As the Sister of Harry Potter

Our trunks were packed, our filthy socks washed, and our owls coaxed into their cages with owl treats. Moody stacked our luggage and pets in the hallway for him to take with him when he met us at Kings Cross.

We left the house at eight. Our guard was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Lupin, Amos Diggory, and Sarlanda. Even Sirius joined us in dog form, much to Mrs. Weasley’s disapproval. But he really needed to get out of that house. We had to go in two groups eventually however, because there were so many of us. Tonks, Lupin and Mr. Weasley took Hyden, Launa, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Sar took me, Harry, the Twins and Cedric.

At the platform, we loaded our trunks and said our goodbyes. Sirius gave me an extra-slobbery dog kiss. Moody handed me an old photograph.

“Original Order of the Phoenix,” he grunted, “Sirius thought you’d like it.”

“Wow… thanks Moody!” I said, beaming. I flipped it over and saw that Sirius had scrawled everyone’s names in the photo on back.

“Constant vigilance,” Moody added, and I got on the train.

Sarlanda and Cedric split from the Twins and I. “We’ll be back after we’re done lecturing the new Prefects,” said Sarlanda. Cedric kissed my cheek, and they were gone. Fred pretend gagged, and we headed for our usual compartment. Ophilia was already there, and tackled me.

“Jennifer! I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too Ophilia!” I said, laughing. Her skin was tan and her short, spiky hair was bleach blonde with green streaks.

“Don’t worry,” she told Fred, who was gaping at her hair, “it’ll be back to purple again tomorrow!”

The train ride passed in a flash. Ophilia told us all about Italy. Apparently she would never eat pizza again unless she was there, because theirs was so good, wizarding gladiator fights were even bloodier than the Muggle ones, and Italian men were very good-looking. When Lee and Sophia joined us, we engaged in a Bertie Bott war. We let Ophilia and Lee in on the Skiving Snackboxes, and they agreed to help. Sarlanda eventually joined us for Exploding Snap. It was a good time.

We finally reached Hogwarts and the train emptied. On the platform, I saw Cedric and he waved me over.

“Hi Cedric!”

“Hello darling,” he said cheerily, winking. He took my hand and we walked to the carriages, looking for his friends. When they saw us, Dom and Greg left, leaving me, Cedric, Jared and Colin.

“What’s their issue?” I asked as we got in a carriage. ‘Oh wait,’ I thought, ‘They don’t like me regardless. Why did I think this year would be any different?’

“Dom and Greg think you’re nutters,” Jared answered. “With the ‘Voldemort’s returned’ stuff.”

I frowned. “And they don’t believe Cedric?”

“Story is that you and Harry attacked Cedric in the maze and fixed his memory so he thinks Voldemort did it.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“Hey, that’s their story, not mine,” said Jared, raising his hands defensively. I was steaming. How could anyone think that?

“We believe you, though,” Colin piped up. “My whole family does.”

“Yeah, mine too,” added Jared.

When we finally got to the Great Hall, I was about ready to punch something. The boys had told me all about what the Prophet had been saying about Harry, Cedric, Dumbledore and I all summer, and I was close to irate. People skitted around me like I had some extremely rare and contagious disease. They avoided Cedric too, but on a smaller scale.

I sat across from Harry, fuming. “Have you heard this crap story?” I asked him.

“You mean the one where we go crazy in the maze and jump Cedric?” he asked. I could tell he was just as pissed as me. I simply nodded and picked up my golden plate.

“I—hate—people!” I snarled, hitting the plate to the table with each word.

“Miss Potter, if you continue to do that I will dock you points,” said Professor McGonagall as she swept past, leading the firsties to be sorted. Grumpily, I set the plate down. A couple first years looked in awe at my Quidditch Captain badge, but most of the looked at me like I was mad. I repeat: I hate people. Ophilia and George sat on either side of me, and the Hat began its song.

It did the usual thing of telling about each house, but this year, it warned us to be strong and united internally.

“If being united means I get to feed Lance to the Giant Squid finally, then I’m all for unity,” I mumbled as the sorting started. Ophilia’s mouth was open a bit. “What’re you gawking at?” I hissed. She frowned.

“No need to get snappy… look at Lance.” So I turned around and looked. “He looks… different…” she finished.

Ophilia was right. He was paler than normal and looked exhausted, but his expression was calm. Calm was not a Lance expression. Even better, his dirty blonde hair was now so dark of a brown is looked black.

I snorted. “Bloody git, who does he think he is, honestly…”

Unfortunately, taming my hunger did nothing to calm me back down. I was honestly so angry I can’t ever remember being this mad.

And it was about to get worse.

Dumbledore was giving his usual welcome speech. “Tryouts for House Quidditch Teams are being decided by the Captains this year, so see them if you wish to –”

“Hem, hem.”

All eyes in the room flashed to the speaker who had interrupted Dumbledore. The speaker was standing. She was short and stubby, all in pink and had short, curly mouse-brown hair… it was that Umbridge Toad. And she was the new Defense teacher.

As she launched into her speech, I set my mind into History of Magic mode, which was basically, “ignore everything they say and go read the book later.” I did catch a few phrases though, like:

“Ministry of Magic… importance… education… careful instruction…”

‘Who does this toad think she is?’ I wondered.

“…progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged…”

‘That doesn’t sound good…’

“…intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

‘Her voice is really annoying,’ I thought when she finished. But from what I had heard, I sort of understood her objectives, and none of them were good.

“What a load of waffle,” concluded Harry.

“There was a lot in that waffle,” said Hermione grimly.

“Like what? What did it all mean?” Ron asked.

“It meant,” I said dully, “that the Ministry in interfering at Hogwarts. And she’ll be leading it.”

Ophilia looked horrified. “But… they can’t do that! Can they?”

“Apparently, they can,” I sighed, and heaving myself up as Dumbledore dismissed us. Hermione gave us the password and Ophilia and I took the shortcuts to the Gryffindor Common room.

We laid on our beds, alone in our dorm. Ophilia was playing with her cat, and I examined the Marauder’s Map without even knowing what I was doing. I caught myself watching Cedric’s dot in the Head dorm a few times.

Finally, Ophilia broke the silence. “Jennifer… we have to get rid of that woman…”

“I agree,” I said, turning over on my side so I could see her.

“But how?” she asked, frowning. “I have a feeling if we get caught out of line by her we might face worse than expulsion.”

“Yeah…” I said, thinking. “We could just prank her good.” There you go, a very obvious solution, brought to you by Jennifer Potter.

“But the other teachers would know who did it. They’d turn us in.”

“Only if they had proof. And did you see the other teachers’ faces? I don’t think they like her very much either.”

“I don’t know what to do…”

“We’ll discuss it at Prankcounsel on Saturday, okay?”

Ophilia nodded, then got up. “Well, I’m off to get my hair back to purple. Blonde really doesn’t suit me.”

I laid in my bed, plotting against Umbridge. I barely knew her, but I knew three things; she worked for Fudge; I didn’t like her; and she was going to be the biggest pain in the arse I’d ever met.