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Polychromatic by HarryPotter is my LIFE
Chapter 59 : Your Teacher Preaches Class Like You're Some Kind of Jerk (Professor Twitchy)
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 31

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But your teacher preaches class like you're some kind of jerk
You gotta fight for your right to party
-Beastie Boys

“To never leaving each other,” said James.
“To friendship for ever,” added Remus.
“To never being alone,” Peter put in.
“To always having fun,” Sirius claimed.
“To living each day like it’s our last; to never growing up” I told them. “Just as we do now.”

Each of our proclamations had reflected what we most needed.

For James, who wasn’t really as strong as he made himself out to be, he needed his friends and family to surround him.

For Remus, who never really thought he’d be able to make friends, knowing that we were there was important.

For Pete - the underdog, the guy who sometimes got shoved under the carpet - knowing that he’d always have someone to back him up and stand up for him made him light up.   

Sirius was like me in the aspect that his life revolved around, first and foremost, having fun; as long as we were together, we could.

And me, finally. If I ever passed on a challenge, ever had any regrets, or ever grew up, I just wasn’t living life how it should be lived.

And even though the Marauders, the dumbarses, had already broken their promise and left Hogwarts to grow up, I knew that we’d all be okay. However, that didn’t stop me from being completely miserable the first day back.

“Anna, stop whining. You saw them seven hours ago,” Darren pointed out.

“Yeah, and you have us,” Stephen said.

“You know I love you guys,” I told them earnestly, “it’s just that Hogwarts isn’t the same without the Marauders.”

Even the boys couldn’t argue with me there. I went back to my food, pushing it around my plate a bit and taking a bite every once in a while. I saw Dora, down the table and motioned for her to join us.

“Had a good few weeks?” I asked her, as she neared.

She nodded excitedly. “Yep. Mum took me to Greece; it’s gorgeous there.”

“Isn’t it?” I said. The hum-drum conversation was going to end in five. . .four. . . three . . . two . . .

“So, how’s Remus?”

Yeah, I’m that good.

“He’s great, and he’s asked me to say hi; and he said he’d probably visit soon.”

“Oh, well that’s nice.” Dora’s nonchalant attitude didn’t fool me, no, sir, I was far too perceptive for that.

“Yes, it is,” I conceded. “Man, you should have come to visit my house over the summer; it would have been fun to go to the beach with you . . . Well, I’ll let you get back to your friends, they’re looking a little impatient.” And they were - across the table, her posse was sending angry, impatient glances towards us.

She gave me a little wave and headed back towards her friends. “Wow, Anna, when did you make hot friends?” Stephen waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What, you mean the Marauders aren’t hot?”

Stephen laughed. “Well, I’ll admit that Remus is something, but the rest of them . . .”

Even Darren laughed at this, but the little twinge of nostalgia dampened my mood.

“Hey, I’ll see you guys later,” I told Darren and Stephen (who were quickly becoming buddy-buddy) and decided to head up towards the common room. However, once I left the Great Hall, I was faced with A dilemma. I no longer had a dorm.

My Marauders were gone. I certainly couldn’t go back to my old, old dorm. And rooming with Darren, Stephen, and the rest of the Gryffindor boys seemed much more slutty and much less platonic than it had with the Marauders.

As you can see, I was at a crossroad. I was still pondering my problem when a smooth, buoyant voice called, “Oi, did you miss me?”

“Sirius!” I cried. I spun around to face Sirius, who was waiting for me with his arms spread wide open. I leaped into his arms and clung tightly to his neck.

He laughed and held tight. “Didn’t you just see me, like, a few hours ago?”

“Yes, yes, yes and I missed you so, so, so much!” I still held on to Sirius.

After half a minute of me not letting go, Sirius forcibly removed me from himself. “What are you doing here?” I asked excitedly. “Did you fail and have to come back for another year?” The idea of Sirius failing a class had never gotten me so excited. “Did you bring the guys with you?”

“Full moon, no, and yes.”

For the first time, I looked outside and noticed that it was indeed full moon. “So you guys are going back to the Shrieking Shack?”       

He nodded. “James and Peter are handling Remus for now; I told them I’d meet them. I just couldn’t be so close without coming to say ‘hi’ to my favourite little Seventh year.”

I grinned hugely. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome, aren’t I? Oh, so you wouldn’t believe it! Darren and Stephen are friends!”

Sirius looked at me funny. “Actually, I totally do believe it.”

