Chaotic Forbiddance

“Peeves!” I shouted, then softened my voice and spoke to Hermione, “Please get Filch, Ms. Granger, if you would.” She hurried off, and the words continued to be scripted…

Fate and M.… I stopped it there, and casted a wordless spell and he was sent flying. Filch, followed by Mrs. Norris, and an apprehensive Hermione rushed into the room, to find no one in sight.

I flipped over the chalk board, and just in time, because Filch turned to look at it with suspicion in his mucky eyes. The only thing on there was lesson plans. He narrowed his eyes and turned to the mischievous poltergeist, which had been using a cheap trick invisibility powder from the joke shop. I would assume he got it from Fred and George, or Frank, who was now ruled out as a suspect because of his bewildered expression.

“I’ll get you this time!” Filch shouted, about to jump up and down in glee. Peeves glided out of the shocked room, cackling manically. No one said a word, Hermione had returned to her seat, and it seemed as if normalcy had returned to the silence.

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll just explain the Triwizard Tournament in more detail, since its history is part of the curriculum, and because it’s going to be hosted here in… Well, in a few weeks, students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are going to arrive. Durmstrang students have been in very cold climates for a long time, and their personality matches. Beauxbatons girls come from the heart of France and are accustomed to the warm summers and dry winters. Be courteous to them and I think they’ll have the composure to do the same. Girls, don’t flirt with the Durmstrang boys: they’re not exactly nice…” I went on to explain more, with a few more laughs, and finally a bell blared for the class to leave, with me shouting their homework assignment at them futilely. I sighed and began work on the lesson plan for the first year’s class.

FATE’S P.O.V.

Peeves had the nerve to begin writing something that could have ruined both Gerard and I, on his chalkboard! Anger very nearly wracked my body, but I sat and held the smoky fumes in, easy as pie. I wanted pie suddenly, it seemed as if my small misdemeanor on the way to recovery had been a miniscule fluke, I hoped.

The day being over, I now realized it was time for dinner, which I now looked forward to, but after that and some pie, sleep came with many nightmares of social outcast and lack of confidence. It was shallow and hollow, but worrying, still the same.

Waking up in the absolute norm of fashion, I took a glance over to the other empty beds and made my way to the girls lavatory, where the other Gryffindor girls congregated for the daily fight over mirrors. I simply made my way to a shower and prepared for the day, without the hassle of using a large mirror, I applied simple eyeliner in the reflection of a compact. Since it was getting even colder, I opted for the sweater in my uniform, skipping the tie and blouse, instead using a yellow-gold tank top.

“Do you have any concept of dress code?” asked Mikey as I approached him in the common room, we walked briskly out of the portrait and onto the stairs that shifted down to the great hall.

“Uh, no, but I only take ten minutes in the morning to get ready, how long does it take you to make your hair look like that?” I took a gentle swipe at his hair and he protected it with ferocity and a growl.

“How long does it take Gerard to get his make-up done in the morning?” Mikey said, sticking his tongue out.

“About an hour.” Speaking of the devil, Gerard swooped behind them like a bat, but something was different about him. Suddenly it clicked in my mind.

“You dyed your hair red! You’re such a copy cat.” I held my burgundy tresses, envying the brightness of his color.

“No I didn’t! And I’m never a copy cat!”

“Clearly, you did. And you are.” He grabbed Mikey’s slightly refractive coffee cup, to see that his once ebony locks were, in fact, bright red. He ran off to his office to fix them, nearly placing his foot through the fake step on the way.

I heard a laugh, a clear laugh that could only have been one person’s.

“Frankie!” Hermione and I shouted simultaneously, since the rest of our house had joined us on the way to breakfast.

“What?” His passive face was so sincere you would have sworn he was innocent, except for the tiniest quirk in his lip, and the way he bit it so that he wouldn’t burst into giggles.

“I can’t wait until he gives you a detention, that’s a teacher!” said Hermione, a gruff expression on her features. Eventually Ron, Harry, Mikey and Frankie couldn’t take it, they began to laugh raucously. Even after our wanting him punished, we had to admit, it was pretty funny, and we began to snicker, ever so slightly, as well.

“Uh, guys, it is Saturday, isn’t it?” Ron asked.

“So?”

“IT’S THE WEEKEND!?” Frankie shouted, ripping off his tie and running to breakfast, howling all the way.

“Is it just me or did he have skittles?”

“He had tropical skittles at detention; he threw them at Malfoy, the stupid git.” George came by and said. “By the way, Fate, we’ve come up with a new recipe for the cure to nosebleed nougats! If you would just…”

“By the way, do you want your nose broken again?” I responded; Fred backed away, as did George, which was a wise decision on both their parts.

"Ooooooh ZING!" Frankie chimed in, from ten feet away.

Our group converged on the table, somehow finding spots to sit, talking, and plating food concurrently. Since it was a weekend, the better breakfast foods were out, such as waffles, which many of the students ate fervently. Frankie went to talk with his friend in Hufflepuff, I think it was Bob, so I decided to join him in a moment.

“When are the other schools coming?” Harry asked, looking down at his plate of sausage with certain sadness. Were it not for the tournament, he could be having these meats before a Quidditch match.

“They arrive in a few weeks. Hey, I had an idea.” I whispered into Hermione’s ear and she looked aghast and delighted at the same time, and rushed to whisper it to the others, before Frank returned.

In the middle of the day, I walked to Gerard’s classroom, to find him boiling a potion to fix his hair, which was still vibrantly rouged. My heart fluttered in my chest and I remembered those nights in his classroom, which always seemed to be interrupted, but were great while they lasted. I almost hoped he would keep the, for lack of a better word, sexy, color.

“I think you should keep it like that. It suits you.” He grinned in response.

“It’s not very teacher-like, I don’t want to offend the other teachers with my youth.” I snickered and took a look at the pitch black potion that was brewing, curiosity in my eyes.

“Hair dye, I found out it was Frank, by the way.” Gerard responded to my wordless query, and reminded me again of how close we had been.

“Yeah, we did too, but we have a way to get back at him.” I told him of our cunning plan and a grin swept across his face.

Dinner came quickly, and Frank’s daily pumpkin juice was spiked, the plan was in motion.

After eating some vegetables and everyone in our group staring at him, Frank took a sip of his drink. Professor Way, at the teachers’ table, with his newly jet hair, watched in anticipation as color began sprouting from Frankie’s roots and suddenly, his hair was rainbow colored!

Looking up at the teachers’ table, Gerard, Hagrid, and the Headmaster all seemed bemused, while Snape continued to eat, of course. As people began looking at the source of laughter, they began to laugh too, as Frankie’s head was dyed every color of the rainbow! Soon Frank began to wonder why everyone was laughing and pointing at him. He gripped my plate, flinging the food off of it, onto Harry. He stared in open mouth disbelief at the colors reflected in the shiny gold plate.

“You made my head into a skittle’s bag? How sweet is that? But seriously, it’s not my birthday yet.” He ran out of the Great Hall, laughter and stares following him.

“Do you feel bad?” Hermione asked, “Because I do.”

“Nope,” the guys and I all answered in agreement.

And so the school year continues...