Vespera excelled in Potions, earning several house points for Ravenclaw even from Professor Snape, who notoriously showed no favoritism toward other houses.
Professor Snape was quite fond of this student, who was clearly no troll. "Miss Quinlan, surprisingly well done. Five points to Ravenclaw."
Consequently, because her left buttock had left the seat first, Vespera was sentenced to the dungeons to tidy up potion ingredients in Professor Snape's office.
"Oh, Merlin's iron teeth! Why is Professor Snape treating you like this when you did absolutely everything right?" her roommate Catherine fumed, her knife and fork scraping harshly against her plate.
"Perhaps precisely because I did it *too* right."
Catherine looked confused. What kind of logic was that? You got punished just for getting it right?
"Miss Palmer, no talking at the table. That is proper etiquette for a noble lady." Professor Snape glided past the two of them.
Catherine jumped, the meat in her mouth getting stuck in her throat. Scowling, Professor Snape flicked his wand and cast a spell on her.
"Thank you, Professor."
Once he was out of earshot, Catherine leaned in close to Vespera. "That wretched big bat, it was obviously just him sneaking up on me and scaring me."
Hearing this, Vespera stayed silent. She watched Professor Snape’s fluttering black robes and greasy, shoulder-length hair, her gaze drifting off into a daze.
He really did look quite similar.
So why wouldn't a potions genius just buy a bottle of shampoo?
After lunch, a flock of owls flew into the Great Hall, bringing the students their long-awaited packages.
Perrin dutifully returned with replies from Headmaster Dumbledore and Minister Fudge.
*"Dear Miss Quinlan, thank you very much for your suggestion. But I hardly think the naive idea of a young witch can convince... As the Minister for Magic, listening to a child from the Muggle world..."*
Hmm... Read and rejected.
Expected. Vespera hadn't really held out any hope. Her second letter was already written, and Perrin would deliver it to the Ministry tonight.
Headmaster Dumbledore, on the other hand, was remarkably agreeable. He stated in his letter that he had no objections whatsoever, provided she could convince the house-elves to change the menu.
Vespera had already spent the last few evenings conquering the kitchen house-elves with her culinary skills, but while the Headmaster might have no objections, *she* certainly could.
There was no such thing as a free recipe, especially when the recipe came from someone who was dirt poor. Five Galleons per dish—she was practically a philanthropist.
Handing the two pre-prepared reply letters to Perrin, Vespera rewarded him with a bit of steak from the table, and the owl happily set off to deliver the mail.
Catherine shared a small snack sent from home. "Pella, are you heading back to the dorm later?"
"No, I'm going to spend some time in the library."
As she left the Great Hall, she passed Harry and Ron and overheard them talking about the break-in at Gringotts. Harry was mysteriously analyzing that the targeted treasure must be hidden right here inside Hogwarts.
She heard every word, since they were speaking rather loudly.
"Eavesdropping little eagle." In the corridor, George suddenly appeared, draping an arm over Vespera’s shoulder and leaning in close to her ear.
Fred immediately blocked the other side as well. "Tell us too, what did you hear, clever little eagle?"
Thanks to a few midnight snacks, the two of them had been clinging to her quite tightly lately.
"Didn't you hear it yourselves?"
The Weasley twins exchanged a knowing smile. "Did you hear it, George?"
"Did you hear it, Fred?"
"Oh~ It seems neither of us heard a thing." Two charmingly identical smiling faces hovered right in front of her.
Vespera had no desire to deal with them and prepared to walk around them. You can never reason with someone who is deliberately playing the fool.
"George, Fred. Don't bully a first-year student."
"George~ Don't bully~ a first-year student~"
"Fred~ Don't bully~ a first-year student~"
Percy was so exasperated by his two brothers that a faint pink flush crept up from his neck to the tips of his ears. "You... Are you alright, Quinlan?"
"Vespera~ Percy says we're bullying you~ Say something~"
No matter what strange thing these two had eaten today, Vespera let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
"Weasley Prefect, they really aren't bullying me."
"That's good then." Percy paused for a moment. "Where are you going? I'll walk with you."
"No need, the library is very close. Thank you, Weasley Prefect."
"Oh, alright then."
By the time Vespera climbed the stairs and was completely out of sight, the teasing rang out: "No~ need~ Weasley Prefect~"
"That~ alright~ then—" The mocking tone cut off sharply under Percy's murderous glare.
Fred and George sheepishly rubbed their noses, then bumped their shoulders against Percy like good pals. "She called you *Weasley*, you know, with so many Weasleys in our family."
"Was that you, George?"
"Was that you, Fred?"
"Perhaps it was our lovely younger brother, Ron," the twins said in unison.
"There's only one prefect in the Weasley family." Leaving behind just that sentence, Percy turned and walked away.
The twins, who had been laughing a moment ago, stopped. Clearly, Percy had won this round brilliantly.
"If he's the prefect, then what are we?"
Weasley Senior. It seemed the little eagle always addressed them that way.
"Do you think she can tell which one of us is which, George?"
"George, don't use your own name to ask me."
The handsome Weasley seniors pondered for two seconds. "Right, we should ask *her*."
***
"Locomotor Mortis!"
"Hahaha. Goyle, Crabbe, look at that ridiculous-looking idiot—"
Malfoy's goon hadn't even finished laughing when Neville's stiff, jumping form brought the comical display to an end.
"Finite Incantatem." The spell lifted. Neville cast a grateful glance toward the direction the spell had come from and hurried away.
Having his fun ruined, Malfoy flew into a rage, his wide eyes glaring around to find whoever had interrupted him.
"It's you again? The Ravenclaw mud—Muggle-born." The goons stood on either side of Malfoy like a thick, solid wall.
"How dare you cross me, me—a proper Malfoy!" The blonde boy tilted his chin up high, then realized what he was doing and stepped back slightly to meet her gaze levelly.
Vespera didn't speak. She just quietly looked the three of them up and down, wondering what was going through her mind.
The atmosphere turned subtle for a moment, Vespera's silence making the three of them look like clowns performing on stage.
"You damned Mudblood, didn't you hear me talking to you!"
The previously bustling corridor instantly went quiet, only to break out into whispering murmurs a moment later.
Vespera swept her gaze over the postures of the crowd, then let her eyes fall back onto Malfoy.
Right as he flew into a blind fury and raised his wand, she spoke: "I am a Mudblood."
"Then what are you lot? Pure-bloods?"
"Or perhaps another term: the product of inbreeding? Genetic defects? Deformed fetuses?"
—Silence. An indescribable, heavy silence—
"What are you talking about!"
"Don't you understand?" Vespera frowned, then added in a questioning look and a matter-of-fact tone, "Simply put, children born to related men and women are much more likely to suffer from illnesses."
"Low intelligence, Down syndrome, abnormal gonadal development... infant malformations... Goyle and Crabbe's symptoms are quite obvious..."
"As for you..."