I was kind of disappointed that Sirius had expected this and I hadn’t.

“ . . . Oh . . . So did you know that I no longer have anywhere to sleep?”

Sirius’ mouth opened in amused shock. “Oh, yeah! I completely forgot! Haha, what’re you going to do now? Maybe you could try moving back into your old dorm?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Fat fucking chance!” My mind briefly travelled back to the time that I had lived there, and the girl I had been best friends with for, like, a day. (Admittedly, maybe a few weeks.) But I hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms, and moving back there wasn’t an option.

“Hold on a tick! Where’s my stuff?”

Sirius looked curiously at me. “My stuff,” I repeated. “Dumbledore had it sent up to your dorm last year, so where the hell is it now?”

“Oh,” Sirius shrugged. “I dunno, why don’t you go ask Dumbles; maybe it’ll solve the age old question of where you’re going to crash for the rest of the year.”

“Come with?” I asked, making my way back towards the Great Hall.

Sirius glanced quickly at his watch and pulled a face. “Yeah, why the hell not? I’ve got a few rounds to make anyway.”

We entered the Great Hall again and Sirius was immediately dragged from my side by excited old friends who hadn’t seen him in a while. I nudged Darren and Stephen on my way past them and pointed Sirius out, before continuing towards Dumbledore.

I interrupted the conversation that the Headmaster was having with Minnie. “’Scuse me, professor. Erm, where’s my stuff?”

“Pardon, Miss Xanthis?” he turned away from Minnie and looked inquisitively at me.   

Damn, that’s a cool fricking eye color, I thought, when I looked at Dumbledore’s shockingly blue eyes.

“Erm, my stuff. Last year it was in the Marauders' dorm, and this year, well, it’s not.”   

“Ah, yes, you do seem to have a dilemma. I decided, Miss Xanthis, that since you’ve already broken a fair share of rules over the years, a few more couldn’t hurt. I’ve had the house elves leave your belongings in the common room; it’s up to your where you’d like to stay.”

“Er, thank you, professor.”

Okay, well, that’s good, now I’ve just got to go collect Sirius and -

“Miss Xanthis?” I turned around to face Dumbledore once again. “Sometimes it’s best to do what we don’t want to.”

I smiled nervously and nodded before turning around again. What is that old coot on about now?

I headed back over to Darren and Stephen, where they were having a chin wag with Sirius.

Sirius saw me coming and smiled brilliantly at me. “I’ve got to go, love, but I’ll visit soon, alright?” I nodded and buried my face in his chest, hugging him tight.

“Don’t go,” I mumbled. “I miss you lots.”

“I’ve got to go.” He gently removed my arms that had been clasped tightly around him. “James’ll be completely knackered by the time I get there.”

I pouted and bid him goodbye.

When Sirius was completely out of the Great Hall, Darren rounded on me immediately. “You still fancy him!”

“I do not!” It was my immediate reaction; his conclusion in no way reflected the truth. In fact, I didn’t even know what the truth was. But the truth had to wait -

“Wait! . . . Still?! What the bloody hell have I missed while I was gone?” Stephen cried, looking wildly and confusedly from me to Darren.

“A lot, my friend, quite a lot.” Darren answered, throwing his arm over his new mate’s shoulder.                                       

“Holy crap! I can’t believe I missed all that!” Darren, Stephen and I were all lounging around in the common room. It was two in the morning, and we’d finally gotten done recapping the past year. Luckily, Darren left out all the gory details of my relationships with him and Sirius. Good thing, too; his bollocks were on the line.

Not that Darren didn’t explain in further detail as soon as they scampered up to the dorm - I’m sure he did - but he was at least sensible enough not to do it in front of me.

So, by two in the morning, I still had no place to sleep. I declined Darren and Stephen’s invitation to retreat up to the dorm with them, and decided to zonk out on the couch for the night.

Darren and Stephen shook me awake next morning. I woke up to near silence, except for the two twats who decided to wake me up at five in the morning. Five!

“Why the hell are you awake? And why the hell did you have to wake me up?” I groaned, punching the air around me ‘cause I couldn’t see their faces through my bleary eyes.

“What’s got you so narked?” Darren asked. I could tell he was smirking, even though I could barely see the contours of his face. I just knew it.

“Because you told me that it’s five in the morning! Bloody five! And it’s not even a fucking school day!”

Darren and Stephen giggled like schools girls.

