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Harry Potter and the Girl in Red

An innocent, delicate flower is ripped from her home and dropped into a world where nothing makes sense. Armed with her intelligence and imaginary friend, and owning nothing but the magical clothes on her back (and anything that will fit in her picnic basket), Rose Peta-Lorrum must now survive the trials of the Rowling Plane. Warning: Starts out light and cracky, but gets darker the farther in you get. ~~~~~~ Written by Id (idX) ~~~~~~ Read on it’s original website: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6835726

Leylin_Farlier · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
191 Chs

Lessons

After the feast, the Gryffindor students were escorted to their common room by an older boy with orange hair. Hermione noticed that he didn't just have orange hair, but it was perfectly combed. Most of the boys had messy hair, but this boy didn't have one hair out of place. Hermione wondered if he was using magic to keep his hair so neat. She would love a spell that could keep her own hair in check; it was impossible to manage. The bushy haired girl had given up on trying to deal with it years ago, but if she could just use magic for it, then her troubles might be over.

"My name is Percy Weasley," he said. "I'm one of the fifth-year prefects. There are six prefects in total in Gryffindor; two from years five, six and seven."

Rose also noticed his orange hair, but what she noticed was that it was the exact same shade of orange as three of the other students. Flipping through her notebook, she saw that one of the first-years was named Ronald Weasley. That most likely meant that there were four Weasley students at Hogwarts, all of whom had been sorted into Gryffindor. She circled the name "Weasley" in her notebook as Reflectesalon gave her the highlights of Percy's lecture on the school's command structure. That couldn't be a coincidence; they would probably be important at some point. There were too many of them for them to be PCs, so they would probably just be support characters.

The shortest one, presumably Ronald, was following Harry Potter around like a lost puppy. Many of the girls had spent dinner talking about Harry, which led Rose to wonder where she had heard his name. At the end of dinner, it finally occurred to Rose where she had heard it. He was famous for defeating Dark Lord What's-His-Name when he was a baby, which probably made him a PC, or Player Character. That meant that Ronald would probably become Harry's cohort if Harry decided to take Leadership.

In Rose's world, PCs were the important people. It was about PCs that songs were written and stories were told, rather than NPCs, or Non-Player Characters. Whereas the PCs were important, NPCs were disposable, easily mistaken for inanimate objects.

As Rose wrote down the word "Cohort" next to Ronald's name, they arrived at the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, which was guarded by a portrait of a large woman. Percy explained that they would need a password to enter the Common Room.

"Does the Fat Lady always let a person in when they give the password?" Rose asked.

"Yes, she does," Percy replied. "Further, you must give the password for her to let you inside the Common Room."

"Why protect it?" Rose asked.

"It's to keep out the Slytherins," whispered the boy that Reflectesalon confirmed was Ronald.

"Not just the Slytherins, Ronald," Percy scolded. "The four houses can be a bit competitive, so it's better to keep each one safe from the others."

Rose made a note of this while Percy told everyone the password. As Rose was once again not paying attention, Reflectesalon, being the sensible one, later informed her of the password.

The Gryffindor Common Room itself was rather cozy. There was a fireplace on one wall, with a few couches and chairs littered here and there. There were a few bookshelves, but upon further inspection, they were mostly filled with books on Quidditch, whatever that was. The entire room was decorated with red and gold.

"Boys, if you'll come with me, I'll show you to your room!" Percy called out. He led the five boys out of the room and up a staircase.

"What about us?!" one of the other girls called after him.

"The other fifth-year prefect should be along shortly!" Percy shouted back.

"Great!" the girl complained. "What are we supposed to do until then?!"

"Why don't we all get to know one another?" suggested another girl with bronze skin. "My name's Parvati Patil."

"Lavender Brown," grumbled the other girl.

"Rose Peta-Lorrum!"

"Hermione Granger."

"S-sally-Anne Perks," stuttered Sally-Anne.

Sally-Anne had already decided that she didn't belong there. Ever since getting off the train, it had been one surge of mystery and wonder after another. She was scared and amazed at the same time, but being around so many new people who all seemed to know what was going on was starting to bother her. It wouldn't have bothered her so much except that she hadn't the faintest idea what she was doing.

Now they were left alone in their common room, abandoned by the only authority figure, with a faint promise that another would show up to explain everything.

"Alex Nertlyn."

The five girls turned to see another girl with black, curly hair climbing through the portrait.

