A/N: You all know how things are at Hogwarts, right? Something happens, and you have ten thousand different versions of that story floating around, including stories that are unlikely even from a magical standpoint. This is about a random first year who finds out first hand how the Hogwarts Rumor Mill works.
Alicia Rhyme was not a particularly violent student. She was a first year Hufflepuff, and she exceeded in Herbology and Potions, which she felt went hand-in-hand. She always let her work speak for her, aiming to impress people to the point where they couldn't deny her presence, but she rarely spoke out.
So, of course, the one time she got into a fight with a fellow student, she was not expecting the consequences.
"I DO NOT CHEAT!" Alicia stormed. She had her wand out, gripped tightly, hanging by her side. Red sparks flew from the tip, giving evidence to her temper, and shocking the other students around her. Alicia Rhyme, lose control of her magic? Never!
"How else could you beat me in Potions, you filthy mudblood?" sneered a first year Slytherin by the name of Ezekiel Johnson.
Alicia saw red; how dare he? But just then, the dungeon doors opened and it was time for class. She didn't dare continue this where a teacher could witness, especially not a teacher so biased as Professor Snape.
They were brewing a basic cure for boils. Nothing particularly difficult, especially not to one so detail-oriented as Alicia. She made a regular habit of reading instructions three or four times before she even started, after all.
As she meticulously measured her ingredients and brewed her potion, she looked over to Johnson, who was frowning at his cauldron. She desperately hoped something had gone wrong with it. It would serve him right.
It was purely a coincidence that the idiot added the wrong ingredient; Alicia had nothing to do with it. As Johnson tipped the ingredient in, the reaction was immediate.
It exploded, covering him with the brew.
The funny thing about that potion is, if you do anything wrong, it's very like to cause boils instead of curing them. Hence, Johnson's face was covered in boils, and probably a good part of the rest of him, since his robes were absolutely soaked through.
The Slytherins looked at him in shock. No matter how bad a potioneer he was, he had never made anything explode before; therefore, there had to be an outside cause.
Someone whispered that it was Alicia's fault; she had been arguing with him before class, so she was the logical choice. Someone swore she must have fired a spell at the cauldron.
By the end of the day, Alicia was listening with horror and not a little amusement as someone nearby swore she had walked up to Johnson, picked his cauldron up, and dumped it over his head.
Hope you all enjoy this, I was inspired by reading a HP/YGO crossover. Another shortie, but I'm having a bit of writer's block on my planned story, so this is sort of...I don't know...an apology/I-love-my-readers? Let me know what you think!