“Oh, bugger it.” I grabbed the blanket I had slept with last night and stomped up the staircase to the Seventh year girls’ dormitory. I quietly opened the door and tiptoed in before collapsing on the fluffy white carpet in the middle of the room, wrapped in my blanket.

I was lying with my eyes closed, trying to sleep, when I heard a creaking from one of the beds surrounding me.

“Shit,” I whispered, and quickly rolled under the nearest bed. I lay there silently until the unnerving sound proved only to be someone tossing in their sleep. However, I stayed under, just to be sure. Soon enough, I had fallen asleep.

It was far more bright and loud in the room when I awoke the second time. It took me quite a bit to figure out where I was. Luckily, the bed clothes hung over and covered anything under the bed, specifically, me.

Bugger, now I’ve got to wait until they all leave, I thought. Well, at least I finished sleeping.

However, it proved to be a very interesting hour or so.

“So, Bria, did you see who’s back?” asked one of my former dorm mates. I chanced a peak out from under the bed, and identified her bleach blond head as Connie.

Two squeals from above let me know that Gryffindor’s resident gossips were in the house; Alice and Elena.

“Do you mean Stephen?” I could only conclude that the dismissive answer came from the lip gloss-caked mouth of Bria, my one-week-long best friend from First year.

Ooo, so she likes Stephen, does she?

“No, I mean Mickey Mouse.” Connie’s sarcasm amused me. She definitely was not that sarcastic when she was still my roommate.       

I heard Bria scoff. “Yes, I saw that he was back.” A long pause. “He was hanging with Darren-”

Bria was cut off by a shrill pair of giggles from Alice and Elena.

“-and Anastasia.” She said my name with such distain that I wanted to laugh. I refrained, however, because that probably would have given me away.

So, she hates me, does she? I wonder why . . .

“Well, I can’t tell you that you hate her at all,” Connie remarked. Sarcasm again. I heard a clinking sound; it sounded like two ink bottles falling into a bag. 

“I don’t hate her,” Bria replied snootily. “I just strongly dislike her, and her goddamn arrogance . . . Pardon my French. And what about her chest? It’s the size of Europe; she’s such a whore . . . Pardon my French, again.”

Pardon her French? Pardon my foot up her arse!

I could practically feel Connie rolling her eyes; I couldn’t tell for sure, but I would’ve bet one-thousand galleons on it.

It was silent for a few minutes until I heard a shrill voice say, “Has anyone seen my pink thong? That cute little one with all the pink hearts and the white pom-pom on the back?”

And I couldn’t take it anymore. There was no way I could hear about Alice’s (or Elena’s - I couldn’t distinguish between the two) pink-hearted, white-pom-pommed thong and not laugh.

It was a quick, quiet little snort of laughter, but it put Connie on the radar.

“What was that?” she said sharply. The rest of the girls in the room went quiet.

Oh, shit. It’s okay, you’re not caught yet . . . Maybe they won’t look under the bed.

“I think it came from under your bed, Connie.”

Damn whoever just suggested looking under Connie’s bed!

Quick search your pockets! Find your wand!

I thrust my hand into the pocket of my sweats and found something soft, squishy, and wrapped in plastic.

A dungbomb!

I heard someone drop to their knees very close by.

Okay . . . Here goes!

I chucked the dungbomb, praying to Godric that it caused a sufficient distraction - it did.

It ended up hitting whoever had gone to look under the bed; I don’t know who, I was too intent on getting out. Four shrill screams filled the room, and cries of disgust.

I had to hold my nose to keep from gagging; the dungbomb must have been rather old; it was particularly potent.

Despite the nauseating smell, I stayed hidden under Connie’s bed until I heard the bathroom door slam. Then, I quickly scrambled out from under the bed and shot across the room to the door. From inside the bathroom, I could still hear whining and cries of disgust. I was about to burst out of the room and down the stairs when my stomach convulsed.

Oh, fuck.

I puked all over the floor.

Ugh, gross.

Apparently, I was a mean person. However, I must not’ve been as mean as Bria seemed to think. Before I continued my get-away, I cleaned up the disgusting mess of digested food. After all evidence of my stay in the room was gone, I split and closed the door tightly behind me.

I took a deep breath, and sighed.

Wow. I sure dodged a bullet there . . . Eww . . . I need a shower.

As I was trotting down the stairs (with intentions of breaking into Darren’s and Stephen’s dorm - decency be damned) when it occurred to me that the smart person’s way of getting the remainder of my sleep would have been to go to Dora’s dormitory.

