( 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘀 )

ii. devilish little monsters

Early morning dew drops stained the glass on the windows. The sun poured through it, glistening off the small droplets of water, sending an array of colors to cascade across the hardwood floor. Birds chirped in the highest branches of trees and the creatures roaming in the forests below the towers could be heard stirring to life. The candles on their bedside table flickered back to life as the first signs of daylight began to show in the sky.

There were many tired groans and yawns that morning as students made their way to the showers, dragging their feet like zombies. The night had been spent filled with quiet whispers and the telling of summertime stories. Everyone had been catching up with friends or making new ones instead of sleeping. First-night pranks had been played. And everyone was just beginning to once again find a routine in the castle.

With her hair still wet and smelling like fresh strawberries and coconut, Matilda began to put on her uniform.

Girl students were allowed five choices. They had two skirts, one plaid, with the color of the assigned house, and the other a plain black. They had two pairs of black dress slacks and a pair of capris for warmer days. The five shirts paired with each pair of bottoms were the same, a white collar button-up shirt with long sleeves, meant to be tucked into the waistline of the trousers. A striped sweater with the colors of the assigned house patterned horizontally was also allowed and given to students as another option for a shirt. They were also given socks and permitted to wear whatever shoes they wish as long as they did not restrict the student's ability to perform assigned tasks.

School blazers, scarves, and other clothing items could be bought from Hogwarts' school store.

Matilda had never been a fan of the uniform rule. She liked dressing and wearing what she likes. But she got the weekends and students were still permitted to wear their casual clothing when they weren't in classes. And girls were still luckier than boys. They were only given shorts and slacks to pick from.

By the time Matilda had made it down for breakfast that morning her hair had been dried and pulled back into a ponytail, a blue, silk ribbon tied into a neat bow covered the hairband that held up the long hair.

She had quite a colorful plate sitting before her. Filled with an assortment of fruit and on the side, plain yogurt. But she was not concerning herself with the half-eaten fruit anymore, as she was too busy studying the schedule that had been handed to her by one of the older kids in her house, the Heady Boy, Robert Hilliard.

The schedule had encaptured her attention so much that Matilda hadn't noticed that the Great Hall had gone almost completely silent. Everyone around her had turned their head to look at the Gryffindor Table to which her back was turned. They waited with excitement and terror in their eyes, and Matilda didn't notice as read her classes in her head for the millionth time.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

A shrill tone shouted through the large room, echoing off the stone walls and shaking the goblets and golden plates sitting on the large wooden tables.

Students had to reach across to catch their cutlery before it was able to clatter to the floor, just as Matilda's schedule did when the shriek had pierced through her unsuspecting hearts.

She turned to face such terrible noise and her eyes widened when she noticed a red envelope, opening to resemble a mouth – a howler, hovering over the Gryffindor table. It stayed in front of a familiar red-headed boy whose cheeks glowed as bright as his hair. He slouched as if to hide from the envelope, but it was no use. It'd found him.

Ron Weasley had been sorted in the same year as Matilda. She remembered his name being called just before her own. He was nervous and trembling, his complexion had turned green as if he was going to puke. Luckily he didn't. But he very well might do so today.

He was good friends with the celebrity, Harry Potter – his best friend, and was also usually running around with Hermione Granger as well. The three of them were always getting caught up in some kind of trouble. Always landing themselves in detention and missing classes – well, not Hermione. But their ability to find trouble and get themselves into it was no surprise anymore. And so, when it became known that Ron Weasley and Harry Potter had somehow flown an enchanted vehicle to Hogwarts, and made it alive, no one was really surprised about it. Only surprised they hadn't been expelled for crashing into the castle grounds.

Matilda stayed as far away from that group as she could. Though she envied the attention and praise that Harry Potter received and resented him for getting it by just getting lucky sometimes, she didn't wish to be a part of their trio. Their luck would one day run out and Matilda had too many plans for herself than risk death all the time.

She also didn't really want friends.

When the yelling finally ceased and the red enveloped shredded itself, Matilda glanced once more at the red-faced boy, rose her eyebrow, satisfied with his embarrassment, and turned back around in her seat. She picked her schedule off the ground where it had fallen beside her foot and looked it over once more. Her Transfigurations class with Professor McGonagall would be starting soon, so, she put one more piece of honeydew into her mouth, grabbed her bag that held all of her assigned class supplies, and darted for the doors that led out into the corridors.