"Sorry about that, girls, Professor McGonagall needed me for something. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your rooms. Unfortunately, the first-years always get the top floor, so it's a bit of a hike."

Lavender groaned again, but Rose just grinned. She skipped along just behind Alex as the latter led the girls up the winding staircase. To Rose's dismay, this one didn't move.

"Word of caution while climbing these stairs," Alex said on the way up. "The girls' rooms are protected by a ward that turns the staircase into a slide if one of the boys tries to come up here. It gets really annoying if the boys find out, so don't tell them. The boys have been known to follow a girl up here just to make her fall back down."

"So if one of our housemates harasses us, we can't escape?" gasped Sally-Anne.

"If one of your housemates is harassing you," Alex replied. "You come straight to me, or to Percy, or to Professor McGonagall. She's our house head, and if one of her own is doing something like that, she'll sort it. Trust me, you don't want to cross her."

Sally-Anne let out a small sigh of relief. Of everything she had learned about Hogwarts, that was the most terrifying to her. Why was that like that? Did the teachers think it was protecting the girls? Why not just put a barrier that specifically kept out boys? Why turn the stairs into a slide? That made no sense! They had magic! If there was anything fairy tales had taught her, it was that magic was only limited by imagination.

They reached the top floor, finding a semi-circular room with five beds lining the curved wall and a window between each one. Several trunks and bags were placed on four of the beds. The only empty bed was the closest one on their left.

"Well, it's not much," Alex said, "but for the next year, it's home. Feel free to decorate anyway you like, but remember there are five of you, so I'd suggest that you clear anything major with your roommates first. Also, as you may have noticed, your belongings have already been brought up for you. They were just placed on the beds at random, so you can always change beds if you like."

Alex waited to see five heads nodding to at least show that they were paying attention. After seeing three heads (Lavender still seemed sour about walking up seven flights of stairs and Rose wasn't paying attention), she took it and continued.

"Curfew is at nine, so please don't be out of Gryffindor Tower past then. Not only has the Fat Lady been known to fall asleep past then, but you will get in trouble if Filch catches you."

Rose raised her hand.

"Yes, er, Rose, was it?"

"Yup!" Rose beamed. "What if we can't sleep? Are we allowed to go to the common room?"

"As long as you don't leave Gryffindor Tower," Alex replied.

"Also, you said 'If Filch catches us'," Rose continued.

"It's really not a risk worth taking. The prefects take turns patrolling the castle at night, and even the professors occasionally take midnight strolls. If none of them catch you, then the portraits may report on you if they catch you. The only ones who never seem to get caught are the Weasley Twins, but anyone else who tries gets caught sooner or later. And then we all get in trouble."

Rose nodded, and wrote down "Weasley Twins?" in her notebook.

"Rose, if you don't mind me asking," Alex said, "are you taking notes?"

"Yup!" Rose replied, as cheerful as ever. "My friend Shadow told me that it's a good way to analyse information all at once, rather than relying on my memory, which could distort the facts."

"I guess that makes sense," Alex replied. "Let's see, what else… curfew, annoying stairs, Weasley Twins… Oh! Right! The House Cup. You'll hear talk about house points. Teachers can award house points to you if they think you're doing a good job, and of course, they can take away house points as punishment. That all goes towards the House Cup, which is awarded at the end of every year."

"What about our schedules?" Hermione asked.

"You'll get them tomorrow morning during breakfast," Alex replied.

"Will we have time to get our books before class?"

"You should," Alex said. "I can't say I know your schedules now, so I can't help you, and yes, there are six floors between the Great Hall and Gryffindor Tower, and then another seven flights to get to your rooms. I'm so sorry. If it's any consolation, I don't know my schedule either."

Looking out at her new charges, Alex saw that the only one still happy was Rose, but Alex was also starting to think that there was something wrong with her. This was supported by Professor McGonagall herself pulling Alex aside after dinner and informing her that the Transfiguration Professor believed there to be something amiss with the crimson-haired girl.

"Remember, even though I'm a prefect, I'm specifically assigned to you girls," Alex said. "That won't change until I graduate, so until then, if you've ever got any problems, no matter what time it is, I'm happy to listen. If it's a problem with adjusting to life at Hogwarts, your classmates are harassing you, or you just want to talk about boys, my door's always open. With that, I'll let you all get comfortable. Breakfast starts at seven and goes til eight thirty."

After Alex left, the first-year girls began to settle into their new beds. Rose took the empty bed, with the next bed clockwise from hers being taken by Sally-Anne, then Lavender, Parvati, and Hermione on the far wall from Rose.