Well, you never were exactly a smart one, were you, Anna?

No, sir.

I smiled to myself as I burst into the boys’ dormitory. Luckily, there was no one in there.

I skipped happily into the bathroom and stripped down before jumping in the shower.

Ha. Haha. Ha. I think I like it when people hate me.

Yeah, I agree; it’s fun.

The slippery bar of soap shot out of my hand, rebounded against the tiled wall and hit me in the head.

Holy crap! You agree? It’s a fricking miracle!

However, the rest of my conversation with myself was cut short when the bathroom door burst open.

It was Darren, standing, with his hand still on the door knob, and completely shocked.

This happens way too often.

“Shit!” he cried, and slammed the door shut.

I sighed, sniffed myself once (to make sure the scent of the dungbomb was completely gone) and stepped out of the shower, onto the soft, red rug. I quickly conjured up a toothbrush and got rid of the vomit taste in my mouth, before I pulling a towel from the towel rack, wrapped it around myself, and stepped out into the dormitory.

Poor Darren was curled up on his bed, waiting for me to walk out. Stephen was sprawled out on the floor, laughing his arse off.

“This happens way too often,” I remarked, laughing.

Darren immediately came out of the little fetal position he had created. “Oh, thank God you’re laughing; I thought you’d not take it quite this well, seeing as it’s almost happened before, and all.”

From the floor, Stephen gave a particularly loud hoot.

“Hey, who’re you talking to? Me! There’s way more important things to worry about. Now, scram, so I can put - oh, crap! I have no clothes. Who wants to donate to the ‘Anna needs clothes fund?’”

Stephen was no help; either he found the situation that amusing, or some other funny thing had happened, and Darren and I missed it.

Darren got up, and leisurely walked towards his trunk, before pulling out a pair of pants, a shirt, and a tie.

Well, if there’s one thing about him that hasn’t changed, it’s the way he walks.

He always took his time, and walked in a calm, collected manner. It was one of the only semblances of his old self. Once I had the clothes in my hand, Darren practically had to drag Stephen out of the room; he couldn’t walk - he was still laughing.       

I quickly dressed and threw the towel across the room; not my room, not my problem. By the time I got down to the common room, found my shoes, and put them on, Stephen had finally stopped laughing.

“Are you ready to come back to the big kids world now?” I asked the red-faced, smiling boy.
He seemed to have glued his mouth shut, and slowly moved his head up and down. However, with another glance at me and Darren, he burst out laughing again.

I sighed.

“Sorry,” he gasped, trying to hold back his laughter long enough to explain. “It’s just that I haven’t had a proper laugh like that in an entire year. Imagine being stuck in Antarctica with your parents, and seven Eskimos. It wasn’t fun.”

Darren was shaking his head. “Eskimos don’t live in Antarctica . . . Only in northern Canada, Alaska, Greenland, and eastern Siberia.”

Darren and those obscure facts that he knows . . . He knows too much.

Stephen refused to believe Darren’s fact-i-ness. “Nope, they were Eskimos.”

“Eskimos don’t live in Antarctica.”

“Yes, they do.”       

Stephen was even more stubborn and immature than I remembered him to be . . . It was pretty cool.

“So, what shall we do today?” I asked, kicking my feet up on the couch after crashing down onto it.

Darren raised his eyebrows at cocked his head at me. “I don’t now . . . How about go to class?”

“Why would I do that? It’s Saturday,” I answered.

“No, it’s Tuesday.”

Well, that’s news to me.

“Is it really?”

Darren nodded; so did Stephen.

“Oh, fuck. Alright, let me grab my bag and we’ll go . . . Oh, it’s right here. Okay, let’s go to breakfast.

“So, what do you blokes feel like having today?” As I walked, I kept having a problem with Darren’s pants; unlike the pairs of Sirius’ pants that I had stolen and shrunk, these were quite long, and quite big around the waist.

“Stop, stop,” I instructed them. Darren and Stephen both stopped and turned around at exactly the same time. And that was the first time I noticed how similar they looked.

They both had sandy coloured hair; in some lights it looked brown, in other it looked blonde. Both had a sort of muted blue eye-colour, with thick lashes that any girl would be envious of. Stephen was a bit stockier than Darren, but not by much; he was perhaps a few centimetres shorter, and may have outweighed Darren by a stone, or two. But even their facial structure - a rather pointed jaw (as opposed to the squared-off jaw that I was so used to seeing on Sirius and Damon) and high cheekbones - were similar.

