I wake up at about four, still way too early, and go downstairs and sit on Violet. I know, rude, but we have a deal that we wake up the other if we have pretty much any reason. The only sure-fire way to get her up is to yell at her, but I don't want to wake up the whole house, so I just sit on her. She wakes up slowly, cursing me out quietly in French. I did happen to learn that much. I get off her and explain my plan to her. Here it is: we go down to the kitchen, and make a huge batch of tofu out of the soybeans and such they have down there. She would have already done this, but the process can take hours and is really hard by yourself, at least the type Vi makes. We usually make a huge batch around once a month, and that holds her. The type of tofu she makes takes so long because it doesn't need to ever be refrigerated, unless you like it cold. It also compacts a ton of nutrition into a one foot by one foot block. Each batch we make has about ten blocks, and the extra is turned into soymilk, or soy nog around the holidays. She seems to agree with my plan, and gets dressed while I do the same. We go on down to the kitchens, and I'm curious, never having been there before. She brings us to a dead-end corridor with a painting of a bowl of fruit on it. I'm about to ask her how this is supposed to help us, but she reaches out and tickles the pear. It giggles- I didn't know fruit could giggle- and the door swings open. All around are cute little human-like creatures that come up to my waist, with huge ears and tennis-ball eyes. They greet us, offering food and drink and hammers and all manner of things we might possibly need. I accept a piece of lasagna that they just had leftover from their dinner yesterday, and Vi takes a cinnamon roll that I notice has her favorite amount of cinnamon on it, which happens to be about three times too much for most people, and the icing is tinted green, signalling peppermint. These elves really know her well if they put peppermint icing on a piece of cinnamon that maybe has a bit of pastry dough stuck to it. My gosh, hyperbole is like the only thing in the entire world that works for me in the morning. You see what I did there? Derp. >-<. Okay, what is wrong with my brain? I mean, I just thought in emoji and said the word "derp" in my head. WTF me? After our small breakfast, we get to work, chopping and slicing and boiling until we're interrupted by the sound of the door opening and house-elves chattering to the new arrivals. Damn it. If a teacher comes around that corner, I need a plan. They won't get mad at Vi, and if we explain what we're doing, maybe they'll understand. Unless it's Malum. In that case, we're dead. Vi has her earbuds in, as did I until a few seconds ago. She seems to be listening to Hammer And Nail by The Indigo Girls. As I listen, it changes to Soul Kitchen by The Doors, covered by X.

She has old taste in music, her favorite band being The Beatles, along with Nirvana, Passenger, Fun, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Lumineers, and The Indigo Girls. Whoever is coming into the kitchens at- I check my watch- seven-thirty on a Sunday morning is kind of loud, and it sounds like more than one voice accepting food from and dismissing the house-elves back to their work. In fact- and the horror engulfs me as I realize this- it sounds like three, all male, and coming toward us. I wouldn't care, except for the fact that all I'm wearing is a long t-shirt, shorts that go down just barely past the end of the shirt, upper-thigh-ish, with no bra. Vi is dressed about the same as I am, except for the fact that she's wearing a homemade Mastering The Art Of French Cooking apron over. The apron has a picture of Julia Child on the front, with the title of the book written in tiny font all around it. My apron has a picture of an artist's rendering of a potato on it, made by our neighbor Haylee back in California on it. I can't bear to take Vi out of the happy little world she's in, with her music and the cooking. While I was contemplating all of this, I failed to notice the three boys watching us from behind for about ten minutes, just studying us cooking and thinking to the tune of our hearts and our earbuds. Wow, I am being so unobservant and making absolutely no sense this morning. That's what happens when you don't eat breakfast before a huge cooking marathon, I guess. My only clue of company was the loud crunch as Sirius bit into an apple. Damn, that apple looked good too. I should have been mad at them for watching us, but I was kind of lightheaded and in a floaty good mood from the smell of the brownie-like cinnamon-vanilla-brown-sugar deliciousness Vi put in the oven while the soymilk boiled. Speaking of Vi, she's still in her little world of bliss. I turn to the boys, determined to focus.

