Deadly Pranks

The day of September 1, 1999 dawned without much excitement. It was an ordinary day after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not...no, Volde-no-Tom Riddle. Most of the students were quite happy to be heading back to school. For some of the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this was not the case. For about a month now, a small amount of them had woken early each morning, drenched in a cold sweat due to nightmares of what could happen this year. Would they be found out for who they truly were? Would they lose that which they held most dear? Would their secrets be discovered?

One of these students was a tall, lanky sandy-haired boy named Graham Pritchard. Normally a sweet, caring boy, Graham had been forced to adopt the personality which was expected of the Slytherins. Graham had seen what happened to Emma Dobbs when she was seen crying over a Gryffindor's taunts. Emma had been destroyed utterly, and now lived only for her school work. After this, Graham's mask grew thicker. He was the Prince of Slytherin, their revered Quidditch captain, their beloved prefect, the ultimate personification of Slytherin perfection, the idol of the first years-and an utter wuss.

Graham looked back and forth down the aisle on the train. The only people in sight were his sister and one of her friends, another Gryffindor seventh year. Assured that no one from his house would see him, he entered the compartment where three other fifth years sat. He stretched out across the empty bench and looked around the compartment, as did the Augurey perched on his shoulder. The four of them were so different but they had one thing in common. None of them had the stereotypical personality of their house.

The girl asleep on the other bench, Natalie McDonald was a Gryffindor. She was the most sought after girl in their year, if not in the school. She was a petite blonde with shocking blue eyes. Her delicate, almost doll-like, features skillfully hid her fiery temper. The guys, especially ones from Slytherin and Gryffindor, who went after her, came away with their ears ringing from an attack by her sharp tongue. Graham smothered a laugh as his thoughts turned to some of the tongue lashings she had given people. Her insults to Malcolm Baddock, Graham's fellow Slytherin, had served only to increase his attempts to capture her heart-until she utterly and completely humiliated him in front of his idol, Draco Malfoy. Then there was one of the Weasleys, Graham couldn’t quite recall his name, but he had graduated the year before. Natalie had chewed him out for ripping her potions essay clean in two. They had heard that one in the Slytherin common room-on the complete opposite end of the castle from her common room. Malfoy had rubbed that incident in the Weasley’s face for oh...weeks. It had been rather funny, and was only time in Graham's memory that he had ever truly appreciated the meanness that was his house’s trademark in his memory.

Her head rested on the shoulder of a black haired boy, Stewart Ackerley. He was busy charming Natalie’s red and gold hair ornaments green and silver. Graham rolled his eyes at this charming display of how deeply the stereotypical personality of people in the houses was imbedded within all of them, especially the purebloods who had been told tales all their lives of the horror of the different houses. Those from long lines of Gryffindors were terrified of being sorted into Slytherin. The same applied to the other way around and Ravenclaws in the thought of Hufflepuff as a potential house. Of course, it became funny when he realized who was doing this. Stew was shunned by the other Ravenclaws. He was too fun-loving for they with their thoughts constantly turned towards their studies. Graham was afraid of him himself sometimes; even Natalie was on occasion. Of course, the only sign of this was when she would give him a weird look and said, “You know, there’s a special ward in St. Mungo’s for people like you.” Eleanor loved this comment and from that point on all of Stewart’s presents were sent to “Inmate 183191 St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries c/o Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

This turned Graham’s mind to the black haired girl lying on the floor. Eleanor Branstone was the fourth member of their small group. She was playing with the salamander she had received as a birthday present from the other three. She had immediately named him Monosodium Glutamate, or MSG for short. They had though her plain mad, but when she explained, they all laughed. On her 11th birthday, she had thrown up because of the MSG in the take-out Muggle Chinese food her mother was fond of-all over her Hogwarts letter-and that was also the birthday her father had given her the first of a long line of gifted Salamanders, this one named Genghis. This was rather funny, if you thought about it long enough. She was the brains of the group. A total sweetheart unless of course, you got on her bad side-which was never a good idea-Eleanor could be extremely vicious and knew more…creative…hexes then most Slytherins.

The four were so different. Only one thing truly brought them together. Their personalities were different from the rest of their Houses', so different that Eleanor, Natalie, and Stewart were shunned. Graham himself was only accepted because of the mask he wore day in and day out. It was a sad fact that they had to act or be shunned, Graham decided. He sighed softly and then said, by way of lightening his mood, “Morning Nats.”

“G’way Stewbie, I’m trying to sleep here,” she said, her eyes still closed and her hand trying to shove Graham away, but failing miserably.

“I’m ever so hurt Nats.” Graham said, attempting to stifle his laughter.

“Whozzat?” she muttered, as she curled closer against Stewart.

“It’s Graham, Nat.” Eleanor interrupted as she shoved Graham’s feet off of the bench and sat down next to him.

“Oh. Right,” Natalie said as she yawned and sat up, “how was your summer, Snake?”

“It was quite fun. Got my wand fixed finally. I didn’t think we’d ever go back to Egypt.”