“What?” Darren asked. I realized that it was perhaps the second or third time he’d tried to get my attention, but I’d been distracted with my realization.

“Er, I need someone to shrink my pants for me; I forgot how to do it.”

Darren pulled out his wand, muttered something under his breath, and I felt the pants shrinking, and shrinking until they were comfortably snug.

“Thanks, Darren. You know, you’re always good for obscure information - like Eskimos and clothes-shrinking.”

And it was true. Darren seemed to have a knack for remembering things that really made no difference in life (as well as things that did.) He was fairly brilliant, which was something I’d come to notice over the past year of knowing him. He was like the Marauders; effortlessly brilliant, with no intention of doing work.

Just so you know the extent of how blood brilliant Darren is - an ‘O’ on all of his end-of-term exams last year, and not even five minutes of revising.

I hadn’t revised for the tests at all, either, but my grades were mostly ‘A’ with a ‘P’ and an ‘O’ thrown in.

The ‘O’ was in History of Magic.

. . . Don’t judge me.
“Let’s have waffles today,” Darren decided.

“Ooo, yes, waffles.” As soon as Darren had said it, I was in the mood for it.

Delicious, buttermilk waffles - on the inside, they were fluffy - on the outside, crisped with butter; you could break one in half because of that deliciously crunchy outer shell. Hogwarts waffles never flopped like some of the lower-grade ones.

Darren liked to put syrup on his waffles, a few drops in each little hole. I liked to put extra butter on mine, then, I’d cover half in whipped cream. The other half I’d leave with just the butter, because I could never decide which I liked better. Then, a bite of Darren’s syrupy waffles always rounded off breakfast.

Stephen liked . . .

Actually, I don’t know what Stephen likes. We were still in our pancake phase when he was hanging with us.

Yes, breakfast phases were a staple with me and the Marauders.

My first year (their second), we always had toast with peanut butter and bananas for breakfast.

Second year, it was fruit salad, with a top layer of sugar, to make sure it was sweet enough. Complimented, of course, with bacon and sausage.

Third year, it was pancakes.

Fourth year, it was sesame bagels and cream cheese.

For Fifth year and most of Sixth year, we’d returned to pancakes.

However, the end of last year, and this year, waffles were our breakfast of choice . . . They were just so good.  So as we headed down the Great Hall, I had quite a hard time believing that my morning could get better, but as Darren, Stephen and I walked towards the middle of the table, which would become our customary seat throughout the year, I saw Sirius.

This time, though, I contained my excitement, and didn’t scream and run across the remainder of the Great Hall . . . However, I did plop down excitedly next to him on the bench. “Sirius, thank Godric you’re back!” I cried dramatically.

“Overdramatic, much?”

Perhaps he hadn’t picked up on that intentional melodrama I’d thrown in there for fun?   

“Not at all!” I yelled. I returned to a lower volume before explaining, “Darren and Stephen are becoming best mates, and I’m going to end up being the third wheel when they go gay for each other.

“And the worst part is that they’ll be gay, so I can’t even join them for a threesome.”

Very funny words came out of my mouth . . . Very funny. But I didn’t find it quite as funny when Sirius burst out laughing, and the orange juice he’d been drinking shot out of both his nose and his mouth. And onto me.

So, I was sticky and orange.

“You’re just lucky it didn’t come out of his eyes,” Darren said, sitting on the other side of Sirius.

I picked up a cloth from the table, and glared at Dora, who was sitting across and a little bit down, and had seen the scene and was laughing at me.

“That can’t happen,” I insisted, and then demanded that Sirius use some type of ‘post-Hogwarts-smarty-pants’ magic to clean me off.

“Oh, it actually can; it’s just very, very rare.”
I stared at Darren. Outwardly, it was a blank stare - on the inside, it was rather deadly. Silence. And then . . . “Why the hell would you tell me that?!”

He shrugged, and forked a few waffles onto his plate. This crisp sound they made when the fork went through them expanded my appetite ten-fold. I was just about to get some waffles for myself (first, I reached for the homemade whipped cream and scooped a giant spoonful into my mouth) when Sirius grabbed my wrist and said, “Anna, there’s this thing I have to do in the Hospital Wing. Come with me?”

I pulled a face. “The Hospital Wing? Why would I want to go there?” Psh, Sirius knew I hated that place.