"So, you troublemakers, what brings you to the kitchens?" I say, my voice hoarse from the hours of inactivity.
"Well, we wanted to see our favorite cooks, don't you know how much we missed you?" James says, and I immediately figure out his plan. I would expect Sirius, the Casanova he is, to say that, but James has his eye on Lily Evans and her only. I give him a look, and he scratches his neck, the universal sign for being caught or embarrassed.
"It also may have smelled kind of like pure heaven outside."
"Yeah, we could smell whatever this is from the dormitory, three floors up." Sirius joins in, and I smile. I turn to Vi, but she still hasn't noticed anything, her attention now on the perfect-looking pan of golden-brown brownie-like things. She turns to the counter and picks a knife from the huge assortment in a block on the counter. When she turns, I can hear her music. She has All I've Ever Been by Rome Hero Foxes playing, and I can't help but reach over and unplug her headphones, letting the music flood into the kitchen. She doesn't even turn, being familiar with me doing that whenever one of her songs I like comes onto her track. I wink at the boys before getting to work putting another uncooked pan of batter in the oven. When the singing starts, we-meaning Violet and I- start singing along, unaware or uncaring of our company.

https://youtu.be/EJg4vTozTOo

If you play the song out loud, be warned: loud and mild cursing. Lyrics below. None of these lyrics were copied and pasted, all were typed by hand, so excuse the typos. We may add more stuff like this later, tell us what you think!

And oh darling, do forgive
For all I've ever been and all I ever wasn't
I was tired, I was torn, I was angry, and I was numb
But you were there and weren't shown 'cause I was blinded by my own

I hope you feel my breath on your neck when you're listening to this one
I hope your heart explodes and you're constantly gasping for oxygen
And it's not 'cause I hate you, it's better off to leave it
Then constantly turning back to run for something you can't keep up with
There are wars in the words you say and I can't beat it
There's hope in the love we lost but we can't keep it
So put down your armor, darling I'll stop shooting
If you promise to always love me like you mean it
I don't need it but I do

And it's funny how we've grown so far away
From all the little words that never have their say
So what better place to tell right here
It'll be the ringing in your ears and everybody else's
How I tried to hold you tightly but you always slipped away
And when you f*cked up all your chances
You ran back saying you're sorry

I hope you feel my breath on your neck when you're listening to this one
I hope your heart explodes and you're constantly gasping for oxygen
And it's not 'cause I hate you, it's better off to leave it
Then constantly turning back to run for something you can't keep up with
There are wars in the words you say and I can't beat it
There's hope in the love we lost but we can't keep it
So put down your armor, darling I'll stop shooting
If you promise to always love me like you mean it

