Chpt. 5- The Trouble at Breakfast
Lyric woke up at six, while the rest of the girls were sleeping. She tip-toed to the girls' bathroom. Lyric had always gotten up early, hoping to avoid the other girls while in the shower. She climbed into the first stall and let the hot water run over her. After just standing there for nearly twenty minutes, she washed her hair, and debated shaving her legs. She opted for no, as she heard a group of girls enter the bathroom. She switched the water off, grabbed her towel and robe, and quickly ran back to her room.
A new girl had moved into their room, since as Head Girl, Amaryllis got her own room. Lyric recognized her as Griselda Orland. In the seven years that had been at Hogwarts together, Griselda had said maybe three words to Lyric, and two of them were insults. Griselda was from a very wealthy wizard family. They were obsessed with all things wizard, and hated the Muggle-born with a passion. They had also been rumored to be involved with Voldemort, though charges were never brought. It was well-known that the Orland family always ended up in Slytherin, and Griselda was the first child that ended up a Gryffindor. Lyric remembered the Sorting ceremony that year. After her placement, Griselda through a gigantic fit, demanding that she be sorted again. The professors assured her that the hat was never wrong, and forced her to stay in Gryffindor. Griselda never accepted her placement. She cheered endlessly for the Slytherin team and often stayed the night with her Slytherin friends. She also had a nasty habit of losing points for the Gryffindor house, just to spite them. Now, she just sat glaring at Lyric.
Lyric shuddered to think she'd being sharing a room with this girl her last year. Lyric quickly got dressed and went to wake up Iona. Waking Iona is something that most people would do only if they had a death wish, but letting her sleep in was even worse. Lyric looked through her bags and found her stash of Bertie Bott's beans. She selected a grey one. Grey colored beans were almost never a good thing. She placed it in Iona's mouth and ran to the other side of the room. She didn't want to be within reaching distance. Iona sat up coughing and sputtering.
"Oh," she gagged, "pepper!" She glared at her best friend.
"Sorry mate, didn't want you to miss breakfast. Hurry up and get ready." Iona dragged herself out of bed and to the bathroom, when she was ready, her and Lyric went down to the dining hall together.
They sat down next to Tristan and began to fill their plates with food. Iona took eggs, bacon, sausage, a croissant with chocolate spread, a pancake, and a cup of coffee. Tristan was eating more or less the same thing. Lyric stuck was a piece of bran toast and jelly, and a cup of unsweetened tea. Lyric was jealous of how much Iona was able to eat and eat and never gain a pound, while Lyric knew that her toast would probably end up on her thighs by the end of the day.
"How can you just eat that?" Iona asked, glaring at the toast as though it were about to bite her.
"How can you eat all that?" Lyric pointed at Iona's over-flowing plate. "If I ate like that, you'd have to levitate me in and out of here, or use a forklift."
"What's a forklift?" asked Tristan. He knew very little about the Muggle world.
Dumbledore was handing out timetables. Lyric was eager to see which classes she got. Care of Magical Creatures. Of course. Magical Legends and Lore. Standard for all seventh years. Divination. Ugh. Lyric hated the class, but she needed another class on her schedule, and Iona was in it. Potions. What? Lyric knew she had not signed up to take Potions.
Tristan and Iona had the same look on their face. "Potions, with him?" cried Tristan.
Just then Dumbledore made an announcement, "For all the seven year, the ministry has required another level of potions for all students."
"Oh god! Why me?" Iona screamed melodramatically. "The man with the warm hands," she started giggling.
"Shut. Up," Lyric said quietly.
Meanwhile, Tristan kept watching for Peyton and Keith. No doubt they were posting last night's pictures all over the school. They walked in and gave Tristan the thumbs up.
"Well, ladies, I think it's time we take a stroll to class," Tristan got out of his seat.
"This, ought to be good," Lyric called to Iona.
