Wow! A LOT of time's gone by now, hasn't it? Well, I'm finally starting this up again! …I hope…

Gilderoy Lockheart

Sonya sighed. Entering the Great Hall, she seated herself across from Hermione, Harry and Ron. Though there was much to eat, she didn't touch a piece of it for herself save for a glass of milk and a slice of toast. She bit off a large chunk of the toast and watched as the owls came with letters. Her own owl, a small, flighty owl named Madison, dropped off a small letter accompanied by a small box. She was about to peek inside when she saw something utterly terrifying: a small red letter addressed to Ron that was on the table, smoking. She pulled her things closer to herself and cast a sympathetic look at Ron before plugging her ears. The thing exploded. Before the angry rant could begin, she rushed out of the Hall with her things, without the slightest intention of listening to what was certainly Ron's parents chastising him for the stolen Ford Angelina.

Not that she didn't find it one of the most amazing stunts she'd ever seen in her life, in Salem or otherwise. She eagerly ripped open her own letter and started to read it, her grin growing wider with every word she drunk in. She was so engrossed in the letter, in fact, that she didn't notice the person she bumped into.

"I was wondering when we'd meet," drawled a voice all too familiar. "Your friends seem to have received a Howler… Pathetic."

"Shove off, Malfoy. I'm in no mood to deal with you."

"To quite the contrary, I must protest that. Why don't you let me see what you've got?" Malfoy replied, moving to snatch her things.

"Why can't you play nice for once?" Sonya replied, hugging the box and letters to her chest.

"I will, actually. Didn't I tell you, I've made the Slytherin Quidditch team?"

"And I suppose now I'm to be rooting for you instead of my team?"

"Well, I'm a great deal more interesting than Potty."

"Can't you use his proper name?" Sonya asked, exasperated.

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm a Slytherin."

"Of course," Sonya replied casually, almost smiling again, "you could just admit that saying his first name makes you nervous of a friendship."

"Of course not! What makes you think that?"

"You never address Crabbe or Goyle by their first names. By doing so, you keep them in their places, so to speak."

"That's untrue." Draco said with a short laugh of derision.

"Is it now?"

"Where did you pull that out from?"

"Certainly not the grease in your hair, that's for sure." Sonya said. Draco, not wishing to follow that overused tangent, disregarded the comment.

"Besides, it's not like I know your last name, so I couldn't call you by it if I so wished to."

"Well, Draco, if you wanted to know, all you had to do was ask."

"But that doesn't solve the problem of you addressing me by first name."

"You'll just have to live with that, now, won't you?" Sonya said, now actually smiling. Draco scanned her face closely before returning the smile wholeheartedly. The bell rung and Ron, Harry and Hermione ran out of the Great Hall.

"Well, it looks like Potty will do whatever he wants to get his name on the front page, huh?" Draco said loudly.

"Don't you dare take shots at any of my friends. You're not worth even one hundredth of them!" Sonya returned. They smiled briefly before each pretending to stalk off angrily.

"What was that about?" asked Harry. Sonya shook her head when something bumped into her back. Twirling around, all Sonya saw was a floating pile of books.

"…Monica?" Sonya asked tentatively. A head poked out from the side.

"Who's the person you were just talking to?" Monica asked. Sonya shrugged.

"Umm, Malfoy, from Slytherin. Why?"

"Does he hate Potter too?"

"…Monica-"

"I have to go then." Monica said, rushing off.

Sonya sighed. In the crowds, she'd lost sight of her friends. She ran down to catch up with them, but ended up nearly bumping into Professor Lockheart. She'd already taken a dislike to him when he'd made a fuss in Diagon Alley about taking pictures with Harry, but this time, he seemed to be giving some sort of a lecture about publicity to- who else?- Harry.

Honestly.

Sonya pushed through the two of them roughly, almost knocking them over.

Harry picked up his bag from where it fell and looked around. Sonya was looking at Professor Lockheart.

"I'm sorry, Professor… um…Well, Professor. I didn't see you there. Do I know you?" She said. Harry grabbed her and dragged her inside the greenhouse where they were supposed to be working. This was greenhouse three, a much more interesting, though dangerous greenhouse. There were tables and tables filled with potted plants, and Harry and Sonya arrived at Ron and Hermione's table. Professor Sprout stood at the front of the class with a large box of earmuffs.

