Title: Pictures

Author: Aquiline Lassitude, but it's pronounced Throat-Wobbler Mangrove.

Rating: PG-13 for mature themes and swearing.

Summary: Hermione draws pictures of the one she loves. Trouble is, the one she loves ain't a boy...and it's destroying her. After a rather insane girl comes to Hogwarts, she realizes what she feels isn't wrong. OC, FF slash, homophobia. WARNING! AMERICAN EXCHANGE STUDENT!


"Attention, all! I know it's been a tumultuous summer, seeing as you are teenagers, but now I'd all like you to stop gossiping about who slept with who and just pay attention to roll call!"

The class settled down. Flitwick beamed. "Now!" He picked up the register. "Lavender Brown?"

"I'm here!" she sang happily.

"Seamus Finnegan?"

Seamus looked up from his doodling. "Wha?"

"Hermione Granger?"

"Present."

"Sanaz Lutin?"

"Hi-yo."

Everyone's ears perked up at the unfamiliar name, and heads swiveled around to the back of the class.

There was a girl sitting there, with long dreadlocked rainbow-dyed hair and loads of eye makeup and silver knobs where her brow line should be. Her uniform, which was ripped artfully in some places, had "RIP Dimebag Darrell" embroidered on one sleeve in red threads. Her upper lip was painted black and lower lip red. She looked vaguely Middle Eastern.

"Hi," she said, and gave a little wave. "I'm an exchange student."

"Oh, right. Yes. You might notice that Dean Thomas isn't here this year. He went to Salem Co-Ed for Wizards and Witches." Flitwick gave another beaming smile. "Harry Potter?"

Everyone shrugged and turned back, except for Hermione. She viewed Sanaz appreciatively. There wasn't anyone so exotic or arty in the whole of Hogwarts, and she wasn't aware that anybody else in the school liked Damageplan, or mourned when Dime was killed.

Sanaz looked at Hermione's appreciative face and grinned. "It's the hair, right? Always gets looks," she whispered as Flitwick droned on through the roll call. "Whassyer name? You look like a genuine Brit."

"Hermione. Your hair's wicked!" Hermione whispered back. "How long have you had dreads?"

"'Bout a year. The 'rents were pissed when they saw it, but then they started to like them…and then I got the dye job. Excellent name."

"Hell," whispered Hermione approvingly. "You're brave."

"The term begins now!" squeaked Flitwick. "Cease your mutterings, everyone, I know roll is boring, but we've got things to learn! This week we're going to start with the spell Paruma, which—"

Hermione watched as Sanaz's hand shot up. Her

"Yes, Miss Lutin?"

"Ms, actually," she said, grinning at the gasps coming from the class. "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Flitwick, but I think the spell you want… it's pronounced 'Pohruma.' 'Paruma' summons a herd of small flying zebras to come to your aid, although most of the time it backfires and they kill you."

There was a wave of suppressed laughter among the Gryffindors.

"Er. Right, Miss—Ms Lutin, thank you."

Hermione gave a surprised glance to the newly divorced Sanaz. She smiled angelically and began to braid her dreads.

"Right." Flitwick resumed with only a slightly shaken air. "Pohruma, er, forces the magical fluxes around the, er, object to be come stretched, therefore braiding the object with its surroundings. Very useful for hiding things. Used by criminals and noblemen alike."

The lesson went on drearily, with Sanaz braiding her hair with one hand and very quickly typing notes into something on top of her desk with the other. Hermione took notes, felt a stare, and realized that Sanaz was looking strangely at the quill and parchment she was scribbling with.

"You use quills?" she mouthed, evidently amazed.

"Er, yes." Hermione looked closely at the thing on Sanaz's desk and realized it was a little typewriter, churning out Post-Its. Odd, that.

Sanaz shook her head in disbelief, flashed another grin, and went back to typing.

Hermione shrugged and continued writing. She of course knew the spell, but thought it prudent to write the notes, just in case Flitwick decided to do notebook checks like her old French teacher used to do.

She was finished long before everyone else, even Sanaz and her typewriter, who was getting into a whispered conversation with Harry. He looked in love with her.

Flitwick excused himself to step out for a bit. He was probably still shell-shocked about having a divorced fifteen-year-old with rainbow hair and loads of piercings correcting him about pronunciations.

As soon as he was out of the room…

Out from under her Charms notebook, Hermione drew her sketchbook, battered and torn. If anyone had seen it they wouldn't be tempted to leaf through it. The spotting of mold on the front cover and the legend EARTH SCIENCE A would deter them.

