well, Sirius Black, you know him, right?"

My breath went rank. "No."

Evans blinked, surprised. "I'm sorry, you don't know him?" I could hear her exact thoughts as she thought them: How could this be? How you not know Sirius Black?

"No, I do know him," I told her. "What I meant was: no, I won't do it. Whatever it is."

"But you haven't even heard my offer yet," Evans protested.

"If it involves that…Lothario," I began, only to be interrupted.

"But he's not as bad as that!" said Evans. "I promise! I mean, yes, he does have a dreadful reputation, but it's not like I am asking you to date him!"

I snorted. "Fool wishes!"

Evans went on, "If anything, I am asking you to take away from the time he would spend dating to tutor him!"

"Does he know you're asking me?" I said, wondering where all this was coming from. I also doubted Evans really believed "He's not as bad as that!" If only for the Simple Reason that—yes, you've guessed it!—Sirius Black is as bad as that. Worse.

Worser than Worse.

He is literally the Grinch.

"No, he doesn't," Evans admitted, and for some horrible reason—even though I tried to control it—this made me deflate a little on the inside. "But he needs a tutor," Evans said, "he really, really does!"

"Hypothetically," I said, periodically glancing over at Lucille making faces behind Evans's back, "what would I be tutoring him in? I heard he's pretty smart anyway. What does he need mefor? I'm not even in his year."

"But you're smart," Evans said promptly. "Especially in History of Magic, which he's just awful at."

"But that class is just studying," I answered. "That has nothing at all to do with skill. Sounds to me like he's just a lazy arse who doesn't want to try."

"All of that's right," Evans said, "but I know you, Evelyn. I know you can somehow make it interesting for him. You love history. I've seen the books you carry around. You're always writing in that journal of yours."

Feeling suddenly overcome and paranoid, I snapped back like a cornered turtle. "I am not giving it to you!" Why did everyone want my journal these days? All of last year, that's all I heard. Everyone wanted to either read it, or they wanted me to stop writing in it. Everyone! Everyone. "I am sick of people asking me that," I said. "No, I will not push it on a publisher. No, I will not give it to Dumbled—."

"That's not what I meant!" said Evans, ending my tirade. "I was just trying to make a point on how you're more literature-minded than the average person your age. How that's a good thing. Especially if you're going to be encouraging Sirius to read more!"

I said absolutely nothing for a couple moments.

Over Evans's head, Lucy was now giving me questioning looks.

What is wrong? Do I need to come over there and beat her?

Lucille had an Annoyance with The Head-Girl as well; however, it wasn't genuine, and had to do with them owning the same pair of pink Gladrags' boots.

I shook my head. "I need some time to talk it over with my friends," I said, making sure Lucille overheard me.

"What? Why?"

"Well, I can't make decisions for myself, obviously. I need their guiding light to…" I put up my hands. "Light my way!"

"Are you serious?"

"Partially. As much fun as it'd be, getting insulted and molested by Black, I think I still need to get someone else's opinion before I let him near me." At Evans's surprise I added, "For the greater good, you understand, Lily."

"But Sirius won't molest you!" she said. "On the contrary! He—."

My lips quirked. "Oh, so you think I'm not molestation-worthy? Lily, that's not very nice."

"That's not what I meant!" Evans said, all Head Girl pomp and outrage. "You're putting words in my mouth!"

"I'll try not to from now on."

Evans nodded. "Good." She looked hopeful again. "Good. Well, if you could think about it…only I'm just concerned he's going to fail…"

Sirius Black should fail. His misery would make my year.

"I'll think about it. Though, no promises."

"That's all I ask. That you think about it. Take your time. Though, I would like to have an answer by dinner tonight? If it's at all possible?"

"Done," I said, while my head screamed at me, "Not done! Not done!" I glanced at Lucille. She immediately walked over after Evans left the classroom.

"Did I hear right?" Lucille said. "Lily Evans is commissioning you to tutor Sirius Black?"

"It's not for sure," I prevaricated, pleased at the attention she was giving me. "Nothing's for sure."

"Oh, come on!" Lucy said, flicking me on the shoulder. "It's in the bag! It's Sirius Black."

"Really?" I said. "I didn't know it was Sirius Black. I thought it was Regulus! Or some cousin of Sirius's. How remiss I have been!"

"Come off it!" replied Lucy. "You know you're going to do it."

I shrugged. "I might not. Maybe he should ask me if he really wants a tutor. Sounds to me like he's completely unaware of what's going on…behind his back, even…" I paused, considering this New Piece of Information.

"On that note!" Lucille encouraged.

I nodded. "On that note, it might actually be fun!"

In American-fashion, we high-fived each other. "That's my girl!" Lucy said. "Now come. Dinner awaits."

See? I knew this year would be just chock-full of Interesting Things.

I knew it.