True Confessions of a H.A.G.

Chapter Three: Of Prefects and Potions

2 September 1996

Dear Diary,

As soon as Hermione fainted, I knew something had to be wrong with my choice of House. And when I got to the Slytherin table, well, they didn't bother hiding their disgust. I suppose it had to do with what that Avery girl said. She was actually the one gaping at me throughout the rest of the Sorting. She and her friend, Delia Nott. The two of them stared at me through the entire meal, even.

I must admit that I can't hide the fact that I'm a little...scared. There. I wrote it, okay? Luckily, Avery and Nott are the only other first year Slytherin girls this year... I wouldn't be able to stand more. I suppose I'll have to stay away from them. All of the Slytherins... they look like a nasty bunch. I think Nott has a brother in the sixth year. He and these other two boulders glared at me the whole time.

Back when we were little, Hermione told me to ignore those who block my way. So for once, I think I'll do that. She says I've always been a hag. Maybe I should act like one.

Yours,

Helen

Helen put her quill down and sighed, closing the leather-bound book that was her diary. It was an outcast, just like her, in this isolated world that was Slytherin. She had received it last Christmas from her aunt who lived in Canada, and the front had a picture of a moose and pine trees around a lake. Helen used to wish she could visit that scene in the picture, but now, it seemed contaminated... or, as the Slytherins said, Mudblood.

But she couldn't regret her choice now. Helen of Troy did not back down and neither did Helen Amanda Granger. The prefect, Patricia or something like that, had told the first years to meet her in the common room after half an hour. Supposedly, they were waiting for Malfoy, the other prefect. According to the conversation Helen had heard, the sixth year prefects were the only Slytherin prefects worth listening to; the others were just moving heaps of rubbish.

By the time Helen had made her ways through the crooked dungeon passageways that housed the Slytherin dormitories, everyone else was already seated on a leather couch or chair near the fire, which was the only source of light in the room besides a few sad-looking torches. Avery and Nott looked up and sneered, and the boys didn't even grace Helen with a glance. Patricia or whatever her name was stood next to the mantle, frowning, her mouth twisted into a scowl. Helen thought she looked rather unpleasant, but she knew that with a little make-up... Helen shook the thought out of her head.

She almost didn't notice Malfoy in the shadows. It was his hair that gave him away. Helen felt very stupid, standing in front of Malfoy with hair just like his, and no Hermione to help her put it back to normal. "So," Malfoy said lightly, his feelings not evident in his tone, "we find the first Muggle-born to be Sorted into Slytherin after thirty years has been Sorted today. Quite a surprise that it was Helen Granger."

Helen thought it was quite a surprise Malfoy had even bothered to learn her name, but she didn't say anything. Malfoy stepped out of the shadows, and Helen knew his eyes burned with anger, perhaps because of her. She had read enough magazines about emotions in boys to know. "Granger," Malfoy barked, "do you know why no Muggle-born has been Sorted into Slytherin for thirty years?"

Helen blinked. He was talking as if it were her fault or something. She saw out of the corner of her eye a boy nudge another boy and smirk, as if she and Malfoy were some kind of entertainment. "Maybe because they didn't want to come here," she sniffed acidly. "I mean, look at the interior decorating. The housekeeping magazines out there would freak. God..."

Malfoy just stared at her in apparent shock. Then there was a soft tinkering noise, and Helen realized it was someone giggling. She detested that kind of giggling. The revulsion was made worse when a corpulent girl with too much make-up and stretched-tight robes heaved herself from a couch and gazed adoringly at Malfoy, who clearly had the same opinion about the girl as Helen. "She's got Granger's sharp wit," the girl said.

"I can tell, Millicent," Malfoy snapped.

A boy who looked like Draco's twin with brown hair and blue eyes stood up from his chair. "No need to be rude, Draco," he said softly. "Not to the Mudblood or Millicent."

"You're being rude by calling me a Mudblood," Helen pointed out.

The boy chuckled. "Well, she is clever."

"I believe we have established that point, Zabini," Malfoy gritted out. "No need to repeat it."

"That's not how you talk to family," Zabini said in mock earnest.

"You're barely family. A second cousin is hardly family," Malfoy drawled. He and Zabini glared at each other for a moment before Malfoy turned away. "Pansy," he snapped, "what are we having this meeting for anyway?"

"Well, the first years need..." Pansy said nervously, as if unsure Malfoy would take this well.

She was right. Malfoy did not take the comment well at all. "What the bloody first years need? Pansy, may I remind you that we were dumped in the Great Hall for an hour before the prefects remembered that they had to lead us to the common room? Now you want to give the first years a tour?" he hissed. "Why don't we give them two million Galleons apiece while we're at it?"

