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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞
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"Gryffindors, follow me, please." Percy's voice filled the massive corridor as he led the first year Gryffindors to the staircases. "Keep up. Thank you."
Next to the group of small eleven year olds was an identical group of Ravenclaws being directed by their prefect.
"This is the most direct path to the dormitories." Percy gestured to the staircase that he was standing on, not gaining the attention of his group. Lydia's eyes were trained upwards, gazing and the moving paintings and the moving staircases.
"Oh, and keep an eye on the staircases," a smirk worked its way onto the redhead's face as he watched the eleven year olds grip onto the rail as the floor under them shifted. "They like to change."
As they walked up numerous numbers of stairs, the kids around Lydia were staring in awe at the talking and moving paintings. Upon reaching the seventh floor, Percy led them to a painting of a rather large woman. The Fat Lady tilted her head and asked, "password?"
"Caput Draconis." The Fat Lady nodded in confirmation and swung aside to reveal a large, high ceilinged room with red and gold splashed everywhere the eye could see.
"Gather 'round here. Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room. Boy's dormitories, upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right. You'll find that your belongings have already been brought up." Lydia and Hermione looked at eachother, a mischievous glimmer in the former's eye. The two pushed past each other and ran up the stairs, giggling as the bumped shoulders and raced up to their common room. Lydia, having made it up the stairs faster than Hermione, busted down the door and scanned the room for her stuff. The two girls' beds were right next to each other.
As night quickly fell and the moon rose above the castle, Lydia was perched on the windowsill closest to her bed, laying on her back with her legs extended above her. A copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard held above her head as her eyes rapidly soaked in the information.
On the other side of the tower, on an identical windowsill, sat the boy who lived, happily content that he was no longer in a place he hated.
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"Come on, wake up, wake up, wake up!" The voice and the shaking of her body suddenly jolted her from her peaceful slumber. Her eyes opened groggily to see her bushy haired friend standing beside her bed, already wearing her uniform.
"'Mione? What are you doing up?" The strawberry blonde asked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.
"What do you mean? It's already six o'clock. Classes start in two hours, now come on. I want to get a headstart on my reading at breakfast." The brunette skipped away after that, telling her friend that she would be waiting in the common room.
The girl swung her legs over the side of her bed and grabbed her uniform, changing into it in a zombie-like state. As she grabbed her bag and head down the stairs she was met with the slightly agitated face of Hermione who shook her head after looking at her watch and grabbed Lydia's hand, taking off towards the Great Hall.
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Sitting next to Hermione in the Transfiguration classroom, she scribbled away at her parchment, doodling a little bird in the corner of her work. The heavy door swung open to reveal two out of breath boys who looked insanely relieved to not see McGonagall sitting at her desk.
"Whew, we made it. Can you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late?" Ron's voice was loud against the silence that had previously been emerging from the kids in the classroom. Not a second later, the black and gray tabby jumped from its perch on the desk and transformed into a pissed looking McGonagall.
"That was bloody brilliant." Ron and Harry's faces were painted with shock and awe at the transformation. Lydia's head dropped to the desk with a subtle thump at her cousin's absolute stupidity.
"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket watch, that way one of you might be on time." McGonagall's stern voice scolded the boys.
"We got lost." Harry tried to reason.
"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats."
