Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or any other character you recognize. The plot, any character you don't recognize, and any pranks mentioned are mine, ALL MINE! MWAHAHAHA :muse smacks me: Sorry about that. Anyway…

Chapter 4: Teachers, New Friends, and Bloomers

School turned out to be much better than Harry thought it would. Although his very best friends were Hermione and Blaine, he got along well with the other kids, too.

In Harry's homeroom, there was a lively, loud, and skinny boy named Dalton Wilkins, who was from the United States and had moved to England just a few months ago. Dalton was bucktoothed and had dark brown hair that was in a bowl cut. Very outspoken, he hung out with Mark Dusk, a quiet, plump black boy with very short hair and a voice that was deep for a nine-year-old. Then there was Susan Cummings, a freckle-faced, blue-eyed girl with thin red hair always tied back into a ponytail, and Anne Sullivan, Susan's best friend, a curly-haired girl with a pale, heart-shaped face.

In Harry's history class, there was a pink-faced girl with blond hair in pigtails named Hannah Abbott, who Harry strongly suspected was a muggleborn witch because he once saw her accidentally repair her broken pencil. Also, there was Dylan Schwartz, who had a slight trouble pronouncing his s's and crystal blue eyes that were almost as pale as Blaine's. He usually hung around Melody Pfeiffer ("just Mel, please!") and Tyler Agnew. Melody was a thin, outspoken girl with long red hair, many freckles, and light brown eyes. Tyler was a short boy with brown hair cut short and grayish-green eyes, and always wore his tie slightly lopsided, whether on purpose or not Harry never knew.

There was Jory Bright, Emily Donstick, Johnny Zimmerman, and Cecilia Taxton, all from Harry's science class. Jory had short blond hair and many freckles, and was really lanky and tall. Emily had brown hair that was always in braided pigtails, and a rather pretty face. Jordan had a serious face, but was anything but (kind of like Sirius); he had bright red hair, dark green eyes, and seemingly always a loose tooth that he was moving around with his tongue. Cecilia had long black hair and was very tan, and had brown, fawn-like eyes.

Also in Harry's science class were the Jenkins triplets, all girls: Anna, Nikki, and Sarah. They were completely identical on the outside (save for the hairstyle) and completely different on the inside. All three had pleasant, pale faces, dark hair, and viridian eyes. Anna, however, sported hair pulled back by a blue headband; Nikki's hair was long and worn loose; Sarah's hair was the same length as Nikki's only hers hung in braid down her back. Anna was more of the studious type, kind of like Hermione, and always was reading a book or writing down story ideas in her notebook (she said she wanted to be an author one day). Nikki was more of the girly-girl type, very talkative and knew everything about everybody (except Harry, which was why she was constantly asking him questions about his life; he always ignored her until one of her sisters led her away). Sarah was the sporty type, playing basketball, soccer, baseball, and football just as good as any of the guys; she also liked to swim and play volleyball.

Math class had a serious-faced, violet-eyed boy named Danny Thine, who shared Harry's love of chess (his mother had taught him before she died) and had hair the color of a very dark cherry. Two other boys, Tommy Winston and Michael Hirsch, usually accompanied him. Tommy was brown-haired, blue-eyed, freckle-faced, athletic, and very mischievous. Michael had a round, boyish face, brown eyes, and blond hair, and was also very mischievous, often helping Tommy drag Danny into trouble (although Danny mostly managed to get himself out of trouble).

Unfortunately, wherever pleasant people were, unpleasant people were bound to follow. In this case, it was Taylor Freedman, Matthew Woods, and Stuart Klinger, all in Harry's P.E. period. Taylor was a plump boy with an obnoxious voice, pinched eyes, and thick dark hair – he slightly reminded Harry of what he could remember of his cousin Dudley Dursley, from his small stay at the Dursleys' when he was little. Matthew was a muscular looking boy with a pudgy nose, a round, freckled face, thick eyebrows and short dark hair. Stuart had blondish hair, high cheekbones, brown eyes the color of mud, and a wide, thin-lipped mouth that never seemed to close – including lunch time, which was why watching him eat usually made Harry want to quit eating. Taylor, Matthew, and Stuart were constantly causing trouble: calling people names, bullying little kids, purposely bumping into other people, beating other kids up, and pushing kids' books out of their hands.