Zabini snorted. "You could actually do that."

Both Pansy and Malfoy ignored him. Pansy looked nervous, but she said weakly, "It's our responsibility as prefects..."

"Our responsibility?" Malfoy said incredulously. "Parkinson, are you turning Gryffindor on us, or is it just me?"

Pansy gulped. "No," she said quietly. She glared at the first years. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get back to your dormitories!"

***

Helen opened her eyes the next morning feeling nervous. Avery and Nott had not said a word last night as they got ready for bed; all of them had been rather frightened at the prospect that Malfoy was annoyed with the first years. But she could already hear the two girls giggling about something as they left the room, which was surely a bad sign for her.

"So... it's our little resident Mudblood," Theodore Nott said, sneering down at Helen as she entered the common room. Malfoy waved at him to join him and the two boulders, and Nott complied, giving Helen one last smirk.

It was after the entrance (a damp, stone wall that concealed a stone door) closed behind the sixth year boys when Helen realized she had no idea how to get to the Great Hall from there. She hadn't really paid attention to Pansy the night before, and Hermione had always told her it was very easy to get lost in Hogwarts. Most of Slytherin was already at breakfast, and the few Slytherins still in the common room were skipping it.

Nevertheless, Helen tried to get one of them to take her up to the Great Hall. "Um... can you show me the way to the Great Hall?" she asked a third year girl.

The girl glared at her as if she were half a slug. "No," she said immediately.

Helen sighed as the girls laughed amongst themselves, glancing pointedly in her direction. How was she going to get to breakfast? Oh no, she thought as the tears threatened to come. Come on, Helen... stop it. But they did come, and the strange thought of Draco Malfoy sobbing came into her head. That was what she must look like.

"Oh, look," another third year said in mock sympathy.

There were footsteps in the corridor, and Pansy Parkinson appeared in the common room from the dormitories. "What's going on?" she said in a bored voice.

"The Mudblood can't find her way to the Great Hall," the third year said.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the girl, to Helen's surprise. "And I suppose you made it worse, Mullier?" She sighed and glared at Helen. "Come on," she said briskly. "I'll show you today, but that's it."

Helen nodded and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Thank you," she said softly.

Pansy said nothing. Instead, she set a pace that forced Helen to jog behind her as they headed up a flight of stairs and through some dark corridors. The corridors got progressively brighter, until they could see a group of Hufflepuffs making their way up from another flight of stairs across from them. They shook their heads sympathetically at Helen's tear-stained face.

There seemed to be a ruckus as they neared the Great Hall. As they got closer, Helen could see two groups of students facing each other menacingly. "Oh, God, not again," Pansy muttered. She extended an arm to block Helen from getting any closer.

Crabbe and Goyle, the two boulders, were cracking their knuckles and leering at the Gryffindors. Malfoy stood between them, livid, glaring at an equally furious Harry. Ron was glaring at Malfoy too, but Hermione seemed to be tugging on both of their sleeves to hold them back. A group of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws was also watching, a few students looking worried.

"Don't talk about my mother that way!" Harry said.

"How else would I?" Malfoy sneered. "Move, Potter, or I'll..." He suddenly noticed something and finished quickly, "I'll put you in detention!" He and Harry hastily stuffed their wands in their pockets.

Professor Flitwick rounded the corner and smiled brightly at the group. "Good morning," he said. His smile disappeared. "Are you boys fighting?" he asked.

"No, professor," Malfoy lied, pasting an innocent smile on his face. "We were just talking."

Flitwick waved a hand jovially. "Of course," he said, his smile returning. "Carry on. But remember, you must be careful, or you'll be expelled." He looked sternly at the two and walked on.

"Expelled?" Hermione squeaked as soon as Flitwick had left.

Harry shrugged. "Let's go," he said. The Gryffindors began to turn and walk away. It was then when Hermione noticed Helen.

"There you are!" she said, rushing over and pushing past Pansy. "Come on, Helen, you can come with us and eat at the Gryffindor table..."

"No," Helen said quietly. There was no way she would let the Slytherins win by going to the Gryffindors.

Hermione froze. "No?" she said in surprise.

"No?" Pansy said. Hermione glared at her, and Pansy glared back.

"No," Helen confirmed.

"Well..." Hermione said. "I suppose... all right, but if anything happens, come straight to us."

"I believe that she's my first year," Pansy said acidly, glaring at Hermione. "As I am a Slytherin prefect, not you. Therefore, it is my responsibility to watch over a Slytherin first year, not yours."

"Yes, but she's my sister," Hermione said coldly.

Helen wondered why Hermione acted so strangely. Sometimes, she was over-protective, the next minute, she would be back to calling her a hag. Hermione nodded and smiled at Helen before glaring at Pansy and sweeping off into the Great Hall. Pansy looked at Helen for a moment before saying, "Let's go, then."