"Rose, haven't you got any belongings?" asked Sally-Anne as she unpacked her own things.

"All right here!" Rose exclaimed, holding up her left hand. She shook her arm a few times, causing the charms on her bracelet to jingle together.

"Huh?" Sally-Anne asked.

"It's a wand bracelet! I've got my portable hole for anything I don't need immediately." Rose indicated a black circle charm. "Then, I've got my efficient quiver for wands and staves, my infinite scrollcase for all of my scrolls, and finally my Picnic Basket for miscellaneous tools!"

"I got 'picnic basket' out of that," Parvati said.

"Um…" Lavender tried to formulate a question, but couldn't find the right words. "What?"

"I know what you're all thinking," Rose said. "'How can a wand bracelet hold all of that?' The limit is four charms, so no problems there. Surprisingly enough, a portable hole doesn't actually weigh anything, and there's no size limit, just a weight limit of three pounds." She grinned. "My picnic basket is a lightweight handy haversack, but I don't really worry about it not being able to carry as much."

The four girls stared at her. Rose rolled over and grinned back at them.

"I'm not sure about the rest of you," Lavender said, "but that was not what I was thinking."

"Is that normal?" Sally-Anne asked Parvati.

"No," Parvati replied, shaking her head. "At least, I've never heard of that stuff."

Hermione tried to tune out the strange girl. It seemed like all the boys talked about was Quidditch or the House Cup. Most of the girls had gossiped over dinner, mostly about Harry Potter, and Rose had just rambled on about nonsense. Hermione decided that she'd need to find some Ravenclaws if she wanted some decent conversation.

Hermione wasn't ignorant enough to believe that she'd read about everything, but nothing Rose was saying made any sense to her. She expected to understand at least something Rose said, but she couldn't keep up with any of it. There must've been plenty of students with older siblings that taught them something about magic, but Rose kept spouting facts that no one else recognized. Why was it that Rose didn't make sense, while everyone else did.

Sally-Anne, on the other hand, was almost delighted. Having small charms to carry one's luggage seemed like a great idea. That's what magic was all about in her mind. It was solving problems in creative ways.

During breakfast the next morning, Alex distributed schedules to the first-year Gryffindor girls, while Percy distributed them to the first-year Gryffindor boys.

Rose looked down at her schedule. First class of the day was Transfiguration, which sounded like fun.

What confused Rose about her schedule was that classes were scattered throughout the week with no pattern or consistency. It looked like there were two periods before lunch, then a break, then class after lunch on some days.

At Arcrel, most classes were twice a week, with days at the start of the week typically reflecting those at the end of the week. That had made perfect sense to Rose, but there was no regularity in her Hogwarts schedule. Who scheduled it? It was as if someone had just randomly assigned times to classes, with no rhyme or reason; like someone had just kept tossing a d6 to pick classes.

Earlier that Summer

"Albus, why must you use dice to schedule the classes?" Minerva asked as Albus rolled the cube again.

"When one is a target of the Ministry's scrutiny as often as I am, Minerva," Albus replied. "One must enjoy a bit of whimsy every now and again."

"'Whimsy?'" Minerva asked skeptically. "Like sending over a thousand letters to the Dursleys using even more ridiculous delivery methods?"

"That was necessary to ensure that they were received."

"Or always using sweets for passwords?"

"Those are easier for me to remember."

"Or using your opening words to give everyone a hint as to the year's password to your office?"

Albus paused for a moment.

"That, Minerva, is most certainly whimsy."

Minerva sighed as Albus popped a lemon drop in his mouth and tossed the die again.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall told her students. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

For each class, two houses were paired together. For Transfiguration, Gryffindor was paired with Hufflepuff. Rose had expected Professor McGonagall to know their faces already, being her house, but what had surprised Rose was that McGonagall had mentally called roll as each student walked in the door. That implied that Professor McGonagall not only knew their faces, but the faces of the Hufflepuffs as well.

"Now, can anyone tell me exactly what Transfiguration is?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air.

"Ms. Granger?"

"Transfiguration is a branch of magic that deals with the alteration of an object's appearance or structure," Hermione recited from their textbook.

"Correct, Ms. Granger. Three points to Gryffindor."

"As Ms. Granger said, Transfiguration deals with the alteration of an object. It is for this reason, that, as I stated earlier, it is widely considered one of the most potent, and therefore dangerous branches of magic. Would anyone care to take a guess as to what the most important rule of Transfiguration is?"