Not surprising at all, the classroom was empty when she arrived. She was still considered a little more than early, but that's what Matilda preferred. Especially on the first day of classes. She'd be first to claim her seat that would remain hers for the year because students were creatures of habit and didn't like to go against the status quo. And she'd given herself enough time to refresh what she needed to know for their first day of lessons. Which Matilda had spent all summer doing.

During the long and boring days that she spent hiding in the Ministry, closed off in her dad's office as he argued with coworkers outside, she'd get a head start on a lot of her coursework and assigned readings. By the time classes started in the fall Matilda would be weeks, if not months, ahead of what was actually going on inside the classroom.

Doing this allowed Matilda to stay ahead. By doing this she'd continue to be smarter and better than her other classmates. She'd continue to surpass them in everything.

Matilda loved being better than the people around her. And not only did she love it, but she needed it. Matilda needed to be better than everyone around her.

As the minutes passed by other students wearing both blue and green ties began to file into the classroom, quick to find an empty table that would hold them and their friends. Padma had opted for the seat beside Matilda, making a comment about how maybe being in her close presence will give her better marks. Matilda doubted it but she didn't shoot down the idea.

Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work and it seemed as if everything most of the class had been taught last year had leaked out of their heads during the summer. There were a few exceptions, of course, and Matilda was one of them. The class was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button. A lot of her classmates couldn't even transform the beetle. Merely giving it a little bit of exercise as they watched the bug scuttle over the desktop to avoid the wants.

Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.

Toward the back of the classroom, Crabbe and Goyle, from the Slytherin house had to ask for a new beetle after squashing both of theirs in a game they'd called, battle of the beetles. Professor McGonagall hadn't seemed at all pleased.

On her way back she'd stopped at the desk just before Crabbe and Goyle. Draco had been sitting there, beside Daisy Morgenstern. Draco was laughing at Daisy as he attempted to help her grasp the way she should be waving her wand. Though he hadn't yet succeeded in turning his beetle into a button, the silver clothespin that he continued to produce was far closer than the glass beetle Daisy had just produced. Professor McGonagall nodded at Draco and offered him a word of advice to help his transfiguration become a little more accurate. He scowled at the old woman of course but took the advice, and each time got a little closer to what he should have.

On her first try, Matilda produced a brooch. It was circular and studded with silver crystals that shimmered beneath the light pouring through the classroom windows. Padma had noticed this and her eyes grew wide.

"Matilda, that's beautiful!" she cried.

She looked down at her own piece of work. Her beetle was not without legs and laying on its back.

But Matilda shrugged, not seeming as impressed with her product as her housemate was, "Sure," she said with the wave of her wand, returning the brooch to its original form, which she had managed on her first try. "But it was not the assignment."

With another wave of her wand, Matilda sucked in a sharp breath and attempted the spell again. This time, with a puff of white smoke, the beetle transformed into the same shape as the button on her very own shirt. Her smile widened.

"Very good, Miss Winters," said Professor McGonagall, who she hadn't known was standing right behind her when she'd attempted the spell a second time. "It's nice to see someone here has managed to keep some smarts about them..." with her wrinkly hands clasped behind her back she moved to stand back at the front of the room, facing the class, "Ten points to Ravenclaw!"

The Slytherin groans had been drowned out by the celebratory clapping of Matilda's housemates. Though she didn't see any reason to celebrate. Matilda revelled in Professor McGonagall's praise, as she respected the woman greatly. But she was not happy at all that it had taken her twice to produce the desired product. Especially when she had spent all summer learning and perfecting that spell.

Padma had followed Matilda outside the castle when Professor McGonagall dismissed the class with a disappointed sigh. She talked without pause as they crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept. The Slytherins were again following as again, they'd been paired with the Ravenclaw students for their Herbology class.

As they neared the greenhouses they found that many other of their classmates were already standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Padma and Matilda waited with them until they all saw Professor Sprout come striding into view across the lawn. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages.

Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and coated inside her fingernails. She was Harper's favorite Professor, though Matilda always thought her sister a little bit biased since she was Head of the Hufflepuff House, and Harper happened to be a Hufflepuff.

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before — greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Matilda caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. She and Padma followed the others inside.