Stewart snorted and Eleanor shot him a dirty look. Even scarier than the fact that Eleanor was giving someone a dirty look was the fact that this look was her patented “Don’t make me hex you” look. It scared the...lucky...few who were subject to it stiff and Stewart was no exception to that general rule. As Stewart's eyes widened slightly and he gulped, Graham cleared his throat and changed the topic.

“So, El, d’you think you can help me with the translation of the wand runes? I couldn’t find them in the Phoenix section.”

Eleanor looked quite relieved at this change of subject. “Didn’t you say that it was made with one of Aodh’s feathers?” She pulled out a rune dictionary from her bag and looked questioningly at Graham.

“Erm…yeah…but he’s still a Phoenix, so it’s the same, right?” Graham looked rather puzzled.

“He’s an IRISH Phoenix, Snake.” Eleanor said as she began to flip through the large book on her lap.

“So? I don’t get it.” Graham's face grew steadily more confused by the moment.

“The type of rune displayed depends on the exact species and exact wood used for the wand. So, we look under Augurey and…what wood is it?”

“Um...Yew, I think.”

“I’m not a tree Graham.” Eleanor smiled to herself as she turned another page “Now, here you are.” She passed him the book and he only rolled his eyes at the horrid pun.

The ride to the station was rather uneventful-or at least uneventful by their standards. They ate off the cart, Natalie and Stewart argued…repeatedly, Eleanor read and daydreamed and Graham, after finishing off the Runes assignment, thought about the coming year, occasionally out loud.

When the train arrived, they split up quickly. Eleanor hopped into a carriage with two second year Hufflepuffs, Stewart joined in with some fellow pranksters from Gryffindor, Natalie went off with some of the more cynical Ravenclaws and Graham ended up riding with and discussing tactics for the coming year with some other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

After a rather boring ride to the castle, they all rushed into the Great Hall. The sooner they were ready and quiet, the sooner the Sorting would begin and the sooner they could eat. Rationally, they all realized this, but next to none of the students were willing to recognize this. So, it of course took an ungodly amount of time for the feast to begin, Graham cheering half-heartedly at the appropriate times and once when Stewart's younger sister, Helen, was sorted into Gryffindor, which earned him a dirty look from Malcolm Baddock.

The normal bit of poking fun at Dumbledore occurred at the Slytherin table. Still, nothing unusual had happened. Dumbledore was making up for his four years of serious speeches with one of the oddest speeches in the history of Hogwarts. In fact, it was said to have been weirder then the speech eight years ago, which consisted completely of “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

When they were finally dismissed Graham helped escort the first years to the common room, to which the password was Draconis Superius. Graham rolled his eyes and wondered who was trying to kiss up to Malfoy this time.

Entering the dark, green-lit dungeon, Graham took a minute for his eyes to adjust to it. This was the worst part of being a Slytherin, in the ever-so-humble opinion of Graham, the prince of Slytherin. The prince scowled at a second year he knew was hoping to get onto the Quidditch team and was rewarded with the dark green velvet chair that had previously been occupied by the second year. Of course, the second year didn’t realize that he had already picked out the candidates for the Seeker position he coveted-and he was not on the list.

He took a nice nap during the speech from Jacob Dorny, one of the seventh year prefects, and an overall git. Dorny wasn’t good for a thing, save swinging a club around wildly and knocking Bludgers into people. As he drifted off to sleep, Graham wondered if Nat, Stew and Ellie were as disgusted as he was in their respective houses.

***

Eleanor was still rather cheery, even after one of her normal fights with Laura Madley. It had started walked into the black common room and headed quickly for the list with dorm assignments and get to her and her shadow, Maureen Dunlevy's, room.

A sickly sweet voice from behind made her shoulders slump. "You're in room F-25 Ellie darling."

"I can see that for myself Madley." Eleanor said, trying to keep her smile on and failing miserably when it turned into a sneer.

Laura kept that sickly sweet smile on her face, looking to most like someone who was simply trying to help. "It's in the back of the second hall on the left Ellie! I hope you have thick your warm pajamas! I heard it gets quite cold down there."

"Yes Madley, thank you Madley, good-bye Madley." Eleanor made a face and grabbed Maureen's arm, dragging her down the twisting halls to their room. She was able to keep her emotions under control until they got to the room when her face contorted in anger and she threw a pillow from her bed at the wall.

"Was it Laura again?" Maureen asked with a raised eyebrow. Eleanor nodded as she looked at the twelve-year old. Maureen's thick red hair was pulled into a loose bun and pinned with her wand. Her eyes were dark brown and she had a multitude of freckles. The ends of her robes were torn; exposing the black boots she wore everywhere.

Maureen shivered, the cold of the room just setting in. With a step, she crossed to her trunk and pulled out a thick grey woolen sweater. Pulling it on, she forced a smile onto her face. "Let's unpack. I packed my parchment at the bottom and I need to owl my mum for some blankets for us."