Minerva believed in actively engaging her students, regardless of whether her students wanted to be engaged. Unfortunately, today that style of teaching had the potential to backfire on Minerva, because today Rose Peta-Lorrum was in her class. And, to Minerva's dismay, it was Peta-Lorrum whose hand was in the air before anyone else could react. Minerva suppressed a groan.

I'm sure I'll regret this later, she thought. "Ms. Peta-Lorrum?"

"'The most important rule of Transfiguration is that one must know the exact effects of, and a means of reversing, a spell before one casts it.'"

Minerva blinked. That was coherent. That wasn't just coherent, it was correct. On top of that, it was from one of Minerva's own research papers. Word for word. Rose Peta-Lorrum had memorized something out of Minerva's own work. Not even the Ravenclaws prepared that thoroughly.

"Well done, Ms. Peta-Lorrum," Minerva said, none of her shock betrayed by her face. "Another three points to Gryffindor."

Rose beamed.

<See, Ref? Didn't I say doing some extra reading last night was a good idea?>

<We were almost caught.>

<Nah, I was invisible.>

<But the greater prying eyes weren't.>

<We were fine!>

"This is of course correct," Professor McGonagall continued. "One should never attempt a spell until one knows exactly what it will do, and exactly how to reverse it. This means that one needs to know what the effects of the spell are before one casts it."

The rest of the class was spent discussing theory, something that they would be doing frequently, according to Professor McGonagall.

Fortunately for Rose, who was getting bored with theory, they would be practicing actual Transfiguration later. They would first be studying a spell to turn a matchstick into a pin, and then at the end of the class they would actually attempt it.

About 20 minutes before class ended, McGonagall distributed matchsticks to the class.

"To test your basic understanding of Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall told them, "you will be attempting to transfigure these matchsticks into pins. Don't worry if you can't do it yet, this is only an initial evaluation of your current skill levels."

Wait, what? Spellcasting isn't skill-based, thought Rose as a matchstick was placed in front of her. She slid her left hand into her sleeve and produced Serendipity. Rose wanted to maintain the charade that she actually needed to store Serendipity somewhere that wasn't her glove.

Rose power surged Serendipity, but extended the infusion so the charges would last longer than 20 minutes, which was the typical duration of power surge. There was no sense in wasting three charges, after all.

In Rose's world, adventurers could take feats as they grew in strength. Feats varied in usefulness, but there were none quite like metamagic feats. These feats all modified spells or infusions, and one such feat was called Extend Spell. This feat doubled the duration of a spell or infusion, at the cost of a higher level slot. So instead of using power surge as a third-level infusion as Rose typically did, she was using it as a fourth-level infusion.

The difference was that Rose could use less fourth-level infusions than she could third-level infusions each day. Given how infrequently she used her other infusions, she wasn't concerned about this limit.

Rose practiced the wand motions a few times to make sure that she got them right. Regardless of whether she got the wand motions correct, the effects would still be the same. That being the case, Rose didn't want to make a mistake and draw suspicion to herself. Rather, she wanted people to believe that she actually needed a wand to cast spells.

Rose muttered an inaudible incantation and tapped her matchstick. Using Serendipity, Rose replicated the spell polymorph any object to turn the matchstick into a pin for the next few hours.

"Well done," Professor McGonagall said as she walked past. She picked up the pin on Rose's desk, and dropped it. There was an almost inaudible tink as it hit the ground. "Very well done. Five points to Gryffindor."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Rose replied, beaming.

Professor McGonagall turned to Hermione, who had what looked like a metal toothpick on her desk. Just as she had done with Rose's pin, Professor McGonagall dropped it on the ground, and it made a similar tink sound.

"You too, Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall praised her. "Not perfect, but phenomenal nonetheless. Four points to Gryffindor."

She picked up the metal toothpick, and took Rose's pin from her desk.

"Class, pay attention. This is what I expect from each of you by the end of the month." Professor McGonagall held up the two pins.

Rose looked around and realized that she and Hermione were the only two that had made any progress at all. Rose held up her hand to Hermione, who gave Rose a very hesitant high-five.

Sally-Anne watched this, then looked down at her own matchstick. She couldn't get it to so much as change color. Sally-Anne was happy for her friends, but still disappointed that she couldn't get it. She had been so excited about doing magic that she hadn't stopped to think that it was like any other skill. It took practice and hard work to master it. Magic wasn't just something that came naturally to people.