It was the last one that caused Harry to the meet the unpleasant group that had Taylor as the leader.

"Hey, Harry," said Blaine brightly outside the classroom door after lunch that day. "Excited about today?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "This is the day we're going to make that rocket in science, right?"

"Yeah," said Blaine. "I can't wait!"

"Of course not," said Harry. "You're a science freak!" Suddenly, his books went flying. The impact of whatever had hid them had Harry falling forward a few feet. Cooling his features so that none of the anger boiling inside of him was shown (like Uncle Sev had taught him), Harry looked at the three kids that were laughing at him.

"Why did you push my books?" Harry said calmly, looking up at the boy from where he was gathering his fallen books.

"'Cause I wanted to, four-eyes," sneered Taylor.

"Why?" asked Harry, remembering Sirius telling him to say it at times like this because it usually made the bullies speechless, confused, or frustrated. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to have your books knocked out of your hands, so why did you do it to me?"

Taylor was confused. Everyone who'd he'd ever bullied had always shown fear, misery, or at least anger. This kid – his last name was Porter, or something – didn't seem affected at all, instead gathering up his books and talking to him calm as can be.

Like most nine-year-old boys with behaviors like Taylor's, whenever they got confused, they also got mad. Taylor was no exception.

"Who do you think you are?" Taylor snapped.

"I don't think, I know," said Harry, finally rising, his books in his arms, looking Taylor in the eye (!). "My name is Harry Potter. I'm not in your class, but I see you bullying others all the time. If you plan on doing the same thing to me, I'll tell you this – I won't put up with it. You have a problem with me, please tell me right now, else stop bullying me, or I'll fight you back. I'm not scared of you, Taylor, or your thugs, and I won't put up with you bothering me."

"We'll do whatever we want," Stuart piped up, walking up from drinking from the water fountain. "And that includes pushing you, Potter!" Harry switched his emerald-colored eyes to meet Stuart's mud-colored ones, but before he could say anything to him, Hermione beat him to it.

"No, you won't!" she said angrily. "Or else I'll tell Headmistress Salisbury. She'll put a stop to this bullying."

"Go read a book, you know-it-all!" snapped Matthew, curling up his fists.

"At least she can read!" Blake said, with uncharacteristic nastiness.

"I can read!" said Matthew.

"Books with only three-lettered words don't count, Woods," snapped Dalton from behind Harry spitefully.

"Go back to your savage country, Bucky!" said Taylor angrily.

"What are you doing?" said a prefect, coming up. She eyed Matthew's raised fists and Harry's locked jaw. "Not starting a fight, are you? Freedman, Woods, Klinger, you've all ready been to the headmistress's office twice this week, you can't afford to again. Get to class before I report you." Taylor, Matthew, and Stuart slunk away. The prefect turned to Harry and everyone else. "All right, the rest of you, if you don't belong to this classroom, then I suggest you move along also. Go on, scatter!"

The crowd broke up, and Harry turned to his classmates.

"Thanks for standing up for me," he said.

"Don't mention it," said Dalton. "Besides, I've heard better insults from an egg-brained cartoon teenager named Beavis." Everyone stared at him.

"I'm guessing that's an American thing?" asked Anna cautiously, giving Dalton an odd look.

"Yeah," said Dalton. "Come on, let's get to class. I wanna make something explode!"

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Since this was a school, that meant that if there were students in it, there had to be teachers. Chestnut Green was no different. It also had a very interesting, very mismatched group of fourth grade teachers.

First, there was Mr. Phillip Fairbairn, the Math teacher. He had a plump body and a round head perched on top like a coconut, a splotchy face, a pudgy nose, and thick-rimmed glasses. However, he was funny and very witty, and got along well with the students; on the whole, a nice enough man, and was at least one of everyone's favorite teachers. Harry had been quick to rise in his defense when Sirius had mentioned Mr. Fairbairn had "had one donut too many!"