She hunched over the already-marked page and unhooked the mechanical pencil from the cover. Skitch-skitch-skitch-skitch-skitch.

No, that sucks. She narrowed her eyes. Rubrubrubrub. Skitch-skitch-skitch.

Yes. It was taking shape, pretty nicely. Skitch. Skiiii—

"Whatcha drawin'?"

Hermione closed the book with a slap. Sanaz grinned at her. "What was that? It looked good!"

"Nothing," Hermione chattered nervously.

"It didn't loooook like nothing." Sanaz leaned over. "It was a girl."

"Sshhhh…" Hermione warned.

"A girl," Sanaz whispered theatrically, "with no clothes on."

"She didn't have clothes on yet, I was going to draw them!"

"With penciled hearts and the nipples in place?"

"Quiiiett," hissed Hermione angrily. "Don't say anything more…"

"Oh, don't worry, Brit girl. Why do you think my arranged marriage ended?"

She flashed another toothy smile, stuck out a metal-studded tongue, and cackled softly. Then she sat back in her seat and resumed her note-taking.

Hermione stared at nothing, and then, like a girl devoid of emotion, drew out the book again and stared.

The naked Ginny seemed to wave at her.


The rest of the day passed uneventfully, up until lunch. Hermione sat down next to Ron and Harry, who were dueling with fake wands, and began to eat her veal pie voraciously. After two months of pizza and popcorn, she needed something healthy to take into her system.

"You're a wolf today, aren't ya?" said Ginny cheerfully, sitting down next to her. "Hey, Hermione!"

"Reverse the sentences, please," Hermione mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Ginny looked blank for a second, then smiled. "Ah, the wit. The searing, spiking wit—have you been watching Python again?"

Hermione grinned. "Jesus, no. After the Spanish Inquisition I decided that the insanity was too much."

I wonder what she would do if she found out that I drew naked pictures of her during Charms?

"Graham Chapman in drag for Queen!" came an all-too-familiar voice. Hermione looked up and saw Sanaz.

"Mind if I sit here? The other tables aren't so nice."

"Well. You see. The other tables are—" Ginny began, but was cut off."

"Bitchy. Yeah, I understand." Sanaz peered at Ginny. "Hey, you're that…"

Hermione kicked her artfully.

"—arrgh—never mind."

"Um…who are you?" asked Ron, looking with interest at Sanaz's multicolored dreads.

"Glad you asked! Sanaz Andromeda Lutin, one-half Muslim, one-third Greek, one-third French, from the U. S. of A, exchange student from Salem Co-Ed for Wizards and Witches. I smoke a bit, I've got an international driver's license, and I'm great at playing Quadpot. I got the dreads after an Ani DiFranco concert in Helsinki, and then the color after my husband told me that I didn't look weird enough."

Cue odd looks.

"Oh, yeah, the husband bit, everyone always freaks out after I tell him or her I've been married. Mom put me in a traditional arranged marriage when I was about two, but they caught us both going into a gay bar for teens when I was around thirteen (in different entrances), so we were able to get a divorce on friendly terms. Our moms weren't that happy about it, but we were. Especially him. Slut." She took a huge slice of pie and poked it genially. "What animal did this use to be?"

Ginny, Ron, and Harry stared at her. Hermione shoveled more pie in and gave her A Look.

"Er…you're…" Harry began.

"They're rainbow dreads, kids. Rainbow." She smiled. "You got a GSA here?"

"A what?" Ron mumbled. His dreams of having hot sex with Sanaz were shattered, Hermione thought.

"Gay Straight Alliance."

"N…o…" said Ginny, in a rather odd voice Hermione thought.

"Well then! I'll have to found one!" Sanaz stuck a bit of crust in her mouth and chewed. "Mmph. Dead animal. Terrifically edible."

Hermione, sensing the attention was firmly fixed on Sanaz, opened the sketchbook under the table and began to sketch, very lightly.

Sanaz continued an animated conversation about American teenager life and magic and got into a lively debate about Quadpot versus Quidditch with Harry and Ron, and started giving Ginny tips on getting dreadlocks.

The bell rang for the next period. Harry, Ron and Ginny dashed off, and Hermione was about to, but Sanaz grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.

"If you ever need a good fuck," she whispered, "I'm open."

Hermione turned bright red.


…Heh. giggles Next chapter up soon.