Thanks for the reviews, you guys are awesome!

I've started a blog for this fic, basically just a place to post pretty pictures to keep me inspired. And having that visual element to a story is fun :) Link is on my profile page if you want to check it out.

Chapter 6

"Melody! Get your vegan arse in here!" I yell at the closed bathroom door of the Gryffindor girls dorms.

"Rose, you know I'm not vegan anymore!" Melody whines from the other side.

This is a sensitive issue for her; ever since she got to Hogwarts, she's had to adapt to the 'horribly carnivorous' menu and become a vegetarian. She still winces every time she eats an egg. But right now I don't care, because I've just found a bowl of what looks like curdled mud sprinkled with rose petals under my bed and I'm pretty sure I know who the culprit is.

"What the hell is this?" I demand, sticking it under her nose when she comes out of the bathroom wearing a towel turban.

"It's a balancing remedy," she says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "For calming your emotions. You seemed a bit frazzled before the break."

"Ugh, this has been here for two weeks?"

Melody shrugs, shaking out her hair. "It takes about three weeks to work. You can put it under my bed if you don't want it."

"It smells like shit, I'm throwing it out."

"Oh Rose, no wonder you're so angry all the time," Melody says in her sing-song voice.

"Ewww, what the hell is that?" says Cynthia Earl as she saunters into the room. The earthy smell of the mud gives way to the stench of her pungent flowery perfume.

"It's a balancing remedy," I tell her.

"You are such a freak," she says, and flops onto her bed.

I roll my eyes. I love Hogwarts, but one of the downsides is that I have to room with girls like Cynthia Earl. I honestly don't get how she got put in Gryffindor (most days I don't understand how I got put in Gryffindor, but I digress) because there is nothing brave about the way she needles and bitches and bullies. I made enemies with her on day one when she came up to me and said in that snobbish voice she possessed even at the tender age of eleven, "You're a Weasley, right? I'm only friends with cool people, and I pick you. Your cousin is so cute by the way."

I had scrunched up my nose (anyone who said Albus was "cute" was obviously barking mad) and said, "No, thanks."

Needless to say, Cynthia Earl does not take kindly to rejection, and she's been a thorn in my side ever since.

Her two cronies - also Gryffindor sixth years - aren't here yet, which is why she's silently lying on her bed instead of rambling on about how weird me and Melody are. She doesn't perform without an audience.

"Cynthiaaaaa!"

I take that back. They're here.

Penelope Montague bounds in and the two girls shriek and embrace each other as if they've just been reunited after the Second Wizarding War. Melody calmly side-steps them. Penelope is blonde and bubbly, whereas Cynthia is dark-haired and mean, but the two of them are thick as thieves. She sort of reminds me of Lucy - a sheep to Cynthia's shepherd, a side-kick that never fails to carry on a jeer that Cynthia starts. It's quite entertaining to watch sometimes.

Sally Hicks enters, and they go absolutely mental. I feel sorry for Sally; most of the time she has no idea what's going on. She's a sweet girl when you get to know her but she's as dumb as a cheeseboard, not to mention she thinks that Cynthia is "terribly funny". She's terrible, alright.

So terrible, in fact, Melody and I call Cynthia and her posse the 'Terrible Three'.

"What have you girls been up to?" says Cynthia. "I went to the Maldives, we spent every day on Daddy's yacht, it was all terribly boring."

"Oh I'd love to go to the Maldives!" exclaims Penelope. "I was stuck at home with my parents. My sister had a baby."

Cynthia looks appalled.

"I had to help me ma' castrate the cows," Sally says.

The whole room - including Melody and I - all turn to stare at her.

"I think I'm going to dye my hair," Cynthia finally says, fingering her dark brown locks.

"Oooh, what colour?" Penelope asks.

I turn to my trunk and tune them out as I begin unpacking my things. This is going to be a long term.

xxxxxxxxxx

I'm sorry about the way we left things. When is your next Hogsmeade trip? We need to talk.

-Teddy.

I read the note over my toast, take a bite, then read it again. 'We need to talk'. That sounds serious.

I look at the barn owl that delivered the letter as if it's all his fault the note is so cryptic but it just blinks at me then flies off, almost hitting me in the face. I read the note again, assessing each word. What does he mean by, 'the way we left things?'. That sounds like something two people in a relationship say to each other. Maybe that's what we've started now - a relationship?

I'm kidding, of course I'm kidding, I know that drunken pash doesn't constitute a relationship. But perhaps it's the start of Teddy not seeing me as little Rosie Posie anymore.

"What's that?" Melody says, and before I can stop her she snatches the note off me. She raises a brow. "Really? And you're going to meet him?"

I shrug. "Maybe."

Of course I'm going to meet him.

"Rose, he's just using you."

Ouch. Usually I appreciate Melody's bluntness, but it's not something I want to hear today.