Then there was Miss Andrea Carter (!), the spelling, reading, and grammar teacher, and Harry's homeroom. She was definitely one of Harry's favorite teachers. While she took attendance, she had them sit cross-legged on their desks when she called their name. She played fun games with them like Spelling Baseball. She gave out pretzels to whoever was quiet during reading time and to the team that won Spelling Baseball.

Next in line was Mrs. M. Appleton (no one knew what the 'M' stood for), a stern but funny woman from New York City, New York, who taught History (!). Half of the fourth grade didn't like her, a quarter got along with her and liked her enough, and the last quarter idolized her. She was very sassy, prone to sarcasm and putting on exaggerated expressions (whether they were real or not, Harry wasn't sure) when surprised or angered, and often dressed like a drama club teacher would (shirts used as sashes, skinny-legged dress pants, tank tops with shirts draped over the shoulders, hats, etc.). She was tall and had short, thick auburn hair and high cheekbones, and always wore lipstick.

Also there was Mrs. Elisabeth Bardkick (!4), who taught science. She was a bit like Mrs. Appleton, only British. Also, her face wasn't as expressive and she was about twenty years younger. She was also tall, had dark, shoulder length brown hair, and dark hazel eyes. She also had a twisted sense of humor: she once berated Hermione for knowing the answer to every question, and let her sweat for about a minute before bursting out laughing and telling her she didn't mean it. She was not Hermione's favorite teacher (or one of them, anyway).

After Mrs. Bardkick, there was Mr. Dawson (!5), the P.E. teacher. He was quite young, about Miss Carter's age, which was either early thirties or late twenties. He had short, dark hair, slightly beady gray eyes, and large hands. He was also very good at basketball and volleyball, which was why half of second term was going to be dedicated to both (so he said).

Last, and definitely the most boring, was Mrs. Dorothea Dunkirk, who taught Art. She was stern, strict, and was (according to Blaine's brain) about 0.5 on the sense of humor scale. Her hair was graying and always pulled back in a tight bun, her lips were thin, and she had a badly drawn beauty mark. Also, much to everyone's amusement (or horror), she had drawn-on eyebrows, earning her the nickname "Fly-Away Eyebrows." (!6) Not many students liked her, not even Hermione, save for about ten people (most of them bullies that acted angelic toward her; the others were suck-ups).

Overall, there was a mismatched group of teachers. None of Harry's classes were boring, in any case, save Mrs. Dunkirk's.

This was why she was the only teacher who was going to be a target by Harry, Blaine, and Hermione.

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"Is it clear or not, Hermione?" Harry asked, carefully balancing the huge bucket of clear vinegar (Blaine held a bottle of it, just in case they didn't have enough, as well as one of glue and of polish). They were standing in the janitor's closet after lunch (everyone else was still in the cafeteria), about to pull the first prank of the year. Apart from the vinegar and glue, there was also a roll of twine and scissors in Blaine's left hand. Hermione wasn't carrying anything except a rubber frog, and was standing outside the closet (all three of them agreed she was most likely to cause the least amount of suspicion).

"Yes, it's clear," said Hermione, biting her lip from her position outside the closet door. "Are you sure it's okay to do this?"

"No, but I am sure that it's not okay to do this," said Blaine cheerfully. "But we're going to do it anyway!"

"But, won't we get into trouble?" said Hermione, as they maneuvered down the hallway to room 119.

"Only if we get caught," said Harry, careful to try not to make noise with his sneakers (he was wearing his quiet ones just for the occasion). "Besides, Hermione, we'll take the wrap so you're record isn't ruined, I promise."

"That's not what I'm worried about," whispered Hermione. "If you get caught, then you'll constantly be under inspection every time you come to school! Teachers will never take their eyes of you, so if you so much as walk fast in the hallway you'll get a detention!"

Blaine stared at her. Harry raised his eyebrows in a way that was a lot like his Uncle Sev.

"Didn't know you cared so much," he said simply.

"Well, you know…" Hermione said, flustered. "I don't want you to – it's just that – it's not like that, obviously – but I –"

"Let it go, Hermione," said Blaine wisely. "Let it go." Hermione gave a nervous grin, as they finally reached Mrs. Dunkirk's room.