Professor Sprout stood behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored earmuffs were lying on the bench. She looked over the class, smiled, and said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Matilda didn't even raise her hand before speaking. No one was surprised.

"The Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful curative," said Matilda, sounding confident in the words she spoke. "It is commonly used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Five points to Ravenclaw," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential

part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it, obviously," Matilda said with a smirk.

"Precisely. Take ten points this time," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here

are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look.

A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They would look quite unremarkable to anyone who didn't have the slightest idea of what the 'cry of the Mandrake' meant.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy. With a shrug, both Matilda and Padma took a pair of the pink muffs.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor

Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right — earmuffs on."

Matilda snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put her own pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Impressed, Matilda let out a gasp that no one could hear.

She'd only ever seen the little creature plants in pictures of the books she's read. Never in person. Her mum would always claim it was too dangerous and that she was too young.

Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. It had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly crying at the top of its lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

"Four to a tray — there is a large supply of pots here — compost in the sacks over there — and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Matilda and Padma were joined at their tray by two Slytherins, the green of their ties poking through their long robes, giving them away. Matilda had met both of them before. It was Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini. Both in her year and annoyingly stunning.

"That was some Transfigurations lesson, wasn't it?" said Daphne happily as they began filling their plant pots with dung compost. "I knew I should have practiced more over the summer holiday. My beetle kept running across my desk, scared to death of the tip of my wand. I wasn't even fast enough to catch it."

"I lost my beetle's legs..." sighed Padma guiltily.

Blaise Zabini chuckled softly, shaking his head, "Yeah, you win."

After that, they didn't have much chance to talk. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. Not even for Matilda.

The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; Matilda spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.

By the end of the class, Matilda, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and Matilda and Padma would hurry off to lunch.

Luna Lovegood was already at lunch and when they sat down beside her, asking about her first day of classes so far, she began about her Charms class with Professor Flitwick, who she already seemed to greatly admire.

Their other roommate, Cho Chang, sat down beside Padma with a tired sigh, slamming her armful of books onto the table. Padma looked at her and then at her books, eyebrows furrowed.

"Why," demanded Padma, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all of Professor Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Cho snatched the schedule from her hands, blushing furiously. Quickly she gathered her things back off the table and moved farther down the long table and took a seat beside Claire Morgenstern, who would likely share her thoughts on the 'oh so dreamy,' Professor Lockhart.

Matilda finished lunch and went outside into the viaduct courtyard. She sat down on a wooden bench and pulled the book she'd made her dad buy for her at Flourish and Blotts out of her bag, and began reading the first page. Around her other students were passing their time by. Some played Gobstones and others practiced their wand movements and spells. Absentmindedly Matilda reached up and began twiddling with the small sapphire gemstone that dangled from her neck from a thin golden chain. It was a necklace her parents had gifted her when they found out what house she'd been sorted in. There was a letter attached from her mom.

How proud I am of my girl. Her mom wrote in neat cursive handwriting. A Ravenclaw! Just like mommy. I love you, my intelligent daughter.

She hadn't taken off the necklace since the day she got it.

The time passed her quickly with her nose buried in a book. Soon the bell was ringing, signaling afternoon classes.

They had reached Lockhart's classroom and he let Harry go at last. Harry yanked his robes

straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he busied himself with piling

all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him, so that he could avoid looking at the real thing.

By the time Matilda had reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts nearly every seat had been filled. She stopped in her tracks before the class, eyes roaming over the room with a confused expression. She had assumed there would only be Ravenclaw and Gryffindors in this class but a few green and yellow ties invaded the space. She was a little confused but didn't speak on it as she moved toward the back of the classroom to find an open seat.

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

Matilda rolled her eyes, withholding a scoff.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books — well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in —"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes — start —now!"

Matilda looked down at her paper and read:

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

"This is a load of rubbish," grumbled Matilda, tossing her quill angrily onto the desk.

The silver-haired boy who sat at the desk in front of her turned, smirking, "What?" Draco asked. "Upset because you aren't Professor Lockhart's little pet?"

Daisy Morgenstern, who occupied the chair beside Draco, turned her head slightly, pleading with him to stop talking.

"Well, at least I'm somebody's favorite," scoffed Matilda. "Not even your own Head of House, Professor Snape, really likes you."

