The Daily Lives of Magical Girls

"Heir of Slytherin, coming through!" Oleandra said loudly as she entered the History of Magic classroom along with the other Slytherins. "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, unless you want to get petrified!"

Mafalda shot Oleandra a dirty look, which she gladly returned. The two then proceeded to shoot metaphorical sparks out of their eyes at each other until Mafalda looked away in a huff, and Oleandra triumphantly took her seat next to Tracey and Daphne.

When they had fought in the Chamber of Secrets, Mafalda had never denied being the Heir of Slytherin, so Oleandra was not technically lying when she called her by that title; even if it turned out that Mafalda had actually been manipulated by the True Heir all along.

"That was so juvenile," Daphne sniffed. "You should have just Cursed her there and then and been done with it. Like any self-respecting person would have done."

"But Dumbledore said she was innocent…" Tracey said hesitatingly.

"Dumbledore says a lot of things; and I say the only reason she dropped unconscious in the middle of our fight to the death was because she overdrew her strength," Oleandra said with a sneer. "In any case, now that Dumbledore's so kindly provided us with a distraction, maybe people will finally stop staring at me like I've got antennae growing out of my head."

Those who were currently first, second and third years wouldn't understand, but the events leading up to the opening of the Chamber of Secrets had been a traumatic time for those who had attended Hogwarts in 1992. The other students were giving Mafalda a wide berth, Oleandra noted with satisfaction. They had momentarily stopped gawking at her and Harry, which was a victory in her book.

"Well, I'll see you in a bit," Oleandra added upon seeing Professor Binns, the ghost teacher, float through the blackboard to begin class. "Good night."

Her forehead slammed into the desk as she went out like a light, a tired smile on her lips. Daphne sighed, manipulating her green hair to slide under her sister's head like a pillow, and then she also proceeded to fall asleep not even five minutes into the lecture. Using runic magic to stuff knowledge into one's brain was extremely taxing on the neurons…

Following their example, Harry and Ron also decided a nap would be in order… and shortly afterwards, the rest of the class was snoring along with them, as per usual. The only people still awake by the time the bell rang ended up being Mafalda and Hermione, who had still dutifully taken notes for the entire duration of the class, all the while shooting disapproving looks at each other.

"Was that the bell?" Oleandra said as she stretched out her limbs lazily.

"I daresay it was," Daphne responded, blinking her eyes.

"Our next class is Potions," said Tracey, taking a look at her watch. "We'd better hurry up, Professor Snape's not as forgiving as Professor Binns…"

Oleandra glanced outside the window; it was raining. If they wanted to get to their destination while avoiding the rain by staying inside, they would have to take a detour around the library; if they didn't care about getting wet, traversing the Transfiguration Courtyard would be the fastest way to the Potions Classroom. Professor Snape was by common consent much scarier than rain, so they elected to take the shortcut.

As the trio emerged into the courtyard, they found that they hadn't been the only ones to have the same idea. Students were streaming clockwise and anticlockwise around the edges of the rectangular courtyard, trying their best to remain dry by staying beneath the wooden canopy.

Oleandra snapped her fingers as she began walking diagonally through the courtyard, conjuring an umbrella made of water over her head to shield herself from the rain.

"Is it really okay for a prefect to be using magic outside of class?" Tracey asked, as she and Daphne took refuge under the umbrella. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"Do you see me using a wand?" Oleandra giggled. "Besides, the rule only say no magic in the halls; courtyards aren't halls, as far as I know."

As they crossed the courtyard and approached the door leading back inside, they saw the Gryffindor Trio engaging Cho Chang in conversation. It rather looked like the older Asian girl was rizzing up Harry, but that couldn't be, could it? Wasn't she going out with the Head Boy, Cedric Diggory? Oleandra could feel her inner busybody begging to be let out.

"Heya, Hero!" Oleandra called out to Harry. "Hello, Chang."

Harry nodded at her, but Cho Chang reacted rather negatively. To be fair, in general, Quidditch players from rival Houses didn't really like her as a rule, since she had won a few miraculous victories for Slytherin. But she was no longer on the team, so why couldn't people let go of their petty grudges?

"Greengrass," she said stiffly. "What do you want?"

"How's Cedric?" Oleandra asked curiously.

"He's doing fine," she answered curtly, before turning to Harry, curling the tips of her straight black hair around her finger in a flirty manner. "Look, Harry, I've got to run, but… we'll talk later, okay?"

Harry blinked in surprise, as if he couldn't believe that a girl that he fancied had actually taken the initiative to seek him out of her own volition.

"Y-yeah, sure," he said. "I'll, er— I'll see if I've got some free time…"

Cho Chang then winked at him and went off to rejoin her friend, looking back over her shoulder one last time before leaving the courtyard. For a moment, Harry stood there dumbly, unable to believe his good luck, before rounding on Oleandra.

"What was that for?" he said angrily. "You almost ruined my chances with Cho!"

"I just wanted to know if she was still with Cedric!" Oleandra said defensively.

"If you ask me, I think Oleandra had the right idea, Harry," Ron said most unhelpfully. "I bet she was only wearing that Tornados badge because they're actually winning the league, for once— she's just a poser."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Hermione asked Ron disapprovingly.

The pair then began fiercely debating whether it mattered if she was a poser, and if supporting certain Quidditch teams made you an inherently bad person. Oleandra could feel she wasn't going to obtain an answer from them, and Harry didn't look like he'd be especially forthcoming, so she just left.

As they entered the dungeons, Tracey finally decided to voice her thoughts.

"So, Cedric's finally single," she said in a tone that Oleandra had never heard her take before. "Good news all around, I suppose."

"I mean, not especially?" Oleandra said, unsure of how to respond. "It's too bad for him, I guess."

Tracey harrumphed— was she actually moping? Oleandra immediately connected the dots, as she wasn't completely clueless, like a certain pair of Gryffindor boys she could mention.

"Tracey Davis," Oleandra said with a smirk. "Are you jealous, by any chance?"

"Maybe," Tracey admitted shyly, her cheeks reddening.

"She really is pretty, isn't she?" Oleandra continued. "But… it's too bad she's got a crush on Harry."

"Wot?" Tracey managed to squeak out, her eyes opening wide with shock. "…she does!?"

They were talking about the same person, right…?

"But it wouldn't have worked out between the two of you," said Oleandra very seriously, putting her hand on Tracey's shoulder sympathetically. "Cho Chang's a Tornados poser— and you're a die-hard Puddlemere United fan. You deserve someone better than that, Trace."

Tracey's eyes instantly went dull.

"Yeah, sure," she answered sullenly. "Why not."

Daphne simply rolled her eyes.

"I was just joking, by the way," Oleandra quickly added.

"Uh-huh," Tracey answered curtly.