DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, in fact, I'm not even British.

First fanfic, really, I have nothing else to say...

Except for the fact that i don't own HP,

Nope.

Already did that.

Sorry, sometimes- a lot of times- I get distracted, ADHD?

possibly.

though it brings me distress to say its more possible than me ever owing HP.

shoot we did that...


This of course;

The laughing and giggling up in their dorms, in their night dress, after curfew, a few cups of hot cocoa each, no doubt spiked with Firewhiskey by Mary, the gossip about anything and everything, the embarrassing stories and on-and-off games of truth or dare;

Was not at all what Lee had expected that night to be.

She, Ashley Bermuda, did not expect them at all, the girls shed spent 5 years of her life with at Hogwarts, the girls that slept in the same room as her, to name the entire night 'make fun of Ashley Bermuda'. Where pretty drunk girls hiccuped and giggled about a girl, that literally sat in the same room.

Was it fair to say that she had been a part of it though?

She even hated herself.

And she would never forget that night, much like how she would never forget any of her real friends (If you counted bits of parchment with drawings on them).

Sure she lived in that dorm with Alice Prewett, Mary Macdonald and Lily Evans, sure those girls had always giggled with eachother before bed about an inside joke of some sort, sure Lee was always lying in her four-poster bed eyeing everything that wasn't one of those girls, sure she pretended to be asleep to not hear those insufferable conversations she could never understand.

But she longed to be a part of them, so terribly.

And during those few, delicate and sought-out moments at night, when she was wide-awake when no-one else was, when she could think, cry, mumble to herself and laugh without anyone giving her weird side-ways glances or fake looks of sympathy and pity, she would sneak out the Gryffindore common room and down the moving stair cases to the 4th floor, behind a portrait of an old lady petting a peacock, where there was a deserted door handle the the right of the portrait's frame she found her room.

The room where she lived in before Hogwarts, when Dumbledore had- and still has- custody of her.

Hogwarts walls were her family.

She had Hogwarts. Dumbledore was a busy man, he couldnt be with her all the time, running a school wasn't easy, even with magic.

But Hogwarts was magic itself, really. And Hogwarts already had so many people, it could hold one more pubescent, ugly, glasses wearing, slightly plump teen, right?

Nope.

You know why?

Because everybody there that wasn't her was bleeding gorgeous.

What did she have?

A tendency to doodle in her book?

Speaking of which-

"Miss Bermuda, if you would be kind enough to pay attention in class, Id hate to have to result to giving you lower marks than Mr Pettigrew who cant stay awake enough to stop drooling onto his notes." Professor Mcgonagall snapped at Lee, also making fun of Pettigrew in the process.

'Ah, buy one get one free' Lee mused, shed love to be a professor just to abuse the power given. running a hand through her long, tangled, dirty blonde hair, she looked down at her notes to find her drawing of a vanity mirror with birds flying around it, a few twirling wands and an incantation she had no idea of what it might've meant written in sloppy sc.

After deciding to add multiple tattoos onto both the birds and the several bottles of perfume she had also drawn, she turned back to the Professor, currently rambling on about-

Was that a butterfly outside?

It had a pretty pattern on it.

Perhaps it would look nice as a tattoo, she folded her white blouse back to show her bare arm 'Ill need to change that.' she thought and quickly grasped her quill, dipped it into black ink and drew a butterfly.

She liked it, its patterned wings looked really pretty.

She wished she, herself, was pretty.

She sighed and dipped a different quill into red ink, to colour in the butterfly's wings.

She heard snickering, a cough? somebody cleared their throat.

Oops. A sneering Mcgonagall was looking down at her, while the rest of the class, even Pettigrew the bleeding fool, tried to contain their laughter.

"Erm..."

"Why, Miss Bermuda, do i constantly have to remind you to pay attention in class and take notes?! Must we result to detentions for this unacceptable behavior to stop?!" She sighed, exhaustively and held the bridge of her nose.

