Disclaimer: I do not own the potter-verse. I make no money from this story, etc, etc.

Chapter Three

Daughter—

If it weren't for security issues, this would be a howler! Hufflepuff?! My wrath is only slightly abated by your supposed angry outburst, which one Miss Bulstrode told her mother, who told Mrs. Malfoy, who told her sister, Mrs. Lestrange, who told me! You better be on your worst behavior from now on or you will be getting potions ingredients in your stocking instead of sweets this coming Christmas! That is, if there is a Christmas this year!

Sincerely&etc,

Daddy

Anne sat at the Slytherin table while glumly picking at her morning eggs. Luna sighed contentedly beside her.

"I'm so glad that the trumpleberry fruits are finally in season. I'm going on the grounds this afternoon to harvest them while wearing my trumpleberry harvesting suit. I wish you could see it; it's so darling," said Luna.

"Why don't you just show me after class?" asked Anne.

"Oh, I'd love to, but you still wouldn't be able to see it. It's invisible," replied Luna.

"Merlin's beard. Don't tell me that Loony Lovegood is going to be prancing around the grounds naked?" spat Draco. "I'd sooner eat my cloak than be around to witness that."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Draco," intoned Luna. "Cloak eating is very habit forming, not to mention a costly addiction. It might even cost you your life!"

Draco glared at Luna. "Who gave you permission to say my name? I never said you could say my name!"

"Why, the little man on your shoulder gave me permission to say your name," smiled Luna.

"What?!" yelled Draco, hopping up from his seat and frantically brushing off both shoulders. "What little man?" he demanded. "There is no little man! There better not be a little man on my shoulders or you'll pay for this, Lovegood. I'll make sure my father hears about this!" Draco jumped off from the table and stomped away.

"It's funny," said Luna, "but he never seems to finish his meals. That must be why he looks so fit."

"I don't want to talk about Draco right now, Luna," said Anne morosely. "I have bigger problems."

"There, there," said Luna. "I was upset when I heard about Stubby Boardman, too."

"My father hates me!" wailed Anne, starting to sob. "You don't know what it's like, being the only daughter of a maniacal madman who wants to take over an island. And on top of that, my inherently good looks are failing. Look at my hair! It's all wilted!"

"Really?" said Pansy Parkinson. "My hair gets like that when I forget to take a shower."

"That's what my problem is!" exclaimed Anne. "I forgot to take a shower. All my problems are solved!"

"That's what you think," sneered Blaise Zabini.

"I'll go take a shower right away!" exclaimed an exultant Anne.

"Just a moment, Ms. Smith," said a voice behind her. "You'll need your class schedule."

Anne turned around and was face to face with a short, stout, gray-haired old lady who happened to be sneering at her. The usually amiable Professor Sprout was looking at Anne with the distaste she usually reserved for toxic mold. Anne beamed at her.

"Oh, are you Professor Sprout the Hufflepuff head?" asked Anne happily. "I'm so pleased to see that you're more grumpy than rumored. I'll be sure to write Daddy and tell him the happy news—with a sneer like that you're sure to be a good role model!"

The good professor drew herself up and intoned nastily, "Ten points from Hufflepuff for unnecessary sarcasm and a detention for Friday."

"Oh, but Professor," protested Anne, "I'm no where near proficient at sarcasm! Why, I couldn't be sarcastic if my life depended on it!"

"Twenty points and detention until the end of the week!" shouted the Professor, "And if I hear another word it will be one hundred points and detention for an entire month!"

"Yes ma'm!" smiled Anne as she took her class schedule. "Oh look!" she said. "Double potions with Professor Snape first thing Tuesday morning! I've heard marvelous things about him! Do you think he'll like me?"

"I doubt it," said Zabini.

"He doesn't like anyone!" said Pansy.

"That's only because he has a bad case of Rumple-itis," insisted Luna.

"What are you talking about, you flaming nut!" sneered Zabini.

"Why, that he was hit over the head by Rumplestiltskien when he was a baby, of course! It accounts not only for his bad temper, but also for his pure gold clothes, which he obviously disguises as plain black ones."

"Obviously."

"Oh dear," said Anne. "I've forgot that Hufflepuffs and Slytherins don't attend class together. I suppose I was fated to suffer! It's punishment for not being as evil as my parents."

"If your father is evil I'll eat my hand," said Zabini.