The hallways were lined complete with posters of the first year Gryffindor boys. There were individual pictures of each boy in their hula skirts, there names flashed in red and gold. Students from all houses were crammed up against the wall to see the pictures.
Rita Skeeter flew past Lyric in the hall asking a first year, "How has this emotional trauma affected your life? Any suicidal thoughts?" She stopped chasing them when she caught sight of Lyric. Being the headmaster's niece made Lyric a constant target of Skeeter's so-called journalism. She smiled at Lyric and found a new page in her notebook. "Tell me, Lyric," she started, green pen poised above the paper, "how does the news of your uncle hiring a Death-Eater affect you? Are you angry at your uncle? Have you tried to persuade him to change his mind?"
"No comment," Iona butted in.
"Lyric Dumbledore was so upset… no, that's not right. Lyric Dumbledore was so overwhelmed by her emotions, that's better, that her friends had to speak for her. Yes, that'll print quite nicely." She turned to Tristan, found a new page, "And you Tristan, do you think that this year, your prank has gone over the line? Do think you first years will suffer any emotional trauma?"
Lyric fielded that one, "Rita, you have about ten seconds to get out of our sight, or you're going to suffer some emotional trauma."
"Tristan, unwilling to comment on his actions, has resorted to physical violence-"
"That's it, come hear you little snake!" Iona took after Rita, who had begun running down the hall.
"I hate her," Lyric stated bluntly.
"But, you'll be reading the Wart Report tomorrow?" Tristan asked.
"Of course, I need to get my gossip, even if-" Lyric trailed off as she realized Snape walking towards her and Tristan. Off down the hall, they heard Rita scream.
"You!" Snape hissed pointing at Tristan. "Are you responsible for these pictures?" he yelled, grabbing onto Tristan's ear and pulling.
"Ow!" Tristan yelled in pain.
"Answer me!" Snape screamed and pulled harder
"Ow, yes sir!" Tristan cried.
It seemed the entire school had stopped to watch the action. Snape's eyes were wild with anger. "Do you find amusing to torture students?" he asked. He was pulling so hard on his ear, Tristan was nearly on the floor.
"No, but I can see you do," Tristan voiced was pained, but defiant.
Snape's eyes got very large and he let go of Tristan. As soon as Tristan stood up, he grabbed him by the back of the next and forced him down the hall. "Perhaps you'd like to discuss this in my office?"
"Stop it!" Lyric screamed at the greasy professor. It took Lyric a second to realize she had screamed out loud.
Snape looked surprised. "Do you have something to add?" he asked.
Lyric stalled. She rarely spoke out, especially to her professors. "It was just a prank. He's done it every year, and never been in trouble before."
"Do you really find that a sufficient reason that he shouldn't be punished now?" Lyric thought Snape seemed amused.
"Well," Lyric didn't really have an answer. "It's just a bit of fun."
"A bit of fun?" Snape repeated. "Since it was all in good fun, would you like us to plaster photographs of you in a coconut bra all over the school?" Cruelty lay behind his amusement, Lyric was sure of it.
"Actually, I wouldn't mind-" Tristan started. He never was good on timing.
"SHUT UP!" Snape screamed.
"Well, no sir, but-" Lyric was cut off.
"In that case, may I continue my private conversation with this boy in my office, please?" Snape's voice had returned to the eerie hissing.
"Yeah, sure." Lyric was sad to back have to back down, but she didn't want to stand up to Snape any further. Tristan winked at her, as if to say 'Thanks.'
"Thank you," Snape turned to the other students, "Shouldn't you all be getting to class?" he yelled. Students scrambled in all directions to get away, as Lyric watched Snape lead her friend down the hall.
Iona appeared at her side. "God, that was scary."
"You have no idea," Lyric looked at her friend who was carrying a clump of blonde hair.
"Courtesy of Rita Skeeter," she threw the hair on the ground. "Don't worry about Tristan, he can hold his own. C'mon love, we'll be late to Divination."