"But- I- Professor-I-" She spluttered while this time, the class didnt hesitate to laugh. 'Very Gyffindore' she thought and mentally scolded herself. Black and Potter tried to make her laugh behind the professor by pulling funny faces.

But this was serious.

Sirius Black? Argh! He should stop making those funny faces!

Back at the task at hand...

ARGH! BLACK!

Okay, plan B, plan B...

Birth control?

Wait, no, getting off topic...

"But professor, i did take notes." Everybody laughed harder. Great. 'Now Ill get a detention for lying too.'

Mcgonagall shook her head before swooping down to take Lee's parchment off the desk and read, or simply stared at the drawings.

Everybody held their laughter to what the professor would taunt her for next- but it never came.

"Impressive. I must say, an uncommon way of keeping notes," Lee couldn't believe what she was hearing, 'there should be a but in here somewhere' she thought. The professor continued, oblivious to the confused and curious stares the rest of the Gryffindore and Ravenclaws gave her. "but should work non the less, maybe though," Lee mentally awarded herself her a pat on the back for that prediction. "I would love to keep you out of detention and reward you with a few house points if you could demonstrate the spell."

'PLAN C! PLAN D! BACK TO PLAN A IF WE CAN REACH THAT!' Her thoughts burned and broke down going unnoticed by anyone except her in her mind as she made her way to the front of the class.

She held her wand and pointed it at... well there was a desk, a cabinet, a cage with a big yellow lizard in it, a vanity mirror, a book shelf...

'VANITY MIRROR! SCORE!' Now, what else did she draw... there were birds... yes defiantly birds... but she couldn't transfigure a whole bloody mirror into a bird, could she? something smaller... perfume bottles, yes. Okay, now she had to twirl her wand... she remembered drawing four wands... four flicks! Now the bleeding incantation... okay, latin... bird would be... uccello? No! That was Italian... Avis! and perfume? unguento! no, no! That was a synonym... Oh dear... smell? Odor? Scent?

'YES!' her thoughts screamed. With four flicks of a wand she shouted, "ODOREAVIS!" And a few bottles of perfume turned into petite, yellow and orange canaries, they chirped and tried to take flight but crashed into other bottles of perfume.

'Clumsy.' Lee mused, before looking back at Mcgonagall, only to find her with proud look on her face 'Geez, is she almost smiling?' She turned to take her seat when she looked resembled a doe in headlights before getting hit by a car; the class was staring at her, confused and shocked at the same time.

Slacker extraordinaire, Ashley Bermuda, able to preform a transfiguration spell before even the great James Potter himself did it? What a sight indeed. That seemed to take quite a blow to his ego, poor boy.

Lee blushed, her face as red as Evan's hair, scurried off to her seat and looked purposely at her shoes.

"20 points to Gryffindor," Mcgonagall said. "Now, who else would like to demonstrate-"

But Lee ignored that. 'Great, now they probably think I'm a showoff...' She groaned into her desk and picked up her quill again, ready to doodle some more. Something she always said to herself-

There was a tap on her left shoulder, she cocked her head to the side to see Black grinning back at her and giving her a thumbs up. She turned away, confused.

Like she was saying: the one thing she always told herself was, when in doubt, denile, depression, or any other word that started with a 'D' just draw the mickey outta your quill.

And draw the mickey she did.

What?

She liked Disney.


A/N: I dont know where, why, how or when I found the time to think up the idea, let alone write it... erm... what do all the other authors say anyway?

well, reviews would be wildly appreciated, and follows and... erm... *whispers to somebody backstage* i dont know how to do this- this- 'please review' stuff.

Lets call it our pine-cone thing, yeah?

Well please Pine-cone and all.

I'm younger than most authors and its only my first fanfic.

xo- 8tentacledcat

PS. has anyone figured out that my pen name means octopus? I dunno. I like sharing that.

Again, ADHD.