Draco hated it. Matilda knew. He hated not being the favorite, just as much as she did. They both craved praise and attention. So, she knew she'd be able to use that against him and leave some kind of lasting mark.

He whipped his head back around, picking up his quill, "I despise that girl..."

"I told you to shut up," whispered Daisy.

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut — hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully — I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and nonmagic peoples — though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

"There is no way any of this is in the curriculum..." mumbled Matilda, her chin resting boredly in her hand.

He gave them another roguish wink. Matilda was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of distaste; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, two Gryffindors, sitting near the front, were shaking with silent laughter.

Hermione Granger, on the other hand, sitting front and center, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name.

"Miss Hermione Granger and Matilda Winters managed to answer every question correctly," he announced to the class, and Hermione, with bright red cheeks, turned in the chair, her eyes finding Matilda.

It's always been like this. From their very first class together they'd been one another's biggest competition. If there was anyone who Matilda Winters might ever feel threatened by, it was Hermione Granger. She was brilliant and the smartest in her House.

Matilda did not hate Hermione Granger though. She could not hate her for having intelligence. But the two girls weren't exactly friends. They were peers who were in constant competition with one another. Who would be the best and the brightest? Matilda Winters had no doubt it would be her. And unfortunately, Hermione Granger sometimes thought the very same.

"... but Miss Granger listed two of my secret ambitions when I'd only asked for one," Lockhart grinned, making Matilda roll her eyes. "my secret ambitions are to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions — good girl! In fact" — he flipped her paper over — "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione turned back around and raised a trembling hand.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so — to business —"

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

"Now — be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

In spite of herself, Matilda leaned over her desk for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front-row seat.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

"Freshly caught?" Matilda's eyes had gone wide.

But she'd been talked over – laughed over. Seamus Finnigan hadn't been able to control himself any longer. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not — they're not very —dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

"Freshly caught?" Matilda asked again. "As in still wild? Untamed Cornis Pixies?"

Lockhart turned, finally acknowledging Matilda, he smiled, "Exactly! Great job, Miss Winters."

His excitement was not what Matilda was trying to earn.

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

"No!"

And Matilda fell from her seat, knowing what was about to happen.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books, and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"Come on now — round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

But it was no use. The classroom was in shambles. The students were distressed and screaming for help. Padma's robe sleeve had been nearly ripped clean off. Daisy Morgenstern had ended up under the same desk as Matilda as Draco Malfoy stood, swinging one of Lockhart's books at the pixies, him, Crabbe, and Goyle, all laughing devilishly.

"Stop that!" Matilda poked her head out from under the desk and yelled up at Draco, who stood taller on a chair.

"Why would I do that?" Draco yelled at her, without turning away from the pixies that dove in his direction.

With caution, Matilda crawled out from under the desk and stood on her two feet, she huffed and grabbed the book from Malfoy's dangling hand, "We want to stop the bloody pests, not kill them!"

Lockhart still stood at the head of the class, smiling as he watched the scene of chaos before him.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

Both, Matilda Winters and Draco Malfoy stopped their bickering to turn their heads to face Professor Lockhart. Neither of them knew what spell it was that he'd shouted. And clearly, it had done nothing, as the Cornish Pixies were still wreaking havoc. As now one attempted to pull Daisy from under the desk by the hair on her head. She squealed swatting at the small monsters.

"And what was that supposed to do?" asked Matilda.

The spell had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.

Matilda brandished her own wand and lifted it, her mouth open as she prepared to cast a spell of her own, a freezing charm she'd learned from Professor Flitwick.

And then her wand was gone. Torn from her grasp. A Pixie hovered above her, teasing her, making her leap, jump, and cry out for it to give her back her wand.

"My wand!" she screeched, looking up at the bug-eyed pixie. "My wand – give me my wand!!"

Malfoy started laughing as Tilly jumped up and down trying and failing to get her wand back. She climbed on top of the desk shouting and jumping all while getting her hair pulled and books wailed at her.

Draco had started laughing at Matilda, enjoying the sight of her attempting to reach a Pixie that hovered in the spot that her fingers just nearly could reach, but not quite. But it didn't last long as two pixies flew over his head, both taking pieces of his hair and pulling him backward. He screamed, reaching out for Crabbe and Goyle, though they were too busy avoiding the sharp-tooth bites.