“Because I have to do something there,” he insisted, winking quite obviously.

I didn’t know exactly what he was getting at until he whispered, “Remus.”
“Ohhh! Oh! Yeah, sure, I’ll come with you.”

I grabbed two waffles (they were the large kind - the kind that took up the entire waffle iron) and dunked them into the tub of whipped cream, earning a glare from none other than my old friend Bria, as I did so.

She glared at me.

I laughed. “Sorry.” It was quite obvious that I didn’t really mean it. But, honestly, all I did was dunk my waffles - it wasn’t as if I’d bitten them.

I followed Sirius off to the Hospital Wing, where a small section in the back was curtained off, and inside the curtain, I could hear the voices of the other Marauders.

“Hey, guys,” I called happily across the room. I saw James and Pete’s heads peer around the curtain, and they smiled happily as well.

“Hey, there, Anna! How’s our favourite Seventh year?” James asked, coming out from around the curtain. There was a large gash on his arm; it looked shallow, but ran the entire length from his wrist to his elbow. The blood had mostly crusted around the edges of the injury, but there was a small amount of blood still secreting from the narrow slice.

“Wondering what the hell you guys got up to last night,” I answered.

I started making my way towards the curtain. “Where’s Pomfrey?” I asked.

“She’s out,” Pete answered, sticking his head around the curtain once again. “We had to tell her that we got hurt and cuts and stuff from messing around in the Shrieking Shack after Moony changed back. She was pissed . . . Imagine how much worse it would’ve been if we told her what we were really up to.”

Yeah, she probably would have flipped her lid. And her lid is heavy. And it would have landed on top of all four boys and smushed them.

When I walked around the curtain, I saw Remus, still asleep, and was forced into a state of shock. His face looked just like James’ arm, except there were lots of mini versions of that cut all over his face. His hair was wet and slicked back and there were shards of glass stuck in his shirt.

“What the hell happened to him?” I cried. Some of his wounds still hadn’t clotted yet; I could smell that rusty metallic scent.

“There was an incident with him smashing a head through a window. . . Five times,” Sirius answered, coming up behind me. “. . . My head.”

“Then how in the world did he get messed up that badly?”

“Oh, well, that’s what happened when I smashed his head through the window.”

“Sirius!” I cried. “You dumbarse!”

Good thing Pomfrey wasn’t in the infirmary; both Sirius and I tended to get loud when we got overexcited. This often happened during arguments, story-telling, and during any sort of Quidditch.

“What?! He did it first,” Sirius insisted. He gestured to his face and only when I looked closely did I notice thin, faint scars all of his face, and a slightly more noticeable one on his neck.

“That doesn’t matter,” I insisted. “You knew what you were doing. And look what you did to the poor bloke!” I gestured wildly to the still-bleeding boy. Because that’s what they all were - they were still eighteen, and just boys. “And why hasn’t anyone healed him?”

Sirius seemed to be full of answers that day. “Well, the last two times we went to heal him immediately after, his body had a really bad effect to it . . . The injuries just got worse. So we’ve started to wait twenty-four hours before healing, and we told Pomfrey that.”

But, they’ve always healed Remus immediately after, before that, right? Like that time he ran into the Whomping Willow . . . That was a funny story . . . Hehe.

But I decided not to question the ways of medicine and magic; I understood neither. But after a glance at my watch I did understand that I had to be back in the Great Hall to collect Darren and Stephen before classes started.

“You should have him talk to Dora when he gets better,” I suggested. “But I’ve got to go. Now, make sure you come and visit me again, soon.

“Otherwise, I’ll kick all your arses.”

I bid goodbye to my recuperating friends and began to make my way back to the Great Hall to get my courses for the year.

I was sliding down the banister (of the non-moving staircase - don’t worry, I’m not that stupid) when I heard a sharp voice say, “Miss! Get down from there immediately!”

I didn’t recognize the voice at all - her command sounded like Minnie, but her voice didn’t. Besides, it couldn’t have been Minnie, as she always called me ‘Miss Xanthis.’

So, curious, I hopped down onto the staircase, landed wrong and consequently rolled my ankle. This is because I’m a dumbarse.

“Miss! That is against the rules! Strictly forbidden!” The woman that was hurrying towards me was tall and frail looking. Her skin had a rather weathered look to it, and her grey hair was tightly curled in an afro-like hair-do around her head. Her dress robes-

Dress robes? What kind of old lady wears dress robes to be in the same vicinity as rebellious teen students who don’t give a flying fuck about anything?

