A/N: There's a pretty long author's note at the end.

Incidentally, that was also the day Hyacinth Potter received her introduction to Gryffindor Tower.

Now, there was a moderate level of activity that took place within the Slytherin common room. People played chess, truth or dare with a potion called Veritaserum which Hyacinth was informed forced the drinker to tell the truth, and a wizarding version of chicken that involved both parties wandering the castle past curfew together, and whoever ditched and ran back to the Slytherin dungeons first lost. There was also a fair amount of sarcasm, bickering, and particularly loud rap music, courtesy of a sixth-year who'd learned it from Muggle Studies, and managed to enchant a stereo that would work despite the magical interference. That one was particularly surprising within the den of Muggle-hating blood purists, but she figured it was something forbidden and therefore more enticing.

But all this was nothing compared to the Gryffindor common room, which seemed to be in a constant state of party, at least for the weekend. Hyacinth was met with a certain amount of suspicion for her Slytherinity, but this was mostly negated by two factors: One, she did defeat the Dark Lord; and two, she was wearing Muggle clothing, so how bad could she really be?

And so it was with delight that she was introduced by Hermione to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, as well as Fred and George Weasley, who Hyacinth decided were much more fun to be around than their little brother.

Hermione Granger, for her part, seemed to be taking a day away from homework. Her hair was down from its usual high ponytail, and the curls danced about her face every time she turned her head. She was in a faded gray hoodie and a pair of jeans, and it was the most relaxed Hyacinth had seen her since they met.

Lavender and Parvati asked her an overload of questions about the Slytherin dungeon, and they seemed particularly interested in Hyacinth's haircare routine. She wasn't sure how to explain that it was entirely thanks to Daphne, who had bombarded her with about six different types of magical haircare products, saying "With hair as nice as yours, you have to keep it that way."

She had a feeling Daphne would make good friends with these two, but more than anything she was amused by the antics of the Weasley twins.

Fred and George considered themselves high-caliber pranksters, who were currently in the process of persuading Hyacinth to reveal the password to the Slytherin dungeons.

Unfortunately for them, Hyacinth considered this a particularly bad idea, imagining the havoc the red-headed twins would wreak upon Slytherin if given the chance.

"What is the problem between our Houses, anyway?" she asked.

"Childish rivalry, more than anything," muttered Hermione darkly, "but the war thickened any and all dividing lines it could."

"Quite a fun childish rivalry, if I do say so myself," offered George.

"And I and myself both say so," added Fred.

She thought she heard Hermione say "Myself and I" under her breath, but wasn't sure. Just then, a load of seventh-year boys paraded in, carrying another seventh year boy above their heads, chanting "CAPTAIN WOOD! CAPTAIN WOOD! CAPTAIN WOOD!" About half of the common room joined in, the rest were too distracted by their own merrymaking.

"Ah, Quidditch," said Fred, being met with a blank expression of ignorance from Hyacinth, at which point Fred, George, about half of those seventh-year boys, and Captain Oliver Wood himself proceeded to explain to her in great detail and length just what exactly Quidditch was.

It sounded dangerous, but she was starting to see a pattern of danger and magic.

That was when there was a definite pop in the bubble of fun she'd been having. Ron Weasley and a couple of the other Gryffindor first-year boys came in, and when he saw Hyacinth, his face turned sour. He stomped over with all the grace of a monster truck (not, she reflected, that he would have known what that was anyway).

"What are you doing here?"

"Hatching my clever scheme to overthrow the entire House of Gryffindor by Christmas, obviously."

"Yeah, Ron," furthered Fred, "she's also been recruiting us to her evil cause to undermine all things good in the world."

"In that case, she must've been pretty confused when she took down Voldemort.," interjected Hermione, pushing it further with the kind of sly smile one might see on Drisana Malfoy.

"Yeah, that's why she's recruiting us," countered George, "To help her get the mischief and havoc back on track."

By this point, Ron was realizing he was being made a fool of, and chose to stalk away seething to the dorms.

"Okay, well now you have to let us into the Slytherin dungeon," plead George, "we don't even need the password, just let us in once and that's all we need."