"Immobulus!" Matilda screeched, now standing on the top of her wooden desk, still jumping over the pesky pixie that held her wand just out of her reach. "Immobulus! Will someone just cast, Im–"

"Immobulus!"

A voice Matilda knew shouted loudly, her wand waving around the room. And suddenly, the pixies were frozen in their spots. Still blinking, but unable to move.

Hermione Granger sighed, putting her wand back into her robe pocket.

Matilda finally managed to retrieve her wand. She'd stacked the assigned books Professor Lockhart gave out, and stood on them to reach the Pixie. There was a moment she feared reaching so close to it. But when she grabbed hold of her wand, nothing happened. The pixies were still frozen in place.

Slowly, everyone began to crawl from beneath their desks. The screaming had stopped. Now everyone whispered, careful not to do anything that might risk making the pixies come after them again. Everyone had their clothes ripped or hair tangled. Books had been scattered about the room. Scrolls of notes torn and shredded. Wands and bookbags were tossed out of the window. The Cornish Pixies had wreaked havoc in the classroom.

And anyone who knew anything about magical creatures knew that Cornish Pixies could not be uncaged until tame.

Zara Ashwood, Matilda's mother, had been a Magizoologist since she left Hogwarts, training under the very best of the profession. She specialized in taming, breeding, and even healing magical creatures.

Matilda had witnessed her mom tame Cornish Pixies before. She knew what they were like when plucked freshly from the wild. Once tamed though they were sweet, and even helpful little monsters. That's how she knew to use the Immobulus charm. Matilda had learned it from Professor Flitwick, but she knew it'd work on the pixies because she's watched her mom use the same spell on the pixies. That's how she knew it would work.

On their way out everyone congratulated and thanked Hermione. And she allowed it. Sure she had cast the spell but she never would have, had Matilda not shouted it aloud for everyone to hear.

She almost began to regret it. Giving the solution to the pixie problem. Matilda almost wished she allowed the chaos to ensue until she had gotten her wand back. Then she could have cast the spell, and then it would be her who everyone knew saved them.

"Hey, Matilda..." a small voice stopped her before she could turn out of the classroom.

Daisy Morgenstern stood a few feet back. She'd been helping Tracey Davis search for the glasses the pixies stole off her face and threw somewhere in the classroom.

"Thanks..." she smiled weakly.

Matilda furrowed her eyebrows, and moved her bag high up on her shoulders, "Thanks?" she asked. "Thanks for what?"

The blonde shrugged, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. Not that it helped any. Her hair was in a ball of tangles and sticking out in every which direction from being pulled on by the pixies. Matilda wondered if the small, blonde wads of hair littering the ground had all belonged to Daisy.

"I mean, you're the one who knew the spell," Daisy said.

She'd been huddled into a ball right under the desk Matilda was standing on as she shouted for someone to use the Immobulus charm. Of course, she'd have known it was Matilda who found the solution.

"Oh," Matilda nodded. "Yeah, you're welcome... I guess."

With that, she turned and found her way out of the classroom. She smoothed her own hair down as she walked down the long corridors, listening to some students cry about the scratches and bite marks they'd have to see Madam Pomfrey for.

Matilda would admit, Daisy Morgenstern's minor acknowledgment did make her feel a tad better. But it wasn't enough to mask the annoyance she felt. Never again would she hand something over if it meant she'd lose the credit for coming up with it.

Sometimes being the best meant some people had to get hurt. 

ϟ

( 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀 )

ϟ

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆

More of a glimpse into Matilda. And I know, not the most likable. This is on purpose, so don't blame my writing, please, haha! She is still one of my, if not, THE favorite character I've ever created for a fanfic.

I am not taking down all the chapters while I edit. If you're a new reader or back as a re-reader the way to tell if the chapter has been edited is to look at the font in which the title is written. Look at the title of this chapter, any chapter written in this style is edited. You can also scroll to the very bottom of the chapter, where the author's note is located, and see when the chapter has been edited! Non-edited chapters will not have an edited date. 

I am very proud of these rewrites. Honestly, I didn't realize how much I have changed as a writer. From 2017ish to now the difference is gigantic. And I hope you guys are noticing my growth as well. 

𝒂𝒏𝒅

As always, give me all of your comments. Your thoughts and theories. What do you think of Matilda, and how might she become involved more with the main storyline?

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝟏𝟐/𝟏𝟐/𝟐𝟐