If Avery and Nott were surprised at Helen's arrival at the Gryffindor table, they didn't show it. In fact, most of the Slytherins were smirking as Helen and Pansy approached them. Helen saw why. The only two seats left were two between Malfoy and Zabini. Helen would much rather sit next to Zabini than Malfoy, but surely Pansy was in on this and would claim that seat for herself.

However, Pansy glared at Malfoy and slid into the seat next to him, causing him to scowl. Helen dazedly sat down next to Zabini. Had Pansy just saved her there? But when she turned to ask Pansy, the girl was purposely ignoring her. "Timetables," a cold voice announced from behind Helen. It had to be Snape.

Sure enough, Snape stood there, scowling and holding a sheaf of parchment. "Avery," he muttered, giving Frances Avery her schedule, "Granger..." He paused and looked at Helen. Wordlessly, he handed her the parchment. Helen bit her lip and ignored the scrutinizing gaze fixed on her. Hurriedly, she stared at the parchment. Transfiguration first. Then Potions and finally Charms. Tomorrow, she would have Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, and Astronomy.

Malfoy was grumbling about N.E.W.T. Potions and how they would have to help a class for a week during their free period while Snape waited for their ingredients to come in. Pansy was silent, glaring down at her toast. Zabini paid Helen no attention whatsoever; he was immersed in a conversation with Theodore Nott.

Helen ate her breakfast silently, and as the first bell rang, walked towards her first class. She merely followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall. The Transfiguration class was obviously empty as Helen entered it after McGonagall, and Helen sat down in a seat next to the wall, wondering if anyone would sit next to her.

The rest of the class straggled in, the later ones looking relieved that they had found the classroom. No one seemed to want to sit next to Helen. The Gryffindors avoided her like the plague, the Hufflepuffs seemed nervous to be near a Slytherin, and the Ravenclaws just looked at her derisively. The Slytherins, obviously, just ignored her. Finally, the seat next to her was filled by a Ravenclaw boy who glared at her as if it were her fault that it was the only seat left.

McGonagall took the attendance and started the lesson by turning her desk into a pig. Helen, of course, had heard of this from Hermione, but the rest of the class, minus a few, looked impressed. She then went on about how Transfiguration was difficult and how theory was just as important as the actual spell. Helen found herself drifting off until McGonagall handed everyone a match and told them to turn it into a needle.

Helen looked at her match blankly. McGonagall had told them the incantation and the wand movement, but when she performed the spell, nothing happened. She tried again, with the same result. Then she got impatient and jabbed the match with the wand. Something happened, but it wasn't what she wanted. The match scraped against the desk, lighting it. Helen was left staring at a lit match, slowly burning the wood around it, smoke rising up into the air.

McGonagall rushed over and put out the small fire with her wand. "Here," she said briskly, handing Helen another match. Helen wondered if she was imagining the look of disappointment on the professor's face.

***

Snape glared around at the Gryffindors and Slytherins assembled in the gloomy dungeons. Helen stared back, a little apprehensive. She didn't want to look like an idiot. Hermione and the other sixth years in N.E.W.T. Potions with that free period were sitting in the back of the room, looking bored. Helen was glad to see Harry and Hermione, but not Malfoy. Zabini was also there, along with a pretty Ravenclaw sixth year, a pompous-looking Hufflepuff, and a group of Ravenclaw seventh years.

"Potions is an exact art," Snape said softly. "Some of you will fail miserably in this class, even if you excel at waving your wand foolishly. Those of you who don't will go on to Advanced Potions; the rest of you will be bidding goodbye at the end of your fifth year. Today, we will be making a simple boil-curing potion with the help of some advanced students." He glared at Harry. "That should be too easy. The directions are on the board." He sat down and began grading summer essays.

Helen squinted at the minute writing on the blackboard. Slowly, she began assembling ingredients. With some difficulty, she began to measure them out. "Do you need some help?" a voice asked from behind her. Helen turned. A pretty Asian girl, one of the seventh years, was standing there. Helen nodded gratefully, and the girl smiled. "I'm Cho Chang," she said. "I didn't catch your name."

"Helen Granger," Helen muttered shyly. Cho seemed to be so at ease with the ingredients.

Cho froze and looked at her. "Did you say Granger?" she said.

Helen blinked. "Well, yes," she said. Did Cho have a problem with Grangers or something? "My sister's Hermione Granger. Do you know her? She's in the sixth year."

"Oh, I know her," Cho said breezily, but Helen intercepted the glare Cho threw at Hermione every few seconds. It was when Helen's porcupine quills were reduced to dust when Helen realized Hermione and Harry were helping the same person: a nervous Josh Guilder.