I don't need you anymore
No more, yeah

And what was left in the past
Will someday find me again in your eyes
And all that could've been
Won't ever haunt me again when I see you this time
But I hope you're doing well
okay, sorry,  pipermccloud33 aka Luna is slightly obsessed with this song while she's writing this, which is 8:16 on July third, 2k16, Pacific Standard Time (California)
I am aka Tonks and I approve this message!!!!
Violet and I sing along to the entire thing while switching out pans of brownie stuff and stirring congealing soymilk. We completely ignore the boys- well, Violet still somehow hasn't noticed them- even dancing a bit. When the song ends and Californiacation by The Red Hot Chili Peppers comes on, Vi turns to me, flushed and slightly sweaty, and notices the boys for the first time. She shrieks in surprise, the batter from the spatula hitting her glasses. Sirius laughs, James tries not to, possibly still feeling bad about the snitch incident, and Lupin looks concerned.
"Are you okay?" We both say in unison.
"Yeah, I'm fine, not a big deal."She responds, and licks some of the batter off her face, humming in approval. The timer on the oven dings, and Vi rushes over and pulls out the last pan of brownie stuff with her bare hands. The boys stare at her in shock, that pan has to be over 350 degrees Fahrenheit but I'm used to Vi pulling out pans from the oven and pots from the stove with her bare hands, then wondering where the burn came from. When she puts the pan on the counter, she reaches over for the knife. Here it comes: 3...2...1
"Ow! What the heck, where did this burn come from?!" She yells, and I once again explain it to her while she runs cold water over her hands.
"Oh, you would think I would remember something like that. Can you cut the brownies, Lupin? When Rin does it, they are so many different sizes, I swear." I don't even argue, it's true. Besides, she can't draw figures to save her life, so I got her on that.
"Oh yeah, sure, how big?" He says, and picks up the knife.
"We'd better go with three by two."
"Got it." He proceeded to cut the square into perfect 3x2 rectangles. His method was even better than Vi's, as if he had spent a lot of time baking before he came to Hogwarts. Vi was looking around the kitchen for something, and apparently not finding it.
"Hey, do any of you have aloe vera with you by any chance?" She asked, and I took a closer look at her hand. The burn was much worse than usual, the counter being farther away from the oven and the pan being made of tin, not aluminum, therefore conducting heat much better. (A/N Please correct her science on this, Google wouldn't give Luna a straight answer.)
"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing for that." I suggest, and she scowls at me.
"No, I'm fine, just a small burn." She says, and I remember how she hates people worrying about her.
"Seriously, get Madam Pomfrey to look at it, come on." Lupin says, examining her hand. She's about to protest, but he looks at her with the cutest puppy-dog eyes, and she melts a bit. I don't think anyone else could tell, but she looks like she was heated to melting temperature and poured into a Violet-shaped mould. Sorry for all the food analogies, I'm hungry.
"Fine, I'll let her check it, but it's really not that bad. I don't know why you guys are making such a big deal about it." She gives in, and I silently thank Lupin before realizing that James and Sirius have snuck one of the ten plates of brownie-like things that I'm just going to call cinnamon bars, each plate having maybe twenty of them. They pause when they see me staring at them, probably expecting me to tell me off, and I silently convey to them to save me some, and they nod. We go to the door, the house-elves chattering away at us, and open the door. The hall smells exactly the same as the kitchen, and my empty stomach gurgles, along with Vi and Lupin. We head off in the general direction of the hospital wing, and soon become perfectly lost. As we try to figure out where to to go, someone steps out from a hidden corridor. Damn, it's that weasel from the train. Maybe he was just having a bad day that time. I turn back to Vi and Lupin, only to see Vi looking apprehensive and Lupin looking outright scared. If it scared both Lupin and Vi, it couldn't be good. I think Lupin knew his stuff, and Vi, the scrawny nerd she is, well, I taught her to fight and she does pretty well. I turn to see what I expect to be a Chimera or Professor Malum, but what I see is even worse! Somehow, the most sinister of all forces has broken through the protective walls of our wonderful home.
Edward Cullen has snuck into Hogwarts! Nah, but these three were almost as bad. Lucius Malfoy stood before us, with two other boys named Crabbe and Goyle, though I have no idea which is which. They're both idiots, but they're built like brick walls, and aren't afraid to beat the snot out of you. I briefly consider lunging or running away, but neither option seemed like a good one. Damn it. I just decide to ignore them, and turn back to Vi and Lupin. Vi is holding her burnt hand to her chest and quietly talking to Lupin in rapid French. We start to go right, having silently decided that the wrong way is better than here. We don't get halfway down the short corridor before a silken, evil-laced voice is calling us back.
"Don't leave just yet, you still haven't apologized for disrespecting me on the train."
"Well, first off, it was your fault. Second, who says disrespecting anymore?" I retort, and I can almost hear Violet's disapproval. She isn't really fond of my temper, but she tries to keep it to a minimum most of the time. Wait, this time, the scalding waves of what now feel like hate are not aimed at me. Her glare, which is kind of intimidating, like a kitten who is about to rip your throat out, is settled on the trio in front of us. She seems to be arguing with her internal sense, and apparently her impulsive side won. She marches forward and stands maybe half a foot from Lucius.
"Excuse me, have you come to return my book? I would really appreciate it if you would return it soon, I haven't finished reading it." She says in a tone that makes it clear what the right answer is. I have no idea what she's talking about, but if he messed with her book, especially one that she hasn't read, then he should cower and do everything in his power to get that book back to her. She's usually peaceful and non-confrontational, but the last time someone destroyed her book in a paper shredder, he ended up with a black eye and had to replace the book. It wasn't even a book she liked very much, but her books are like her extended family, and that one was like a seventh cousin she had never met.
"No, but it just so happens that I have it here with me now." He says, and goes to get something from his bag. Maybe he's being decent after a- I don't even get through my thought before he screws it up. He hands Vi a medium-small bag, and too small to fit pretty much any of her books. I now remember her telling me that one of her books was stolen, but The Blood of Olympus wouldn't fit in here at all, and there are no corners visible through the bag. Violet unties the drawstrings and looks inside. She stiffens, and I hear her breathing cease. She puts her hand into the bag, and, from my angle, I can see it when she lifts her hand out. A pile of gray, ash-like bits of paper fill her palm, as if from a library that had caught fire. I can see some of the words on the larger pieces, and it is apparent that it is -was- her copy of The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan. It was one of her favorite books, and her copy had been signed by whom the fandom calls Uncle Rick. She had read most of the normal version, having had to give it back to the library, but this version had extra stuff, like author's notes and such. I can see her confusion, and then comprehension.
She carefully puts the ashes back into the bag, careful not to lose a single flake or grain. She draws the cord tight, and gently sets the bag down, her motions smooth and automatic, like a well programed computer. She slowly straightens up, and we all get a good look at her face. Her eyes meet Lucius's, and his smirk fades slightly. Her eyes hold pure fury and loathing, yet perfectly controlled, an inferno that will devour you, and knows exactly whom to destroy and whom to save. Lupin, Crabbe, Goyle, and I immediately step back several feet, but Malfoy keeps Crabbe and Goyle by his side. Violet's face is a mask, showing nothing, but her eyes alone could kill, growing deadlier by the second. When she finally speaks, I expect a voice teeming with rage, but the reality is worse. She sounds dead, like a corpse talking, yet can inject enough venom and fury into the sound that even Lupin and I, well out of harm's way, start trembling.
"You will pay for this, Lucius Malfoy. You will regret ever hearing my name. Every whisper of me, every violet in the gardens, every purple streak will send you to the worst places inside your dark, cowardly soul." With that, she muttered something illegible under her breath, and flicked her wand at the three boys. The spell seemed to have no effect, but, knowing Vi, we'd find out what she did soon enough. She picks up the bag with the ashes, and starts down the corridor, Lupin and I stumbling after her. Once we're well away from Malfoy and his henchmen, Violet slumps against the wall, clutching her burnt hand.

