09-19-1991
September 19, 1991
Dear Diary,
So here’s my idea to get home: I get expelled.
Genius, right?
At least I thought so. Before I learned how seemingly difficult that task would be.
Hogwarts isn’t like other schools. I knew that before coming here. It’s a school for wizards after all. But where a normal school could have you getting suspended or expelled for failing all your classes (which I am currently doing) or fighting (which I haven’t done yet) or being argumentative with your teachers (which I’ve done and had to dissect flobberworms, which was gross and messy, but a slap on the wrist when there was magic involved) Hogwarts didn’t .
As a matter of fact, people rarely were ever expelled at Hogwarts.
I did some research. Asked an older Slytherin prefect, a girl named Marcy Rowle, and she told me that there hasn’t been an expulsion from Hogwarts since the nineteen-forties when the grounds keeper, Rubeus Hagrid, was almost sent to Azkaban after his pet acromantula petrified a bunch of classmates and killed a girl in Ravenclaw. It was apparently a big scandal according to the old Daily Prophet articles I searched out in the library.
Before him, the other notable expulsion was Newt Scamander. The details of which were not so easy to find. I only managed to hunt down one line in which he even mentioned the event after combing through his entire autobiography where he says, “endangered another human life with a beast—“ and that was it. He didn’t say what beast or how he endangered them, but guessing by the rest of his account I would hazard a guess that it was something just as dangerous as Hagrid’s magical giant spider.
So magical creatures are a one way ticket to expulsion. Especially if that creature kills somebody.
…
I don’t want to go that far. I’m eleven, not a murder.
So I think I need to look into other options. I asked the librarian, Ms. Pince where I could find a copy of the school handbook. Surely that should contain a list of rules— Dos and Don’ts that I can break and get myself sent home by the end of October.
And I was right! There were a lot of rules! Too many, in fact, it was hard to narrow them down. I needed to get some advice from a couple of experienced troublemakers.
The two who hold that title are the Weasley twins: Feorge and Gred. (I think that’s their names…at least that’s what they call each other.) They’re in fourth year and in Gryffindor house (Slytherin’s fiercest rival house apparently). I got a lot of surprised looks when I plopped myself down in the midst of the Gryffindors during breakfast.
“Are you the Weasley twins?” I asked.
They both stop in the midst of their conversation, red brows arched in question as they look at me. “Depends on who’s asking—“ starts the one on my right, “—and what they want,” finishes the one on the left.
I stuck out my hand in greeting and introduced myself. “My name’s Elisabeth. I’m a Slytherin first-year and I want some advice from the Weasley twins.”
“What sort of advice?” Asks the twin on the left, while the right asks “Why?”
“You have a reputation for trouble,” I explained, “and I want to know—“ I took out the student handbook from my bag and opened it to the dog-eared page where the list of rules began and put it on the table between us, shoving a plate of sausages out of the way as I finished, “which of these rules will get you expelled without getting sent to prison if you broke them—” Another pause, this one shorter as I realized how shady that question sounded aloud and I added, “ hypothetically ?”
The brothers' brows arch almost to their hairline at the question. They look stunned. And then suspicious. “Hypothetically?” The one on the left repeats, slowly.
I nodded.
The one on the right wonders why I want to know. Before I answer, another Gryffindor interjects loudly and draws the attention of the whole table (If most of them weren’t looking at me already, now they definitely all were.) as he asks, “Hey, aren’t you that girl who fell down the grand staircase the other day and broke your arm?!”
I sigh. Feeling annoyed at the interruption. “Yes,” I nod and look back at the twins. “Hypothetically, if someone wanted to get expelled what would be the best way?”
“Hypothetically…” The left one frowns. “That sounds like a question for a solicitor.”
“What’s a solicitor?” I ask.
“He means a lawyer,” a girl answers further down the table. She has dark skin and a head full of braids and beads that clatter as she whips around to glare at the twins. “Don’t either of you two answer that question!”
“Butt out Angela,” the twin on the right barks. “No one asked you to insert yourself in our private conversation.”
“It’s not very private. It’s in the middle of the Great Hall,” she said. “And I’m not letting you two corrupt one of the first years! As a prefect I shouldn’t even be listening to this conversation.”
“Then cover your ears—“ they both huffed at her before one of them picked up the handbook off the table.
“Now let’s see…why do you want to get expelled, lil snakelette?” The twin on the left peered at me over the cover of the handbook.
“I didn’t say I did,” I said.
“Right…this is all hypothetical, innit?” The gryffindor rolled his eyes, not believing that for a second. “Our advice isn’t free, lil snake. Is it Gred?”
The twin on the right shakes his head and tuts. “It is not, Frorge.”
“What do you want?” I ask them. “I don’t have a lot of money, but—“
Frorge shakes his head. “We don’t want your money, kid.”
“We want information,” Gred tells her.
“What kind of information?” I sit back, warily.
“Well, the password to the Slytherin common room for starters—“ Gred begins.
“But we also want to know why you want to be expelled?” Frorge finishes.
“Password is Runespoor. And I never said I wanted to be expelled,” I answered without hesitation, looking between the two brothers.
“But one can assume by the question—“ Gred tutted.
“People can assume whatever they want,” I argued, “it only turns them into an ass—“
“Whoa—“ Frorge whistled. “Looks like a lil snake has some fangs. Such coarse language for the little viper.”
“Stop calling me little!” I snap, feeling annoyed at this constant back and forth. “Are either of you going to help me or not?”
“Aww, be careful, Frorge,” Gred warns. “I hear those American vipers are venomous. Especially the rattlesnakes.”
“Forget it!” I lost whatever little bit of patience I had at that, snatching the book back, leaving the group of loudmouth Gryffindors for the library. I can find answers another way.
I’m sure there has to be some books on wizarding laws in the library somewhere. I’ll start there and figure out where the line is between an unruly troublemaker and a dangerous criminal.
Ms. Pince is a better help than the Weasley twins anyways. And books don’t laugh at you for asking questions.
I’ll be laughing when the Weasley twins try to use the fake password I gave them and get caught trying to sneak into the Slytherin common room.