"We have six minutes," said Harry wisely. "Let's do it!"

"Yeah!" said Blaine, with a devilish grin. He started to unroll the twine…

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It was exactly seven minutes later when the prank truly began. Harry nodded to Blaine, and then to Hermione, like in one of them old spy movies. Harry got up, and went to get a drink of water. Ten seconds later, Hermione took a deep breath, cooled her features, and grabbed her homework (draw one of the rooms inside their houses), which was deliberately partially unfinished. She walked resolutely to the desk at the side of the room, to Mrs. Dunkirk's desk.

Mrs. Dunkirk looked down her nose at Hermione expectantly, one drawn-on eyebrow raised.

"Mrs. Dunkirk, I was wondering if you could help me on this…" she said, adopting an innocent expression. 'Wow, I have acting abilities?' she thought.

Blaine got up, with the innocent excuse of sharpening his pencil. He went by Dunkirk's desk, and with a flick of his wrist, dropped the rubber frog on it. Meanwhile, Harry passed him and kneeled down to tie his shoe, using his right shoulder to partially obscure the view, while he reached down and grabbed the twine, tying it to the ribbon that had 'converse' sown on it that was on the outside heel of his shoe. He went to his desk and sat down, picking up his pencil and tapping his chin, pretending to think, while in actuality he was waiting for Mrs. Dunkirk to discover the frog.

Blaine came back to the seat next to Harry's, and began to draw a lion that went by the name of Pencil that he'd invented (he wanted to be a cartoonist when he grew up, like Charles Schultz).

Hermione was quietly berated by Mrs. Dunkirk for "such an idiotic question," and was shown how to draw a corner of a room (she all ready knew how, of course, but this was a part of the prank). She pretended to act demeaned as she went back to her desk. A bully sniggered at her. In a rare moment of immaturity, she stuck out her tongue at him.

Mrs. Dunkirk frowned at Hermione, pretending to be disappointed in her (which she was doing very badly), while on the inside, she congratulated herself on deflating the little know-it-all girl. It was pathetic, but she refused to admit it, telling herself she was really just preparing Granger for the outside world.

She looked down on her paper, and her eyes bugged out of her skull. There was a big, ugly frog, his beady eyes staring at her.

Now, what you must know, is that Dorothea Dunkirk had a conspicuous fear of all amphibians, reptiles, and just about anything else that was cold-blooded and had a long tail (the reason why she always gave a lower-than-deserved grade to people who made statues of such things). She took great pride in her class, Art, because the only sort of "creepy-crawly," as she called them, that she would find would be in paintings and pictures (but not, as mentioned above, as statues). That was why seeing a frog, an ugly, nasty, slimy (even though it wasn't at all slimy) frog, in here, in this room, her sanctuary, was so upsetting.

Perhaps if it hadn't been in the classroom, on her desk (of all things), instead at home in the yard or at a museum or the park or even in the school's parking lot, then she wouldn't have reacted as strongly, and thus Harry, Blaine, and Hermione's prank wouldn't have worked as sufficiently. Nevertheless, it was, and that is what triggered the melodramatic reaction.

Mrs. Dunkirk screamed, making several students jump, and leaped up from her chair to the side. As she began backing away, Harry jerked his leg backward, making the twine raise off the ground abruptly, tripping Mrs. Dunkirk. Falling backwards, she unknowingly landed on a river of vinegar. Combined with that, the newly polished floor (courtesy of the bottle of polish), and her momentum, she slid down the floor, drawing many laughs from the watching students.

With good reason, too! Because she'd fallen so quickly, her legs were sticking up awkwardly, her arms were flung out, her drawn-on and ridiculously dark eyebrows were unevenly raised; her eyes were wide open in a cartoon-like way; and her mouth was comically open so that her beauty mark was even more obviously phony. That she was screaming in a very high-pitched way didn't help matters.