Unless you were Hermione Granger or Rose Peta-Lorrum.

No one was particularly impressed with their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Professor Quirrell had a stutter, which made it difficult to take him seriously. He also reeked of garlic, something that only made sense to Rose. After all, vampires detested garlic, so it was a good way to repel them, although Rose had always found holy symbols to be more effective.

<Curious,> Reflectesalon told Rose part way through class.

<What is it?>

<I have been trying for a few minutes now, but I have been unable to detect Professor Quirrell's mind.>

<Didn't you have the same problem with Professor Dumbledore when we first met him?>

<Correct.>

<Interesting. I'll need to find out how they're doing that.>

After Defence Against the Dark Arts, or DADA as some older students called it, was lunch, and after lunch was Herbology.

None of the girls much cared for Herbology, although their teacher, Professor Sprout, was one of the best teachers they would encounter at Hogwarts. She engaged the class, believed in teaching by doing, but was careful to explain all the rules before diving into the interactive part of the lesson. Hermione admired her teaching style, and noted that she showed genuine interest in each and every student.

Professor Sprout walked by every student to ensure that they understood what they were doing, and helped them along when they didn't.

The next day the Gryffindors had Charms and History of Magic. Sally-Anne found it interesting that Professor Flitwick, their Charms Professor, was a former dueling champion. It made sense to have someone that talented teaching them, although he was more than a little absentminded.

Professor Flitwick was short, no more than four feet tall. He stood on stack of books to teach the class, although he fell off of it when he read Harry's name.

Sally-Anne didn't understand why everyone was making such a big deal about him. He was only a boy. From what Sally-Anne had heard from Lavender and Parvati, Harry was some big hero, but he didn't really act like it.

After that minor hiccup, class went smoothly. Professor Flitwick was intelligent, and his antics actually helped Sally-Anne pay attention to him.

While Hermione nearly lost respect for their professor a few times, the moment he brought the books that littered the classroom to life and had them clean themselves up, he had earned her respect. He knew what he was doing.

This was in severe contrast to their History of Magic professor, Professor Binns. Rose would have thought that a ghost would be good at teaching history, or at least very knowledgable on the subject. He still might have been knowledgable, but Rose wouldn't know, due to how difficult it was to pay attention to him.

Professor Binns just drawled on and on, never making an attempt to engage the class. He spoke in a soft voice with little inflection. Half the class, including Sally-Anne, fell asleep within 20 minutes of listening to him.

Rose could easily stay awake; Binns paid about as much attention to the class as the class did to him, so Rose just pulled out her sketchbook and started drawing to pass the time.

Had Rose paid any attention to her professors during meals, then she probably would have noticed the Potions Master earlier. This not being the case, Potions class on Friday was the first time that Rose saw just how much the Potions Master resembled her best friend, Shadow.

He wore a black cloak, black shoes, black trousers, and a look of disinterest mixed with contempt on his face. All he needed was a black mask and to be a few feet shorter, and Rose would have thought that Shadow was actually teaching them Potions.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," Professor Snape began in a dark, monotone voice. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few… who possess the predisposition… I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

Professor Snape glared at everyone, but he seemed to especially despise Harry Potter. Out of the blue, he threw a volley of questions from their textbook at Harry. Rose and Hermione both knew the answers to each question, as each one had already read their textbook twice, but someone who didn't necessarily enjoy learning wouldn't have known the answers.

Rose noticed that Hermione, who was sitting next to Rose, kept raising her hand whenever Professor Snape asked a question. She leaned over and whispered to the bushy-haired girl.

"He's singling out Harry, so I doubt he'll call on you."

Hermione glanced over at her, and, unfortunately, so did Professor Snape.

"Something to share with the class, Ms…?"

"Peta-Lorrum, Sir!" Rose exclaimed, ever cheerful. "Rose Peta-Lorrum, and I was just commenting to Hermione, who was being studious and ignoring me, that I like your cloak and was wondering how you get it to billow like that all the time."

If Professor Snape was as similar to Shadow as Rose thought he was, then he should respond to something like that with skepticism. It probably didn't help that a few of the students snickered. Rose looked around, looking confused.

"Keep your comments to yourself, Peta-Lorrum," Professor Snape snapped. "Five points from Gryffindor."

Professor Snape fired one last question at Harry, then took five more points from Gryffindor.