"Teddy's a nice guy," I say. "I've known him for ages. Rebound or no, we're going to have talk sometime."

"Mmhmm," says Melody doubtfully.

I sigh and carefully fold the note. When Melody's not looking I tuck it into my pocket to analyse later.

xxxxxxxxxx

I'm struggling to keep my eyes open in Herbology (it's a theory lesson today so we're stuck in an oppressive classroom in the dungeons) while Neville - or Professor Longbottom, I should say - drones on about the reproductive systems of Snargaluffs.

I jerk awake when a small paper plane sails past Neville's back as he draws a diagram on the chalkboard. I hear Albus snort from the back of the class, and I turn to glare at him and his Slytherin buddies. I'm not surprised to find Darius Flint holding the wand.

Darius shows me his teeth (whatever that motion is, it can't be described as a smile) and sends another plane past Neville, and this time it circles lazily above his head. Scorpius is sitting at the desk directly in front of them, but he's lounging back in his chair looking down at something on his desk with a bored expression. Some prefect.

"Stop it!" I hiss at them.

"Rose Weasley," says Neville as he turns around.

I immediately snap back to the front and sit up straighter. "Yes, professor?"

"Something the matter?"

The plane is still spinning round and round above him. My eyes wander involuntarily up, before meeting his eyes again. Neville looks up.

"Did you do this?" he says as he snatches it out of the air and crumples it in his hand.

I can tell he's trying to put on his stern voice. I can't keep the mental image of him at Uncle Harry's New Years party (having a drunken boogie to Victoire's Hot 'n' Old) out of my head while I answer.

"No!" I say indignantly.

Cynthia and Penelope giggle behind me.

"Then who was it?"

I sink into my chair. I may be a wet blanket but I'm not a nark.

"Well?"

"It was me," Scorpius says.

I turn around in shock. He doesn't look at me at all; he's looking defiantly back at Neville.

"Ten points from Slytherin," Neville says. "For wasting class time. I expect more from you, Mr Malfoy."

Scorpius doesn't bother replying and he goes back to doodling on his parchment. Neville clears his throat, clearly thrown off by his disdain of authority, and continues the lesson. I glare at Darius, who blows me a kiss. Ugh.

After class I go apologise to Neville on behalf of his immature students.

"Suck up," Albus snickers at me as he leaves. I slap the back of his head.

Neville sighs. "It's alright. I killed a giant snake once, but I swear, teaching a bunch of teenagers is harder."

"Teenagers suck arse," I agree.

Neville raises his eyebrows at my crudeness.

"What? I'm Ron's daughter," I joke, then excuse myself for the next class.

He pretends to be appropriately disapproving, but I hear him chuckle as I leave.

Being back at Hogwarts after these holidays in particular is awkward, as Scorpius happens to be in every one of my classes except Charms.

I trail into Arithmancy behind Penelope Montague and take my usual seat in the far corner. I love this subject, but Scorpius being one eighth of the students in the classroom makes me that much more aware of him sitting there in all his blond-haired, pointy-faced arrogance. He's sitting with Adele Zabini in the pair of desks adjacent to mine. I try and make eye contact to thank him for taking the blame before (because I'm a decent human being who acknowledges others!) but he either doesn't notice me or is pointedly looking down.

Even Adele picks up on my scary eye-laser and she smiles at me prettily. Adele Zabini is the type of girl who does everything prettily. Her long, ebony hair always sits prettily around her delicate shoulders, and her dark brown eyes sparkle prettily whenever she says something in that pretty voice of hers.

"Welcome back," Professor Trig says as he breezes in. "I hope you all had a relaxing holiday, because you'll need it for this term. Please turn to page two hundred and twenty one."

Penelope is forced to sit next to me every class as there are only just enough seats for everyone. She reaches the page before me and groans. "Advanced multiplication charts," she reads out.

"Exactly, Miss Montague," Professor Trig says happily.

Is it weird that I'm excited about this section? I am such a nerd.

Professor Trig adjusts his powder-blue bowler hat and launches straight into the nuances of these new, extended charts. There's a reason there are only eight students in this class; firstly it's an elective, and secondly, it's bloody difficult. By the end of the lesson my head is reeling from all the words the professor used to explain all the numbers.

Penelope stuffs the multitude of notes she took during the lecture into her bag and stands before I've even capped my ink bottle. "See ya," she says, and hurries out of the room.

She's actually not so bad when Cynthia's not around. We're quite civil to each other during class. And I have to give her a grudging admiration for obtaining an 'O' grade in the Arithmancy O.W.L.s last year. The girl's not completely daft - just in her choice of friends.

After Charms (where Scorpius continued to ignore me and opted to chat to Adele and Albus the whole lesson) and Ancient Runes, I stroll into the Great Hall for lunch to find the whole place in utter chaos.

