"YOU!" Oleandra and Daphne snarled simultaneously, drawing their wands and shooting out a volley of magical lights in a flash.
There was a bang, followed by a poof of smoke, which cleared away quickly enough to reveal the outline of Professor Snape. In an incredible show of skill, he had just parried both of their spells simultaneously.
Visibly, the restrictions that stopped boys from accessing the girls' dormitory did not apply to teachers…
"That will do," said Professor Snape coolly. "I thought something like this might happen; the two of you, put down your wands, now."
"What is she doing here?" Daphne hissed, pointing at the girl hiding behind Professor Snape's back.
It had all happened so fast; Oleandra, Daphne and Tracey had returned to their dormitory, ready to unpack their luggage, when a very familiar-looking girl had appeared in the doorway. The girl in question poked her head out from behind Professor Snape's billowing robes.
"Good day, cousin Oleandra, cousin Daphne," said Mafalda Prewett snidely, stepping out from behind him once she was confident that she wouldn't be attacked again. "It certainly has been a while."
Mafalda's father, a Squib accountant, was Ron's mother's second cousin; and since the Greengrass girls were first cousins once removed with Ron's mother through their father, this made the Weasley siblings and the Greengrass siblings third cousins with Mafalda. Oleandra had trouble wrapping her head around this sort of thing, but that's just how it was.
(In the Wizarding World, Squibs are considered magical parents and Muggleborns are considered Muggle parents. Mafalda Prewett has a Squib father and a Muggle mother, making her a half-blood, even though neither of her parents can do magic. It's the opposite case for Harry; he has a pure-blood Wizard father and Muggleborn Witch mother, which makes him a half-blood, despite both his parents being magical.)
Mafalda Prewett, being the half-blooded daughter of a Squib, had been constantly bullied by the other Slytherins due to her heritage. Nevertheless, that had never stopped her from becoming a brilliant Witch, proving herself equal to Hermione, who was endowed with formidable cognitive and magical abilities.
"Why is she not in jail?" said Oleandra furiously. "She nearly killed us all in the Chamber of Secrets! She's the Heir of Slytherin, for goodness' sake!"
In their second year at Hogwarts, Mafalda had snapped, unleashing the Basilisk on the school's Muggleborns; but luckily, Oleandra, Daphne, Harry and Ron had quickly put a stop to her plans. Or at least, that's what they thought had happened…
"Professor Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, has seen it fit to petition for her release," said Professor Snape coolly. "He does not believe her to be the true culprit behind the attacks that occurred three years ago."
"But, but," Oleandra stammered. "Then, who's responsible!? Have they been caught? Is that why she's out?"
Professor Snape shook his head, indicating that he did not know. And even if the true culprit was still on the loose, there was no need to close the school again; not since Oleandra had turned Slytherin's monster into robes for herself and Daphne (not that Daphne ever wore the blasted thing).
"Hear that?" said Mafalda coldly. "I'm innocent, so you should be glad I'm not holding a grudge against you for having me locked up."
"Was that a threat?" Oleandra responded, just as coldly.
The truth was, the Heir was still running around Hogwarts to this day in the form of Ginny Weasley, but nobody had guessed it yet. Dumbledore, having learned about the diary of Tom Riddle just a few months ago, had his guesses about Horcruxes, but he still wasn't one hundred percent certain yet.
Nevertheless, Dumbledore had gained the certainty that an innocent girl was suffering for a crime she hadn't committed, and thus he had leapt into action.
It's at this moment that Tracey chose to speak up.
"But how did Professor Dumbledore manage to convince the Ministry to set her free?" she pointed out. "The Ministry wouldn't have let her go this easily; capturing Mafalda was their big win, it showed they had properly managed the Heir of Slytherin situation… Is there any proof that somebody else was behind the attacks?"
"It seems that the Ministry has bigger concerns at the moment," said Professor Snape, his face twisting into a mask of annoyance; it was well known that he wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. "They wanted one of their own inside the school, so Dumbledore agreed to let our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor take her new post without a fuss, in exchange for securing Miss Prewett's early release."
In any case, if Dumbledore had refused to let Umbridge in, the Ministry would simply have signed an executive order to force the issue, so he had counted this as a victory for himself.
"Regarding the Time-Turner…" Daphne said in a low but hopeful voice, as Professor Snape turned to leave.
"You've missed too many classes last year," Professor Snape said snidely. "I have denied your application. Oh, and Miss Greengrass," he added, turning to Oleandra.
His lips were curling upwards into a smile, which was never a good sign.
"Yes, sir?" she said tentatively.
"You have second watch this week," said Professor Snape. "You are to patrol the halls from midnight to three in the morning, every night."
"Yes, sir," Oleandra said glumly. Goodbye, healthy sleep schedule…
================================================================
"Coffee?" offered Tracey, when Oleandra finally slumped into her chair at breakfast in the Great Hall the following morning. "You look like you need it."
She held up a small pot of black liquid, but Oleandra shook her head; she had already seen her class schedule, having just helped Professor Snape pass them around, and she had already decided she would much rather fall asleep in class than listen to her teachers drone on and on.
"Second watch is the worst, it's right in the middle," Oleandra moaned. "Draco's got first watch; which lasts from 9 PM to midnight. Third watch is 3 AM to 6 AM… Thank goodness I don't have to do this every week."
"Glad I'm not a prefect," Daphne commented helpfully, before taking a bite of bagel. "Pass the cream cheese, please?"
Instead, Oleandra tiredly pushed two pieces of paper forward on the table; Tracey's and Daphne's class schedules.
"History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defence Against the Dark Arts…" Tracey read out loud.
Oleandra nodded; they both took the same classes, so their schedules were identical. She had wanted to remove Divination from her schedule, but since she had been legally dead all summer, she had never got around to it.
"Thank goodness for Professor Binns," said Oleandra fondly. "I can always count on his dreary old voice to fall asleep to…"
"You really should be paying attention in class, fifth year's really important for us," Daphne said reproachfully. "Well, for you, at any rate. I was born two minutes before you, so whatever grades I get, I still inherit the family business, so it doesn't really matter to me. I won't give you a job unless you get at least an E in Herbology, you know?"
"Like you're one to talk," Oleandra snapped. "You're always sleeping in History of Magic. And as if I needed your help to find a job! Master of runic magic here, hullo?"
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!