Hyacinth cracked, thinking it was only fair for helping her tease their little brother, not knowing about the Great House Prank War of 1963, and how this could very quickly snowball.

Hermione put her head in her hands. "This feels like a mistake, Hya."

"All in good fun," said the twins.

"If Snape skins any or all of you alive for this, I reserve any and all rights to say 'I told you so.'"

"What about the Headmaster?"

"Nah," denied Fred.

"He'd just shake a finger at us disapprovingly in front of McGonagall and Snape, and then give us a lemon drop and ten points for creativity," explained George.

Lavender and Parvati looked terribly excited, especially after they were sworn to absolute secrecy that they mustn't reveal who let Fred and George in.

At dinner that night, everything was normal. Athena was talking about starting a dueling club, but she'd need to get a prefect on board first to get authorization from Dumbledore. Blaise suggested Nymphadora Tonks, a seventh-year Hufflepuff who might help a sweet innocent first-year girl, even if she was a Slytherin.

There was a split second where Hyacinth thought what kind of name is Nymphadora before she remembered that her name was Hyacinth.

"Isn't that the Metamorphmagus?" asked Tracey.

Drisana was staring pointedly at her plate, and Daphne lightly slapped Blaise on the arm and hissed are you stupid.

"Yeah," said Athena, "but maybe we should find someone else."

"No," Drisana said quietly, "I've heard she's a very good duelist, and she's going into the Auror program. You couldn't have a better leader in this school."

Tracey and Hyacinth locked eyes in confusion while everyone else was seeming very resistant to looking in Drisana's direction.

"Alright," said Athena, smiling, "I'll speak with her."

Blaise coughed, and Daphne found at least three new conversation topics.

Hyacinth just wanted to know what a Metamorphmagus was.

"Someone who can change their physical appearance at will, almost without limit as far as I know," answered Daphne later that night in the common room. Drisana had gone to bed early, claiming a headache.

"So why the awkwardness? Don't tell me there's a prejudice against Metamorphwhatevers too."

"There's not," said Theo, "But Blaise is, in fact, stupid. Drisana and Nymphadora Tonks are cousins."

"Oh? Do they not get along?" asked Tracey, who was a pureblood but from a common family, and almost as unaware as Hyacinth about certain things within the elitist pureblood circles.

"They don't know each other," answered Daphne, "Her mother Andromeda and Drisana's mother Narcissa are sisters, but Andromeda went and married a Muggle, and she got disowned. It was a huge scandal, they only barely kept it out of the papers. Makes Drisana uncomfortable because, well, she'd like to know her, she's just not permitted."

"She's not allowed to speak to half-bloods?" asked Hyacinth, a touch of chill in her voice.

"No," said Theo, "It's not considered preferable, but she is allowed to have half-blood friends. Muggleborns would be an entirely different story, but anyways, it's not that Nymphadora's a half-blood, it's more of the fact that if people see them spending time together, they'll think the family's forgiven Andromeda, or accepted it."

Hyacinth imagined a world where she and Duncan did not live together, did not know each other, and were not permitted to, even though they went to the same school, just because of who one of their parents married. It sounded like agony, especially when you didn't have siblings. Which Drisana didn't.

"That's childish," she said.

"It would be unwise to say so too loudly," murmured Theo, before dropping to an even lower pitch, "but I agree."

At least not everyone in the world was crazy. Tracey chewed her lip like she was holding back on saying something, and Daphne pretended she hadn't heard either of them. Theo smiled wryly at her.

Mercifully, by 2am, there was no one in the Slytherin common room, so there was no one to see who granted the Weasley twins entrance.

"If this gets traced back to me," she warned them in a hushed voice, "So help me God I will end the pair of you like I did the Dark Lord." Ignoring the fact that she had no idea how she'd done that.

They nodded, but the grins were still plastered on their faces, so she gave them a good glare for effect, and sent them on their merry way as she crawled back into bed.

In the morning, chaos and mass hysteria.