Floating high up near the enchanted ceiling is a massive, blow-up clown. It's lying face down and its red-lipsticked mouth twists into an awful smile every few seconds while its beady eyes ogle down at everyone. It spans almost the width of the whole hall. And it's absolutely terrifying.

There are girls screaming, some are crying, but most students are laughing and pointing. Professor Flitwick is standing on the Hufflepuff table madly waving his wand at it, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything.

I spot Hugo sitting at the Hufflepuff table with Lorcan and Lysander (they're among those laughing) and head towards them.

"What's going on?"

Lysander grins. "I don't know, but it's bloody brilliant."

"I'm pretty sure that's a Wheezes product," Hugo tells me.

"They're banned," I say, but then realise how stupid that sounds.

"Duh," says Lysander.

I ignore him. "Can I help you, Professor?" I ask as Professor Flitwick directs another useless spell at the clown.

"Oh, Miss Weasley. Yes, yes, can you get Professor Addison for me?"

Professor Addison is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Obviously Flitwick thinks this is the work of the devil. It sure does look like it.

I really can't be bothered being his errand girl. I rope in a frightened first year and send him off to Professor Addison's office.

"Have you told him it's a Wheezes product?" I whisper to Hugo.

"No," says Hugo.

Hmm, maybe I shouldn't either… I hate these instances where being a Weasley affects my school life. Especially my obligations as a prefect.

"Professor?" I say to him cautiously.

He turns to me. Standing on the table he's about the same height as me. "Yes, Miss Weasley?" he says, exasperated.

"Maybe you should try an Expanding charm?"

He looks at me like I'm crazy.

"And why in the world would I do that?"

Because it works to de-activate most of Uncle George's pranks, I silently tell him.

I shrug. "I don't know. Just an idea."

"I think you're going to need to catch up with the rest of the N.E.W.T. students, Miss Weasley."

Hugo and Lysander giggle. Lorcan - known to me as 'the less annoying one' - gives me a sympathetic grimace.

Professor Addison comes hurrying into the hall, her robes flaring out behind her as she runs towards us.

"What the hell is going on?"

I almost laugh as Hugo, Lorcan and Lysander immediately spring from their seats and offer to help the beautiful witch.

Professor Addison ignores them and flicks a lock of glossy black hair over her shoulder, adjusts her pointed hat, and gets up on the table with Flitwick.

"Filius?" Professor Addison asks.

Flitwick shakes his head. "It's Dark Magic."

Professor Addison looks doubtfully up at the swollen harlequin face grinning at us. "Looks like a prank to me."

Flitwick throws up his hands. "I've tried everything!"

"Have you tried an Expanding charm?"

Flitwick glances up at her in surprise, then immediately turns to me. I'm too late - as soon as she says it I start hurrying away, but I'm still near enough to hear him call out, "Weasley!"

I stop. I turn slowly, an innocent smile plastered on my face. "Yes, Professor?"

"What is the significance of the Expanding charm?"

I frown. "Will this be in the test tomorrow? Because I haven't studied for it yet, Professor, I'm terribly sorry, I-"

Professor Addison smiles at me. A beautiful but calculated smile. "Miss Weasley? Would you like to do the honours?"

Bitch.

I sigh and pull out my wand. Hugo widens his eyes at me. I'm not sure what he wants me to do, I'm pretty much being forced to do this. Be a wet blanket in front of the whole school.

I point my wand up and silently direct an Expanding charm at it. Perhaps Professor Addison will let me off easier if I demonstrate the nonverbal magic she always goes on about during class.

A jet of purple light hits the clown square in the nose and its face starts folding in grotesquely into itself. I think its going to just float down quietly but all of a sudden it's like someone's let off a squeaky, extended fart: the clown flies backwards and it starts circling madly around, squeaking and squealing, with students squealing identically under it, until it eventually crumples into a heap of cloth over the Gryffindor table below.

Professor Addison steps gracefully down from the table (ignoring Lysander's chivalrous, outstretched arm) and addresses me first. "Miss Weasley, a word?"

"It wasn't me, Professor."

But I think I know who it was.

"Then who?"

"I don't know."

Professor Addison regards me coolly with her piercing blue eyes. "I know you know. Who was it?"

"I don't know."

She sighs. "Very well then. Detention. Tonight."

"You can't!"

Professor Addison blinks. "Excuse me?"

"It wasn't me. I just know about the deactivation charm because it's a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes invention."

"I don't care who you're related to, Miss Weasley, you are not using your name to get out of this."

I gape at her. How dare she!

She barely glances at my indignant expression; she turns to help Professor Flitwick get down off the table ("Ahh, my rheumatism!") and then with a swish of her robes and long black hair she stalks out the Great Hall.

Was this chapter extremely filler-y and character introduction-y? Yes. Was it entertaining nevertheless? I'll let you be the judge of that. Let me know :)