Eleanor nodded, still silently trying to harness her anger. Maureen was used to these silences and ignored them as the girls tried to warm up by hurrying around the room putting up little touches and putting things away. By the time they finished, Eleanor had been cheered up by the four glass figurines that she had hung in a window of their room and the other things that the pair could laugh about from last year and their visit the previous summer.

As soon as they were done, they each got into multiple layers of pajamas and quickly wrote letters to their mothers requesting their winter stuff early. Maureen sent them off with her twin owls and the pair bundled under the thin blankets typical of the dorms they lived in.

***

When the feast ended, Stewart had followed the first prefect who left to the common room entrance. Unfortunately, the one he ended up following was Orla Quirke, his fellow fifth year and an all around brat. If you looked in Stewart's diary, not that he had one, (in the drawer of his night table, conveniently disguised as a blue velvet covered book with bronze metallic writing that says "Ruling Ravenclaws"), there would likely be a list of Most Likely To's for his year. Besides the usual, such as Natalie's "Most likely to become Lady Voldemort", there would be one that said "Most likely to annoy Stewart so much about studying harder that he hexed her ten times and still she wouldn't get the message" and that would be found next to Orla's name.

He cursed her under his breath and quietly headed around the common room. Of course, Orla had to be a seeker, didn't she? Of course, she noticed him. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Stewart thought, mentally kicking himself.

"Stewart?"

"That would be me. I don't know anyone else by that name in this house."

"Right then, you will study harder this year? You know we really have a chance at it this year, now that Potter's out of school." After that, he tuned her out until it became obvious she had been repeating the question she had been asking him for a while and was getting fed up with him not answering her.

"Oh, yeah, sure Orla, I guess," Stewart said, privately wondering what it was he had agreed to do.

Orla's face lit up which made Stewart groan inwardly. He tried to smile as she said, "Right, see you Thursday then."

"Err...Orla, where on Thursday?"

"Right here in the common room you Hufflepuff! That's where all our philosophy discussions are!"

Stewart nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow then. I found a rather interesting book in Diagon Alley and I'd like to take a look at it."

Without waiting for an answer, he hurried to his dorm, praying that she would assume he was merely eager to get started on the book. He lay down on his bed and groaned. What had he gotten himself into? He pulled out a blue book and opened it to a fresh sheet of paper. Casting a quick garbling spell on it, he began to write.

Dear Diary-Not-That-I-Have-One,

What have I gotten myself into? I just agreed to attend one of Orla's philosophy discussions. I mean, I didn't know that's what I was doing. You know how it is when she starts talking. Your eyes sort of glaze over and you feel light-headed and ecstatic. Err...I mean, you feel sick to your stomach. Yes, that's it, you feel sick to your stomach! Ah well, I'll just hex myself and go to Madam Pomfrey's Thursday. That sounds like a plan. The guys are coming, better hide you before they catch me.

Peace,

Stew

***

If it could be possible to be crankier than Stewart was, no matter how he hid it, then Natalie was. She was curled up in a chair by the fire in the Gryffindor common room listening to Colin Creevey gushing and prattling to the first years about how wonderful and brave Gryffindors were, and how lucky they were to be in the same house as the amazing hero of the wizarding world, Harry Potter (Merlin rest his soul!). She rolled her eyes as Colin talked about how they were sure to win the House Cup this year and that it was all Gryffindors, not just Harry, who won them the house cup in years past. Of course they'd win the House Cup this year, she thought, they didn't have the Terrific Trio messing things up with their loss of points. Personally, Natalie had nothing against Harry, but she was disgusted at the fact that he got all this attention for something he could barely remember doing, and in fact, hadn't done at all-it had been his mother. She dozed off midway through Colin's speech and was awakened by Ginny Weasley.

"Come on Natalie, time for bed," Ginny said before nudging her gently.

"But mommy, I don't want to ride the pony," Natalie mumbled as she curled into a tighter ball.

Ginny shook her a few times. "Get up Nat. You can't spend all night down here."

"Huh-wah-Ste-oh, Gin, it's you. What is it?" Natalie stretched while waiting for her answer.

"You need to get to the dorm." Ginny replied, helping Natalie to her feet. Natalie took the aid gratefully.

"So, where's the dorm oh most," she said through a yawn, "high prefect?"

"Our entrance from here is under the stairs. The password is Switzerland. It'll do you good to remember it. Now, let's get going."

Natalie nodded and followed Ginny to the stairs. It felt odd to be going around and under them instead of climbing them to her dorm. Ginny murmured the password softly and they separated as soon as they got into the dorm. Natalie dragged herself over to the set of four beds where Laura, Orla and Emma Dobbs stood. Ignoring their chatter, she crawled under her covers and fell asleep, her black cat, Connor, curled up at her feet.

The four slept peacefully that night, as did the other students. All of them except one, that is. In one of the towers, someone sat in the shadows, diagramming a plan of the destruction of everything Hogwarts stood for, and in particular, the four who, even in their sleep, destroyed the work of wizards and witches from the time the Founders died.