(A/N: The beginning parts of this chapter were written by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim to own her words, characters, etc. The only things I own are Dylan and her family and Mrs. Pentstemmon, my side plot, and the lint in my pocket.)

Chapter 4: Of Speeches and Lasting Impressions

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

"Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody it to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs a foul of the dementors," he said.

Percy Weasley, who was sitting a few seats down from the famous Harry Potter, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continured as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

I jumped as multitudes of food appeared on the plates that were empty a moment ago.

"House elves," Fred and George answered my unspoken question.

To be straight forward, I basically gorged on everything that was within a 3m radius. The next morning I would deeply regret eating so much.

Percy led everyone up to Gryffindor Tower and at the end of the landing, a giant portrait of a fat lady in a frilly pink dress apparently guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Password?" The Fat Lady asked in a higher class voice.

"The new password's 'Fortuna Major'." Percy called out.

The portrait swung forward to let us in. After a quick tour and explanation of Gryffindor Tower, Katie and Alicia led the way to the Girls' Sixth Year room. There were five four-poster beds, each with a trunk at the end of the bed.

I made my way to my assigned bed and looked around the room to find the fifth inhabitant missing, although there was an initialed trunk on the floor. "Who's the fifth person?" I asked no-one in particular.

"Oh, that's Whitney Price, head of the 'Hot Quidditch Guys Fan Club'. Stupid name and horrible club if you ask me." Katie stated.

"No doubt she's trying to impress one of her prey now." Angelina commented.

I was shocked to say the least. First because of Angelina saying something moderately bad about someone other than a Slytherin. And second, that there were fangirls at this school. If there's one thing in the world I hate more than a book that has no plot, it's fan girls. After my mother moved to Great Britain, she began to write teen novels as a hobby to her job as a PR agent. she was published right away and her books quickly became bestsellers. When I was anywhere with my mother, we would be swarmed by teenage girls wanting her picture or autograph. We finally moved to a little less crowded town when I was of school age. I thought I was finished with and sort of fangirl for life. I guess I was wrong...

It was at about ten o'clock, when I was about to go to bed, that I caught my first glimpse of Whitney. She was one of those girls who carry themselves as if they were the queen of the world, expecting everyone to bend to her will. Typical blonde hair, blue eyes (that were surrounded by way too much make-up), and she wore extremely expensive looking robes. If it weren't for the red and gold badge on her cardigan, I would have thought she was a pureblood Slytherin. Although I did suspect she was pureblood in the least.

She seemed to notice my glance and turned on her stilletto heels to face me. Her voice was one of those incredibly annoying posh voices, you know, the ones that seem as their nose is permanently pinched close. "You're the new girl aren't you?" She drawled.

No, I've been going to school with you for six years and this is the first time you've seen me.

"Yes, my name is Dylan Worl." I politely said, disguising my prejudicial hatred toward the seemingly fake, fangirl.

"Whitney Price. Surely even you have heard of me. No? Well, you will; even if you do have your nose deep in that book, you will not treat me as if I am less intellegent than you. You will respect me..." She dragged on and on with her "rules" while I merely tuned her out.

After about thirty minutes I interrupted Whitney (she was appalled because apparently it was one of her rules to not interrupt her) and told her "goodnight", which in my world meant "Shut up, I'm tired and I am going to bed where I will dream of lovely things, and "you will" not be there."