Well, for starters, all the third-year Slytherin girls woke up bald. That was quite a problem for them, so there was a great deal of screaming and accusing. Additionally, all of the floors, from every dormitory and into the common room, were covered with Muggle plastic cups that refused to be cleared away, but would merely roll around into even bigger messes if one kicked them over or at all attempted to clean up. You can imagine the amount of clumsy students whose bodies and belongings went flying that morning. To top it off, and because it seemed that no one in Gryffindor had any grasp of what it meant to be subtle, a Muggle-style party banner had been hung up across the fireplace in the common room, with big red and gold letters spelling out 'SURPRISE!'. The true shame was that they had hung that one up the old-fashioned way, but after the cup fiasco no one bothered trying to take it down.

It was hard for Hyacinth not to laugh, even as she maneuvered the cups to get dressed. It was only Sunday, so she didn't have to hurry anywhere, but just as she was entering the common room, a sixth-year prefect was showing Snape the damage. He spotted her before she could retreat back to her dorm and hide behind Athena and Drisana.

"Ah, Miss Potter, won't you join us? Mister Flint was just showing me the tomfoolery that has been brought into the Slytherin Dungeon. I don't suppose you might have any plausible hypothesis explaining just what exactly took place?"

"Well, Professor," she began, making her voice as serious as she possibly could, trying to decide if this one pop culture reference was worth gambling her entire life, "it would appear that we've been hit by -no, we've been struck by, a smooth criminal."

There was a pregnant pause, wherein Hyacinth saw her life flash before her eyes as Marcus Flint just stared at her dumbly, and no one spoke.

"I would hardly call the Weasley twins smooth," the Potions Master spat, "but that was well-timed even so. Ten points to Slytherin."

Hyacinth Potter had never felt so invincible in her entire life, even after finding out she blocked a killing curse as an infant.

Okay, so maybe Snape didn't hate her. That was probably only due to her being in Slytherin, but she'd take it. It worked for her.

Since all of her Slytherin friends were pureblood, and so none of them would have spun around their living room listening to Michael Jackson records and CDs, none of them could possibly understand. Hermione, for her part, was awestruck at Hyacinth's apparent immortality.

And Fred and George, well, they had detention due to Professor Snape's severe annoyance at having his eardrums nearly blown out by thirteen-year-old girls demanding hair growth potions now. But she did notice Gryffindor had gained twenty points since last night.

Immediately, a revenge plot hatched in Hyacinth's mind. It wasn't that she felt particularly vengeful, but she did have some House pride, even if she was the one who let the lions in.

And so it was that Hyacinth Potter, Athena Rosier, and Blaise Zabini found themselves creeping through the halls at 5am three nights later (because the idea of being lucky enough for all of Gryffindor to be asleep before 3, even on school nights, was just as laughable as the idea of any of them being out of bed before seven).

"Er, and what if they just scourgify this stuff away?" asked Blaise, carrying a back of various glitters and glitter glues which Hyacinth had requested Duncan to send her via owl immediately.

"Well, theoretically they probably can," she said, "but the point will have been made."

"And what're the balloons for?" he asked as Athena rolled her eyes.

"They're a special Muggle kind that you fill with water, and then they pop when you put pressure on them," answered Hyacinth, "and it's harder to scourgify water because water isn't considered dirty."

"Fighting fire with water," commented Athena with a dry laugh.

Well, the Gryffindors certainly were surprised to wake up to water balloons surrounding them on all sides, and persistent green and silver glitter covering every inch of everything. Perhaps good-naturedly enraged would be more apt.

Most of them had soaking pant legs at the very least by the time they came down to breakfast, and Hyacinth thought she might've seen a brief smile from the Head of Slytherin.

"How long you figure before you get caught?" asked Tracey with a glance of anxiety towards Professor McGonagall.

"Never, if we're smart," countered Athena.

"And besides, if they do, then Snape'll be less likely to figure out who it was that let the Weasleys in," said Theo, side-eyeing the Girl-Who-Lived.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to," replied Hyacinth airily, sipping pumpkin juice.

Theo smirked, rolling his eyes, and pointed out that there weren't very many Slytherins who spent time in Gryffindor Tower.