Harry and Hermione seemed to be discussing something. Harry nodded, and Hermione walked over to them. "Hi, Cho," Hermione said in a friendly tone.

"Hello," Cho said coldly. Helen wondered why Cho was being so hostile.

Hermione's smile faltered. "Er... we were just wondering if you had any nettles. Josh spilled his, you see..."

"No," Cho said quickly, hiding the box of nettles behind her back. Helen frowned but didn't say anything.

Harry came over. "Hi," he said, sounding nervous. He wouldn't look at Cho. "No nettles?"

"Oh, look what I found!" Cho said cheerfully, also averting her eyes. She pretended to pick up the box of nettles. "Here you go." She awkwardly tried handing the box to Harry without touching him. Helen searched through her mind for a reason that could explain their behavior. Suddenly, she remembered an article she had read about former couples that were still friendly with each other. Awkward behavior was one of the after-effects of breaking up.

"You two went out, didn't you?" Helen said, almost accusingly.

Harry and Cho froze. "For a few months, yeah," Harry muttered, his face flushed. He took the box and hurried back to Josh.

Hermione glared at Helen. Helen was unfazed. Finally, a subject in this place that she could actually understand. "So," Helen said casually, "how does Harry kiss?"

Hermione choked on her own spit. Cho's eyes widened. "Well, I was just wondering," Helen said defensively. "It doesn't hurt to ask, does it?"

***

Helen A. Granger's list of Cute Boys at Hogwarts:

Harry P.

Ron W. (but he's taken!)

Draco M. (but he's horrible)

Blaise Zabini

Mark Evans???

Helen frowned at the page in her diary. Then she smirked and added:

Professor Lupin

Professor Snape (if he got rid of the grease)

The Gryffindor common room seemed cheesy to Helen, but she would much rather be up here (though she would never admit it out loud) than in the Slytherin one. After dinner, Hermione had invited Helen up to Gryffindor tower after seeing Avery and Nott, and Helen had pretended to accept from curiosity. She quickly closed her diary as a shadow fell across the page.

"Aren't you a Slytherin?"

Helen looked up and found herself glaring at a confused-looking Mark Evans. She nodded. "My sister's Hermione Granger," she said.

"Oh, Hermione, of course," Mark said, as if he had known Hermione all his life. "Fancy a game of chess?" he asked, holding up a board and pieces. "They're wizarding pieces," he added. "Really cool."

"Sure," Helen said, putting her diary on the table. The two were soon immersed in a silent game of chess. Helen liked playing the game, even though she was horrible at it. Luckily, Mark was just as bad, but both of them took delight in the pieces' violence.

"Hey, Hermione, is this the book?" Ron's voice interrupted. He picked up the diary and opened it. Helen tried to tell him it wasn't, but all that came out of her mouth was a squeak. "Dear Diary, I think Harry's really cute, and I need to add him onto my list..." Ron read, his eyes growing wider with every word. Helen cowered. She had written that traitorous sentence during Charms.

"Did you just say you think Harry's cute?" a girl with blonde hair shrieked in horror.

Ron, on the other hand, clearly thought it was Hermione's diary. Mark seemed too shocked to talk, and Helen couldn't manage anything but a squeak. Hermione looked up from her homework, looking annoyed. The portrait hole opened, and Harry came in, looking tired. "Snape's horrible," he said to Ginny, who was near the entrance. "Kept me there for-"

He stopped talking, obviously because Ron was standing in front of him, looming over him like a mad bull. He was even breathing heavily. All he needs is a nose ring, Helen thought wryly.

"What. Are. You. Doing. With. My. Girlfriend?" Ron said in a strained voice. Harry looked puzzled.

"What are you talking about, Ron?" Harry said, sounding exasperated. "Move, Ron, I need to do Lupin's essay. I'm glad he's our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher again, but-"

"WHO CARES?" Ron screamed. "Look!" He shoved the diary in Harry's face. It landed on the floor, and Harry picked it up, frowning.

"Helen Granger's list of cute boys at Hogwarts," he read.

Ron slumped. "Huh?" he said in confusion. "But isn't that Hermione's?"

Harry suddenly turned red. Hermione made her way towards them. "Helen, are you making another list?" she asked, sounding bored. "I told you, Helen, you're wasting your time!" She grabbed the diary from Harry and began to look at the list. Her jaw dropped. "Professor Snape?" she said incredulously.

"What?" Harry, Ron, and Ginny said at the same time.

Helen blushed. "It was just a joke."

Ron peered over Hermione's shoulder to look at the list. "Good. And you had better have been joking when you put Draco Malfoy on the list."

Helen remained silent.