1 - Detention

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A/N This is the first fanfic I've ever written, not sure how it'll go. I'm actually really nervous about this and in all honesty if I even finish this one I'm not sure I'll be writing others. Any Slytherin-bashing I do in this story is based on the anti-Slytherin viewpoints of Harry Potter and Gryffindor House as seen in the original Holy Seven books. It is not my own view. I personally am a Slytherin, and proud to be so. However, my protagonist is a Gryffindor who shares opinions towards Slytherin House akin to those of her Gryffindor peers. Please don't hate on me for bashing Slytherin, believe me it's killing me too.

A/N pt2 I'm not LGBTQIA+ personally, but I am a strong ally. It kills me to see homophobia, transphobia, or any other kind of discrimination against people because of something they can't change. If any of you need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to reach out to someone for help. :) Stay awesome!

Disclaimer: All HP characters/places/references belong to Our Queen J.K. Rowling (long may she live!) and are not mine. The character of Violet Turpington is mine. The plot is mine as well.


*Trigger Warning: Minor mentions of self-harm and homophobia*


-3rd Person POV-

"I've got one piece of delicious candy left!" announced Violet jovially at the start of double Potions. "It would be a shame if someone were to steal it!" she added, taking her seat. Snape hadn't entered the room yet, after all it was the first class of the morning and he was still probably at breakfast or picking on some poor Hufflepuff somewhere, which was appreciated by Violet since she surely would have gotten a detention for carrying candy around.

Halfway through class, in the middle of preparing a Wideye potion, Violet felt a Puking Pastille levitate from her pocket, and saw it inconspicuously float towards the Slytherin sitting beside her out of the corner of her bright green eyes. After a few minutes, the wretched third year heaved into a cauldron. Luckily, the vomiting episode meant that she and the twins' effort to reduce the distance of the spew had succeeded. Unluckily, the Slytherin (Violet was pretty sure her name was Twycross, Yuli Twycross) called Snape over.

"Professor! Violet tried to poison me! She gave me a piece of candy, and I ate it and threw up! I bet the blood traitors helped her."

"That's not true! She stole it from me!"

"Miss Turpington, I wish to see you after Potions has ended. You too, Misters Weasley."

Two rows over, Violet heard a whisper from a person she knew all too well. "If he wants to see us after Potions ends, all the bloody git has to do is look at us, eh Georgie? If he wants to meet with us, that's a different matter. And McGonagall tells me to be specific."

Snape turned and glared at the twins. "Which one of you said that?"

"Said what? I didn't hear anything, did you Fred?" George snickered.

"I didn't hear a thing either!"

"It was me, Professor," Violet lied, sighing in mock defeat. "I'm a master of ventriloquy."

"Yeah, Professor, it's a muggle talent. Of which you have none," Fred put in, grinning.

"Come to think of it, he doesn't have any Wizarding talents either, Freddie," George added helpfully with a grin of his own. Snape's usual pasty appearance was gradually becoming a deep purple, which clashed immensely with the greasy black fibers he dared call hair. The murder was vivid in his dark eyes as he snapped his head back at the twins. By then, all the other students had filed out. Snape had a free period next, as did Violet (who had been planning to use it to start her Charms essay on the importance of speaking clearly when casting spells, which was a week overdue).

"Get. In. My. Office. Now," he spoke in a low voice. Dangerously low. The order was immediately followed by the three, the smirks wiped solemnly from their faces by their furious professor.

Once seated in the dark cramped closet of an office, the three guilty-faced Gryffindors turned to face Snape, whose face had begun to return to its normal color. It was currently a sickly shade of dark pink, which somehow was even uglier than the purple. "I don't wish to hear anything from you, Miss Turpington," he said calmly, noticing that Violet was opening her mouth to protest, though his words were laced with venom and contempt at the only students since the Marauder Era that dared harass him. Why couldn't the redhead heathens not be more like Percival, the only Gryffindor he could stand besides Lily? At least he was productive and never spoke out of turn.

"The three of you will be serving detention with me tonight. Come at nine o'clock. I am quite fed up with your shenanigans. Leave your wands in your dormitories."

"But Professor -" George blurted, before clapping his hand over his mouth. Violet remembered why. George had planned an elaborate date for that night.

"That. Is. Final," breathed Snape. "Talk back again and I will personally make sure you are expelled with the utmost disgrace. Now get out of my sight."


-Violet POV-

"He's gonna kill me, Vi," George pulls at his hair as Fred gently pries his fingers out of the tangled red mane. George's anxiety has decreased significantly since he came out and started dating his longtime crush last winter, about a year ago, but when anything goes minorly wrong he goes back to his old obsessive behaviors, especially pulling his hair. At least he wasn't cutting himself. I knew it killed Fred inside, all the nights he used to spend rocking and cuddling his closeted brother every time he noticed their shaving razor out of place, usually bloody. The cutting had stopped after George had come out first to Molly, and then the rest of his family (Fred had known for almost a year prior but hadn't said anything as it was his brother's secret to share). He was immediately showered with very loving support from all but Percy, who insisted that "love is between a man and a woman" and all that jazz (Percy woke up the following morning to a swarm of Doxies surrounding his bed and on the desk a vial marked 'Doxycide' but in reality contained Swelling Solution, to which his shrieks could be heard from everywhere in the Burrow). George was glad his family was so supportive, and the cutting had stopped. The hair-pulling remained, but Fred was working on it with him.

"It's okay, George," I smile, ruffling his hair as Fred pries his brother's hands out. "Lee won't mind. Knowing him he'd probably come serve detention with you just so he could be with you."

"Y-yeah. You're right. I have the best boyfriend ever. Thanks Vi, thanks Fred," he says, trudging towards the Gryffindor common room to tell Lee that his special Valentine's Day date would have to be postponed to the next day.

After George leaves, Fred turns to me. "Did he tell you about the date he planned?"

I shake my head. "I knew about Flitwick's choir serenading Lee in the Great Hall, and about the banquet the house-elves were supposed to prepare, and the bottle of Firewhiskey he stashed under Lee's bed with the cheesy Muggle valentine. Why, Fred, was there more?" I add sarcastically.

Fred grows red in the face. "Well, he told me that he was... going to give himself to Lee tonight." Before I get a chance to squeal like a child that's been given candy, Fred looks down bitterly at the cobbled path in the courtyard. "But now he can't do that, because Snape's being a git."

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