***Chloe's hairstyle***

The first class we had that morning was with Professor Sprout, our Herbology teacher. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and I caught up with some fellow students while we were waiting for Professor Sprout to appear to start our classes. I chatted with Susan Bones, a second-year Hufflepuff. We managed to keep our conversation going until Professor Sprout finally arrived.

"Good morning, class," she said loudly over our chattering. When we didn't respond the first time, she rapped her wand against a plant pot and repeated herself. "Good morning, class. Welcome to Greenhouse Three, second years.  Now, gather around. Today, we are going to talk about re-potting Mandrakes. Now, who here, can tell me what a Mandrake is?" Hermione immediately shot her hand in the air, and Professor Sprout pointed to her. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione took a deep breath before talking with a proud smile on her face.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been Petrified to their original state. But it's also quite dangerous. The Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor!" 

Harry, Ron, and I all beamed brightly at each other, including a few close Gryffindor friends who knew us. 

"Now, as you can see here, these Mandrakes are only seedlings. Which means that they're not quite as dangerous. But they can still knock you out for a few hours or so. So I got each of you a pair of ear muffs. Now go ahead, and put them on. Flaps down tightly." She got herself positioned by the Mandrake, grasping the stems of the plant. "Now, you grasp your Mandrake firmly, like this. Then you pull it sharply out of the pot —" 

Out came a chubby root baby, who squealed, protesting. Apparently, he did not like to be out of his pot of soil. Professor Sprout must have realized that because she dumped it into another pot, sprinkling soil all over it so that the plant could quit squealing and crying.

"— Then you sprinkle a little bit of soil on him to keep them warm." 

We heard a heavy thump. We glanced over to see what had happened. I stared in disbelief at Neville's motionless body. The Mandrakes must have been too much for him and he passed out. Professor Sprout did not look too pleased.

"Ugh. Longbottom's neglected the ear muffs." 

"No, ma'am," said Seamus. "He's just fainted."

"Yes, well. Just leave him there." 

She gave him instructions and we did as she had instructed. The Mandrakes were like devil plants, squealing, thrashing, and not at all happy about being out of its warm, cozy spot. With a lot of effort, we managed to get them into the separate pot, sprinkling soil all over him so that they would stop screaming and squealing.

***

At lunch, Ron had finally begun to mend his wand by using Spell-O-Tape. But I highly doubted that it would work. I paid more attention to my homework rather than the noise of Ron trying to fix his wand with tape. 

"Say it," he finally huffed miserably, giving me his puppy-dog eyes. "I'm doomed." 

I glanced over at the wand and then back at my brother.

"You're doomed," I finally responded. 

And I guess that was true. Ron would not have a proper wand this year. He would never be able to pass his classes with a wand like that. I would never tell him aloud, of course. I'm sure that he already realized that by now. 

"Hiya, Chloe!" said a new, unfamiliar voice.

A bright light nearly blinded my vision. I shook my head to get the stars out of my vision. I finally looked up to see a boy who was a year younger than me. He had hair that was not quite yet platinum blonde, which was wavy. He had a giddy smile on his face.

"My name is Colin Creevy. I'm in Gryffindor, too."

Well, duh. I could see his Gryffindor robes on. It's not like he had to tell me. I tried to be polite and not lash out so suddenly.

"Hi, Colin. Nice to meet you," I said awkwardly. 

The screech of an owl was heard and half of the Gryffindor table immediately went silent. 

"Hey, Ron. Isn't that your owl?" fellow Gryffindor, Dean Thomas, asked.

On cue, Errol came swooping in, landing in a bowl of potato chips, which went everywhere. I brushed a couple of them that had landed in my lap, grumbling to myself. 

"The bloody bird's a menace," Ron complained as he plucked the bright red letter from its beak. Errol let out an angry screech and flew off again. Ron's face immediately went pale as he got a good look at the envelope. "Oh, no!" 

"Look, everyone!" said fellow Gryffindor student, Seamus Finnegan. "Weasley's got himself a Howler!"

"Go on, Ron," said Neville nervously. "I got one from my gran, once. It was horrible."

Ron stared at the envelope nervously. He finally began to open it shakily. He barely got through peeling open the gold wax seal when the voice of Mrs. Weasley came through.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" she bellowed furiously. The envelope had transformed itself into an envelope demon, which had pointed teeth and a snake's tongue. I'm sure that if the real Mrs. Weasley was here, she would have strangled her son for sure. "HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER IS NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME! Oh, and Ginny, dear. Congratulations on making it to Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud." 

The envelope turned to Ron again. It blew a raspberry at Ron and then began to eat itself up, leaving nothing but shreds of paper in our midst. We were all silent, watching Ron, who looked scared to death. 

***

Our final class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts. And let's just say, neither Ron nor I were looking forward to the class. There was something about Professor Lockhart that I didn't like. We chatted quietly amongst ourselves before the door right next to the stairs flew open to reveal Professor Lockhart in a dusty-rose colored set of robes. 

"Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Me," he introduced at once. "Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, third class. Honorary member of the Defense League. And five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Awards. Of course, I didn't get rid of a Banshee just by looking at her." He started grinning, laughing ridiculously. 

Ron and I glanced at each other, clearly not amused. Then, quite suddenly, Professor Lockhart turned serious, whipping his wand out. He approached what seemed to be the shape of a cage, covered with a purple cloth. 

"Now! Be warned!" he said sharply. That was when everybody started to feel a little scared and tensed. "You may come to face your very worst fear in this very room. It's my job to arm you against the foulest creatures to walk this earth. But do not fear! I will not let any harm come to you while I am here. But I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them!"

He dramatically took off the cover on the cage to reveal —

"Cornish Pixies?" scoffed Seamus Finnegan.

"Freshly-caught Cornish Pixies," Professor Lockhart answered dramatically. Neville and Seamus immediately began to laugh. And pretty soon, we all joined in on the laughter. "Laugh all you want, Mr. Finnegan. But Pixies can be blighty little creatures. Let's see what you can make of them — now!" 

And with that, he released the Pixies. Immediately everything went haywire. The people in the back immediately raced for the door, along with nearly everyone else. Neville got pulled by his ears, being dragged up to the chandelier by his ears. 

"I'd just like to ask you four to nip them back in their cage?" said Professor Lockhart as he made an escape to his office. 

"What do we do, now?! This is a complete nightmare!" said Ron frantically as he used a composition book to swat at any pixies that might do something harmful to him. 

"Ow! Get off me!" Harry demanded as one Pixie began to tug sharply at a lock of his hair. 

"Hold still! Hold still!" I said frantically.

Harry did as he was told and held still. I used my composition book and smacked the Pixie off of him.

"Are you okay?" I asked anxiously as he rubbed at the place where his hair got harshly tugged on. 

"I'm fine. Thanks." 

"Immobulus!" Hermione finally cried out. 

At once, the Pixies went still, moving in slow motion now. All of us breathed with relief, now that the tension seemed to be over with. 

"Why is it always me?" Neville asked from the chandelier, sounding bitter.