"Well," reasoned Athena, "At least she made penance."

That was when they were interrupted by Snape.

"Miss Potter, I am required to inform you that the Headmaster would like to see you in his office, immediately following breakfast. The password is licorice. And don't make an embarrassment of your House," snapped the Potions Master before slinking away.

Theo tilted his head. "You've done it now."

"Obviously," Hyacinth muttered, "but where on Earth is Dumbledore's office?"

Flora Carrow, a second-year witch within earshot, offered to show her the way after breakfast. Apparently she needed an excuse to be late to Defense class.

Feeling a bit foolish, she said "licorice" to the stone gargoyle which allegedly guarded the office, and was pleasantly surprised when it leapt out of the way to reveal a spiral staircase that took her up to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk when she entered, and she noticed that the room was filled with all manner of unusual things, most of which she didn't have a name for.

"Miss Potter, please, have a seat."

She sat.

"I imagine you know why I've called you here," began the Headmaster.

"No, sir, not at all," contradicted Hyacinth.

"Ah, it would seem the Weasley twins have corrupted you already."

"I've never met them."

"Yes, just like you've never let them into the Slytherin dungeon? And never filled Gryffindor Tower with glitter and enchanted water balloons?"

"Yes, just like that."

Dumbledore smiled, and there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, in any case, Miss Potter, I am requesting that you and the twins halt this before it gets out of hand."

"I have no idea what you're referring to, Headmaster."

"I suppose you won't mind passing it on to someone who does, then."

"Of course, sir."

"Oh, and, Miss Potter?" The Headmaster sounded almost hesitant.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"You would do well to be mindful of those you associate yourself with."

"Oh, not you too," she groaned. Dumbledore appeared taken aback.

"Have you been given this advice before, Miss Potter?"

"Roughly a thousand times."

The Headmaster blinked.

"Well, then I suppose I don't need to warn you about the potential drawbacks of aligning yourself with some of your young Housemates."

"Wait, my Housemates?"

"Yes? Did you think I was referring to someone else?"

"I must withdraw my earlier statement. I have yet to receive this version of that advice. Please proceed, Headmaster."

The Headmaster inclined his head.

"Miss Potter, there's nothing wrong with Slytherin House. At its best, it is filled with dedicated, focused individuals, who frequently end up successful in their endeavors. However, you must understand that many of those you have been spending time with possess very poisonous ideals."

"I already know all about your wizarding racism, Headmaster."

"Does it not appall you?" asked Dumbledore, seeming appalled at the idea of Hyacinth not being appalled.

"I am very appalled."

"And yet, you tolerate it?"

"For a reason."

"Hm. I suppose I cannot expect much more than that out of a young Slytherin," he said, with an indulgent smile. Hyacinth returned the smile, because there was a certain mysterious charm about that weird old man, as though he was the kind of person you'd quite like to have as a grandfather. And to top the impression off, he offered her a lemon drop.

She took it, feeling the sour candy melt, as he told her she was free to get to class.

A/N: Just a couple of things, here at the end of Chapter Four: First, this story is supposed to balance between humorous and serious. I don't want anybody thinking it's about to veer completely off-track and turn into one of those fics written just to be as comical as humanly possible without any weight to it, even if this chapter got a little ridiculous (although, those are pretty fun, so no shade). Second, I'd appreciate it a lot if any of you that really seem to like the story so far could leave a review, even just a short one, telling me what you liked, what you might not have liked very much (honestly if something felt weird or off to you about the story, either A, it's intentional, or B, it felt weird to me too but I didn't know what to do about it) and what you might like to see explored in the future. Finally, I'd like you to be aware that I intend to make this a pretty long story, ideally spanning til seventh year, which is why I'm updating so frequently now -basically, when I get inspiration for a story, I have to write it as fast as possible before the inspiration leaves me.

Anyway, I don't like to do too many long author's notes like this, so you won't see many more of them, and sorry if you're not somebody who likes them either and I just made you read that whole thing.

Thanks for reading, and reviewing, if you do.