"Now, we'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Can anyone tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Hermione's hand nearly hit Harry on the side of the head. To no one's surprise, it also happened to be the first in the air.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," she recited. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Good girl, take ten points," Professor Sprout said approvingly. "Now, why is the Mandrake also considered dangerous?"

"The Mandrake cry can kill anyone who hears it directly." Sonya said. Professor Sprout nodded.

"Another ten points to Gryffindor," she said. "Now, everyone take a pair of earmuffs and put them on securely. Keep them on until I tell you otherwise. We don't want any deaths in here."

Everyone scrambled for a pair of earmuffs that weren't pink and fuzzy.

Harry put his earmuffs on and waited. The shuffling noises from outside were all blocked out, and from what he could see, everyone seemed to settle down. Professor Sprout pulled the plant out firmly by the leaves.

Harry let out a gasp of surprise that nobody could hear.

Instead of the roots that usually branch out from the bottom of a plant, the Mandrake had a body; yes, a body, that looked much like a squashy, ugly little baby. Though he couldn't hear a single thing, it was clearly crying at the top of its lungs. It was then forced back into a pot, and after what seemed to be ages, Professor Sprout gave the okay to take off the earmuffs.

"Because these are only seedlings, the Mandrake cries in here won't kill you. However, they will knock you out for a few hours, maybe even a day. Therefore, you must securely place the earmuffs over your ears. I will attract your attention when it is time for you to go."

With this, Professor Sprout explained directions-"four to a tray"- and set them off to work. As Sonya went to secure a good tray and other materials, a Hufflepuff boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley came over to greet them.

"You're Harry Potter, right? I've heard loads about you! And you're Hermione Granger, always the top of the class (Hermione beamed as he shook her hand) and you're Ron Weasley! Wasn't that your flying car?"

Ron didn't smile, his mind obviously still on the Howler. Harry looked around for their things while Justin went on about-

"Mandrakes!" Sonya called, pushing through. She gracefully sidestepped Justin and set the tray on the table, handing out gloves, etc. to the rest of the group.

"Um… Who are you?" Justin asked as politely as the question is ever capable of being asked.

Sonya smiled widely, a devilish tint added to her twinkling eyes. "No one of consequence."

Justin, upset that he had lost his chance to work with them, slunk away. After that, the rest of the class was consumed in the seemingly tedious task of repotting the Mandrakes. They didn't make the task very enjoyable, Harry noted, as he tried to force a rather large one into a pot. Finally, the class was over, and Harry, along with the other dirty, sweaty and tired Gryffindors, hiked up to the seventh floor to take a quick shower before heading to Transfiguration.

McGonagall was notorious for her classes, but it seemed to be harder than ever. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have slipped out of his brain over the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he was doing was giving it exercise as it scuttled away across the desk frantically.

Ron was having worse problems. His Spello-taped wand was fizzing and spluttering fantastically, but without the added benefit of any real magic. A particularly large cloud of black smoke that had emitted from his wand caused him to accidentally squash his beetle. Professor McGonagall didn't appear to be pleased as she handed him the next bug.

Harry noticed something particularly odd this year, however. It was his first class this year with the Ravenclaws, and this girl next to him, working with Hermione and Sonya, seemed to be showing off her buttons every single time he looked up. Sonya sighed and glanced over once in a while.

"Look! Five buttons, and what does Potter have to show for it?" Monica said. Sonya growled with boredom. Distractedly, she prodded her latest beetle quite forcefully, which only ended up seeming dead for a few moments before attempting to scuttle away. Ben, who had been working with them, snickered quietly as Professor McGonagall passed by.

"Is that so funny? I want to see you all do it." She said. With a collective sigh, all four students picked up their wands and transfigured their beetles in an almost synchronized fashion. Sonya looked up with an amused smile on her face. McGonagall rolled her eyes and moved on.

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing. Ben, how many times have you read that?" Sonya asked, pointing to the not-so-secretly concealed Lord of the Rings book under the desk. Ben shrugged.