-were puce and disgusting.


“Er, but Minnie let’s me do it all the time!” I tried. Something told me that this lady wouldn’t care, but until I knew who she was, and what the hell she was doing undermining Minnie’s authority like that, she was going to get it.

The lady looked not only confused but mortally offended - I had no idea why. “Who’s Minnie?”

“Professor McGonagall,” I explained.

She gasped - gosh, over dramatic much? “How dare you address a teacher in such a manner!”

I shrugged. “Minnie let’s me do it.”

And then the horror-lady ran her eyes up and down me. “And your attire is inappropriate for school. The school uniform is a plain set of black robes, a white, button down shirt, a tie of your house colors, and a pleated skirt, at least as long as-”

I interrupted her. “Pants are also an option in the uniform.”

“For boys only.”

“That’s not how Minnie says it.”

So, me and ugly-horror lady had a staring contest. Well, not exactly, but that’s what it felt like.

“You will change your attire to something gender-appropriate,” grey-ugly-horror lady demanded.

Who the hell does she think she is?

“Make me.”

. . . Not the best idea?

. . . Perhaps, not.

And then, volcano-grey-ugly-horror lady blew her top. “That is it!” With a furious swish of her wand that witch had me in a skirt, and a shirt that was intended for girls, and a tie that was intended for girls (it was shorter and more narrow than the boys’ tie.) The black sandals I had been wearing were immediately a pair of patent leather, one-inch heels . . . As if I didn’t have enough trouble walking in a straight line as it was.

I found myself being dragged by the ear. My twinging ankle throbbed even more as I pounded down the steps as quickly as the bitchy-volcano-grey-ugly-horror lady could move her skinny little legs.

I was still whining and protesting as I was dragged into the Great Hall by my ear.

Bitch, I thought scathingly.

“Help!” I whined to Darren and Stephen as I was dragged past them.

All they did was laugh; those bastards didn’t even get up to help me.

When I was finally brought to a stop and released in front of the staff table, I was so furious that I rounded on this random lady who thought she could come in and run the castle, and screamed, “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

Above me, Minnie put her forehead into her hand and shook it sadly.

Raising an eyebrow, she answered me. “I’m Professor Tsacria - your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”           



“I can already see that you will be quite a trouble-maker, Miss . . .”

I considered being compliant and telling her my name - honestly, I did. But I just figured that since I’d already dug myself a hole so deep, that there was no climbing out, and meanwhile, I’d just dig it deeper; that way I’d have a nice pool if it rained.

So, I just glared defiantly at her.

“Xanthis,” Minnie offered.

Damn you, Minnie! You’re ruining my plan!

“Well, then, Miss Xanthis, let’s start off this year with a week’s worth of detention - Monday through Sunday - for your earlier disregard of the rules.”

Not bad . . . A surprisingly light sentence.

“A week for your inappropriate attire, and another two weeks for your disgustingly disrespectful manner of addressing authority.”

Okay, maybe it was the opposite of a light sentence . . . A
fucking ridiculous sentence!

I stood there, shaking and seething. I was in a skirt -what else did that lady have to do to me?!

Behind ‘Twitchy,’ (as I’d so lovingly decided to call her, seeing as her eye twitched when she was angry) Minnie’s eyes had widened and she was waving her hands wildly at me . . . Probably to get me to act reasonable and not blow-up.

But there was no need; I was done with Twitchy for the day. I stomped angrily on the small heel of my shoe and gained quite a few weird stares. However, eventually, the heel popped off; I picked it up and handed it to Twitchy, before spinning on the one heel I had left and marching away in a very stoic manner, albeit, very unevenly.

I sat down angrily next to Darren and Stephen, clenched my teeth, and counted to ten with my eyes closed. It never really dissipated my anger, but it usually helped quell my urge to throw things.

“Fucking Twitchy,” I muttered. I pulled my wand out of my pocke-

Wait. Shit. Where the fuck is my bloody wand! Bloody hell! Damn all life forms to hell! And may every one burn and get run over by a giant bloody wheel. Argh!

My wand had been in the back pocket of my pants, which were no longer on me; my initial thoughts may have been a tad over dramatic, (alright, perhaps it was more than a tad,) but I was already in a foul mood.

“What’s wrong?” Stephen asked, when I began frantically patting myself, trying to find the wand.