Hermione idly wondered if all of Professor Snape's punishments would be so arbitrary. As class went on, Hermione noticed that Professor Snape showed blatant favoritism towards Slytherin, the house with whom they had been paired for Potions, only showing attention to Gryffindor whenever anyone made a mistake.

After class, Severus was approached by Peta-Lorrum. Severus grumbled, having already decided that he didn't like the girl. He had little patience for class clowns, especially Gryffindors.

"Professor Snape?"

"What is it, Peta-Lorrum?" he asked impatiently.

"Two things: First, I wasn't joking, I really do like your cloak."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, girl," Severus snapped, giving the girl his trademark glare. "And the second?"

"A few places in our textbook, the author explains how to create these complicated potions to save a person from poison, but as you mentioned in class, and the author elaborates in chapter seven, a bezoar will save a person from most of them. Why go through the trouble if one can just obtain a bezoar from the stomach of a goat? It would make sense if goats were endangered, but they're not, are they?"

When Minerva had told him that Peta-Lorrum had gone so far as to read one of Minerva's own research papers in preparation for class, Severus hadn't been sure what to make of it. Gryffindors were rarely studious, if ever, which probably meant that the girl was cheating somehow. Severus made a mental note to keep an eye on Peta-Lorrum.

"Your textbook is only for beginners, Peta-Lorrum. It isn't meant to be practical, it's meant to instruct you on the basics of potion making."

"Oh," Rose replied. "I guess that makes sense. Thank you, Professor!"

"If that's all, then you should run along," Professor Snape said. Rose thought he didn't sound as annoyed at her anymore, but Reflectesalon assured her that it was her imagination.

"That's all," Rose said. "Sorry for disrupting your class earlier. Have a good day!"

She waved to the Potions Master, and skipped out of the Dungeons.

<Well?> she asked Reflectesalon on her way out.

<He is suspicious of you.>

<Perfect.>

That night, Hermione sat up reading. She was determined to learn all about this strange new world of hers, so she began rereading her books. She checked out several more books from the library, although for some reason, the librarian had seemed against it. What sort of librarian didn't want people checking out books?

Now and then, Hermione would glance over at Rose, who was still awake. What was with that girl? She always had the answers in class, and simply walked through her day as if nothing mattered. Rose wouldn't take anything seriously, and kept rambling on about her imaginary world.

It had taken a while to piece it together, but Hermione had finally realized that Rose's world was in fact fake. In all the books Hermione had read, there was no mention of anything Rose talked about. Nothing remotely close to a "wand bracelet" or "prying eyes", although the latter still confused Hermione, who had seen it first hand. It was probably some sort of trick if it wasn't a spell.

Hermione no longer cared. She had decided to read all night if she had to, desperate to stay ahead of the bizarre girl. Whatever happened in this strange world, she was still at school, and if there was one thing Hermione knew about school, it's that if you study hard enough, you can get by.

The task of late night reading was made increasingly difficult by Rose herself, who kept laughing to herself.

"Rose, would you please stop that?" hissed Hermione. "I can't read with you constantly talking to yourself."

"I'm not talking to myself," Rose replied. "I'm talking to my brother."

Hermione looked around, but, as she suspected, she saw no one. That meant that she had been right all along; the girl's brother was imaginary. If her brother was imaginary, then that probably meant her entire made up world was imaginary too.

"Hermione," Rose whispered. "You should get some sleep."

"So should you," Hermione replied without taking her eyes off of her book.

"I'm hyperkinetic, so I don't need as much sleep."

"That's not how it works," Hermione huffed. "I've read about hyperkinesia, and it's a serious problem. You can't just decide not to sleep. You should see someone about it immediately."

"Okay, I tried," Rose sighed. "I've got a ring of greater sustenance, so I only need two hours of sleep to get the benefits of eight hours."

"That's even less believable."

"I figured you wouldn't believe that, despite it being the truth. Technically, both of my claims were."

"Sure," Hermione replied, still not looking up.

"Anyway," Rose said. "Final warning: Go to sleep."

"I'm fine," snapped Hermione.

Rose sighed.

"Alright. Hard way it is."

Hermione looked up and saw Rose standing next to her. She jumped, startled by the girl's sudden appearance.

"Sleep!"

The instant the wand touched her, Hermione fell asleep.

Rose pulled Hermione's covers over her and put the other girl's wand and book back in her bag. Satisfied, Rose appeared back at her own bed. She put her goggles in her basket, then pulled her cloak over her. Shortly after she hummed her Mum's lullaby, Rose fell asleep.