-{A/N Okay, was that to harsh or scary or something? Luna put all of the sadistic bit of her heart into it, but it seems kind of overkill. Should we remove it or what? }-

"Okay, how in bloody hell did you manage to scare Lucius Malfoy?" Lupin blurts out, and Vi laughs.
"Well, it's not very difficult, is it? I mean, I'm a tiny first-year." She responds.
"On the contrary, he has only been beaten like that once, in his first year. It wasn't even half that... scary, I guess." Lupin responds.
"Oh, well, it was about time. By the way, the word you're thinking of is sadistic." She says, and shrugs. She's started down the hall again, still cradling her burnt hand. We walk in silence to the hospital wing and look around. There is only a few candles and a third-year who just seems to need a good nap. A kindly-looking woman bustles over to us, looking at and over us as if checking us for injuries.
"So, dears, what seems to be the matter?" I'm wondering how she doesn't notice the girl nursing a bright red hand, but I realize she hid behind Lupin, completely hidden. Lupin realizes this at the same time as I do, and moves aside. Violet comes slowly forward, her hand curled protectively to her chest. She slowly looks up, and visibly relaxes when she sees the kindly-yet efficient-looking woman. She holds out her hand, and Madam Pomfrey tsks.

"What did you do? This burn, tsk tsk, this will take time. What ever did you do to it?" Dam, she shouldn't have asked it. Now Vi's going to freeze up, just like every time something like this happens. She starts to stutter out something that may have been an excuse or a shopping list.

"It's okay dear, don't get yourself all worked up." Madam Pomfrey shakes her head and starts to examine Vi's hand, which is not too much redder than her face. It's blistered and looks really painful, so it makes sense when Vi makes a muffled squeaking noise at the contact.

Hey y'all! Sorry we update rarely. I know that no one actually reads this book, but this is an apology for the future when there actually might be humans reading this. Please check out our other works, on our separate accounts pipermccloud33 and Raye_galaxy that we have other fanfictions on. Honestly, I have no idea if I've told y'all this yet. We actually have some excuses to throw at you lot. First, seventh grade is hard, especially when someone (ahem, Looney) has at least a half hour of homework from her honors math alone and has no idea how to contact Tonks. Second, someone (ahem, Tonks) bounces from fanfic to fanfic and keeps starting multiple ones. Third, both of us have discovered that they can get into Netflix and have become professional perfectly-good-time-wasters. In my defense, Supernatural and Criminal Minds are amazing. Bye my Potterheads.