I growled at him. Like, a real growl; that tended to happen every once in a while.

“Jeese, no need to be snarky.”

“You’d be snarky, too, if some twitchy old lady put you in a dress and nicked your wand,” I spat. “Which reminds me. . .”

I got up again and reluctantly headed Twitchy. I barley had to go a few metres before I saw her twirling my wand casually around her fingers.

Stupid, twitchy bitch.

I stomped angrily again, and turned around again.

“Fix this,” I demanded angrily, pointing to the one heel remaining.

“You should learn how to do these yourself,” Darren suggested. However, he still pulled out his wand and helped me out. “Removeo calcem.”

I was a bit shocked when the heel of my shoe disappeared and the heel of my foot fell to the ground. So shocked, in fact, that I tumbled backwards. I was mid-fall when I remembered a great tragedy - I had no underwear on, and I was in a skirt.

When I’d taken a shower earlier that morning, I hadn’t had any of my own fresh clothes to put on, and figured that I could pull off going commando on the bottom for a day. That, of course, had been when I’d been wearing pants. Now that I was in a skirt-

Thank you, Twitchy - go to hell!

-I was not faring so lucky.

I snapped my legs together before I hit the ground and my entire nether region was exposed to the Great Hall. I sprung quickly back up to my feet; I needed my wand.

And, more importantly, I needed underwear.

I glanced at the table and saw Twitchy watching me, still. I sat casually down and whispered to Stephen out of the side of my mouth. “Okay, now give me your wand.”

He looked reluctant, and I could just imagine the rampant scenes in his head, of the havoc I could be causing with it. Nevertheless, he handed it over. I turned it over quickly in my hands; it was much longer than mine, and fairly heavier as well. I knew it wouldn’t work for me as well as my own wand did, but for the simple task I needed to perform, it would be good enough.

“Accio wand,” I whispered, pointing Stephen’s wand discreetly at Twitchy.

. . . Perhaps that was a bad idea, not that I hadn’t already had a life’s worth in that day .

. . About one-hundred wands came flying at my head.


I ducked and covered my head with my hands, as did Darren and Stephen. All the wands clattered around us and on top of us. All eyes were on me - the idiot with the wand in her hand.

But I didn’t have time to help sort them out. I had to escape before Twitchy gave me another detention. I got up and began sprinting from the room. (Thankfully the skirt, which went down to my knees, was passably covering up everything that needed to be covered until I could get into a pair of underwear.)

“Accio my wand,” I said, this time more specific. A single wand came flying up from the pile and flew into my hand; I was still running out of the Great Hall.

“Miss Xanthis, you stop! Immediately!

Haha. Yeah fricking right.

Darren and Stephen had gotten up as well, and were loyally following me out of the Hall.

When I’d safely gotten out, we’d hidden in a passage way - I would have bet millions of galleons that Twitchy had no idea that there were any secrets passages in the castle, let alone that one.

The first thing I needed was to magic myself a pair of underwear.

How did I know the spell by heart?

. . .

Okay, fine, so that wasn’t the first time I was caught in a situation without underwear when I really should have been wearing them . . . What can I say? I like the freedom.

“Stupid, stupid Twitchy,” I muttered.

“What the hell happened? You weren’t in any trouble at all, or any bad mood this morning when you left?” Stephen commented. I couldn’t see anything in the passageway; it was the really, really dark one.

So, I began to explain about the random lady - Twitchy - and all the things I’d apparently done wrong that I’d been getting away with for years.

“Oh, by the way,” Darren said, handing me something. “Minnie came with our courses while you were at the Hospital Wing. We have Double Defence first . . . With some new lady called Professor Tsacnia. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

Have I said ‘fuck my life’ lately?

Well, I’ll say it, just to be sure..

Fuck my life.

A/N: Hehe. :D I was reading up on some British slang (‘cause that sort of thing entertains me) as I was writing the beginning of this chapter up and couldn’t resist slipping some in whenever I got the chance.

A/N2: And, of course, credit for Anna’s ‘foot up her arse’ comment is the Briticized version of Red Forman’s (That 70’s Show) ‘foot in ass’ phrase. I had to credit that - I’d be the Antichrist if I tried to take credit for that Godly phrase. :D       

A/N3: For anyone who was wondering, all of the random facts that Darren spits out throughout the chapter are actually true, including the one about stuff being able to come out of your eyes.

A/N4: Thank you, Tara.Seanan. :D

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