Almost at the end of the room (her desk was just a few feet away from the corner) she unexpectedly came to a stop. Some of the students groaned, thinking it was over, and apparently, she did as well Mrs. Dunkirk let out a breath, and put her feet on the floor and tried to pull herself up. Her bottom stuck to the floor. Frowning, she put her hands on the floor and pushed, trying to raise herself. There was a ripping noise, as she was finally completely off the floor. Staggering slightly, she managed to stand upright (Harry couldn't help but admire her, as most muggles her age couldn't do that). It was only when she realized her hand was sticky and she looked down on it, did she see there was glue on it. With a feeling of sick dread, it suddenly hit her as to why it'd been so hard to get up. She slowly looked down, and saw a wide rectangular section of her skirt on the floor where she'd been stuck. Her cheeks burned bright red, and almost unwillingly, she turned sideways to see, so that everyone could see the bright patch of pink bloomers.

This was too much for the class! Everyone immediately burst out laughing. Dalton and Dylan both fell out of their chairs, and pounded the floor with their fists. Tommy and Michael were beside themselves, pointing at each other and Mrs. Dunkirk and laughing and uttering sentences only the other understood. Harry and Blaine were doubled-up over their desks, laughing uncontrollably. Danny, normally very conserved, was hiccupping from laughing so hard. No one, however, was as spectacular as Hermione: her face was bright red, tears running down it; her upper-body was hanging limply on her desk; and she was half-laughing, half-coughing so hard that Harry had to reach over from his own hapless-with-laughter state and pound her on the back.

It was some time before anyone was able to talk, and, although Mrs. Dunkirk tried to get them to quiet, her normally imposing figure was ruined by the fact that, while she'd turned around, her pink bloomers were reflected in the window. Michael managed to choke out "Lovely bloomers, Mrs. D!" and Tommy recovered long enough to ask "Did you get them from Victoria's Secret?" which brought another bout of laughter.

Finally, Mr. Cankamp, the deputy headmaster, walked in because of all the laughter. He took one look at the laughing class, then at Mrs. Dunkirk whose bloomers could still be seen in the window, and let out a loud chuckle. He quickly turned it into a cough, turning away, and when he faced the class once again, his face was oddly pinched, as if he was trying hard not to laugh.

"You may go to the office, Mrs. Dunkirk," he managed to say. "I'm sure that Mrs. Doan will be able to lend you something to – cover up with." His face became even more pinched.

"Thank you, Mr. Cankamp," Mrs. Dunkirk said awkwardly, her face, if possible, turning even redder. The class, which had regained some sort of control because of Mr. Cankamp, let out another round of chuckles and snickers when Mrs. Dunkirk placed the back of her hands on her bottom and quickly waddled out.

Mr. Cankamp shut the door after her, and there was a moment of silence, save Mrs. Dunkirk's quick steps outside in the hallway, until they finally died away.

Mr. Cankamp walked to Mrs. Dunkirk's desk, sat down, put his head in his hands, and promptly exploded into laughter.

(!) I took some artistic license and made Harry a bit taller. Personally, I think he would've if he had been raised differently, because he would've been fed more and wouldn't havelived in a cupboard for ten years.

(!) Miss Carter is based on two people, my friend Andrea, who is a teacher (though never one of mine)and who is the basis for how Miss Carter looks as well as her first name; and my old fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Jones, who is the basis for Miss Carter's personality and the game "Spelling Baseball."

(!) Mrs. M. Appleton is based on my old sixth grade Literature teacher, although as you can tell, she teaches history in this story. She both looks and acts like the real Mrs. Appleton.

(!4) Points to who can figure out the interesting twist to Mrs. Bardkick's name!

(!5) Mr. Dawson is based on a PE teacher at my school, Mr. Champley.

(!6) There is a teacher at my school who also goes by that nickname for the same reason. I haven't had her yet, and I hope I never do, because from what I hear, Mrs. Dunkirk and this teacher are very much alike.

Okay, that's all for (!)'s. What did you think of the chapter? The prank? The characters? Let me know in a REVIEW!

Seta Kaede, do me a favor and tell Blaine (if you're still in touch) that I love his song "How Do You Get That Lonely."

Everyone else, thank you very much for reviewing! They just make my day.

Sincerely, JeanieBeanie33