"Only about twenty seven times." He replied. All those within hearing range were surprised to hear his voice come out deep (for a second year) and strong (for a bookworm).

Ben was glad for the lunch bell. There was a flurry of movement as people endeavored to put things away. In Ron's case, this wasn't working. His wand was hissing uncontrollably now.

"Ron, just write your parents for another!" Harry said. Ron stuffed the wand into his bag.

"Right, and they'll send me another howler, no doubt. 'It's your own fault your wand broke!'"

They met up with Sonya and Ben outside the Great Hall after lunch.

"Sonya, who's the Ravencl-"

"What do we have after lunch?" Sonya asked Hermione, completely disregarding Harry's question.

"Defense against the Dark Arts." She replied promptly.

"Why is it outlined in little hearts?" Ron demanded as Hermione stuffed away her schedule. Ben was now reading the Silmarillion as he walked, artfully sidestepping people as he maneuvered through the crowds. They walked on in silence until something small, blonde and fast collided into Ron.

"Sorry, sorry- Harry Potter! Can I take your picture?"

"What?" He asked tiredly.

"I-I'm Colin Creevey! Please, can I take your picture? Maybe one of your friends here could take it and I could be in the picture and you could… maybe even… kind of sign it?"

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"

A scathing voice from behind forced a groan from Sonya as she turned around. Draco Malfoy was entering the courtyard flanked, as he always was, by his two large and sluggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"No, he's not, actually. Little Colin here is just a bit delusional," Sonya put in quietly as Draco flashed her a smile nobody else could decipher as sincere.

"Oh, like the pictures he wasn't trying to get in Diagon Alley?" Draco asked of her. "Come round, everyone, come get a signed photo from Harry Potter!"

"I'm not giving out signed photos, Malfoy!" Harry growled.

"Yeah, you're just jealous," Colin put in. Sonya smacked her forehead. Internally, that is.

"Jealous?" Malfoy sneered. He was no longer shouting, seeing as most of the courtyard was listening in. "I don't need a foul scar marring my face. I have better things to do than cut open my forehead."

Sonya stepped dangerously close to Malfoy, her eyes almost level with his.

"Now, listen here, Malfoy," she said aloud, "just because nobody's taking a picture of you doesn't mean you have to show off your vanity."

"That was weak," Malfoy whispered.

"Well, you are too. Can't you find anyone else to pick on?" Sonya whispered back desperately.

"Nobody but you, love, and you know I'd love that," Malfoy replied quietly, grinning from ear to ear.

"You know, you keep standing up for little Miss Potter over there and we'll be inclined to think something's up," Malfoy said aloud. Sonya was about to retort when Lockhart turned the corner. Malfoy stepped away and walked off. Sonya, not wanting to deal with the quite annoying professor any more than she had to, walked off with Ben and Monica.

(After Lockheart's class because, like Sonya, I don't want to deal with him.)

Ben's eyes bugged as soon as the cloth came off of the cage. They were pixies. They were some of the easiest animals to subdue, second only to flobberworms. A few more moments of talking and Ben was proved wrong. It seemed to be Pandemonium.

"Milton had no idea about what he was talking about…" Ben commented as he battled off a stream of the things. Sonya joined him as everyone else rushed out.

"Well, a pixie's worth 1000 words, and they're not exactly decent remarks either…" Sonya replied as she sent seven flying back into the cage. Hermione had finally managed to send the rest into the cage and they escaped the classroom.

"He's a fraud!" Ron exclaimed.

"No, no! He wanted it to be hands on, really! He's written so much, you know, and his books-"

"Are full of it, Hermione. Face it: the man's a fraud, obviously. Any competent teacher would have been able to subdue the pixies. Except for him."

Darn it... I don't know why, but it feels like the quality of my work is declining... and it makes me sad... well, it's school and all, and I'm practically failing, so for a while (again) no updates. Although maybe I'll work on another chapter and have it finished by Sunday... Thank god for breaks!

By the way, I don't know why, but I find it interesting that Sonya and Draco are being drawn towards becoming friends... comments on that? Friends: More, less or the same? I'll take your input!

Please review constructively (compliments appreciated ) and be sure to tell me WHY something's good or bad...

The "Sonya" outside of the computer