It was September 1st again, and the Hogwarts Express was about twenty minutes away from Hogsmeade Station. Heri had spent the majority of the ride catching up with her more casual school-friends — and crying into Lucian's and Graham's shoulders that Marcus had graduated — before finding her way back to the compartment her crowd had more or less laid claim to.
It had been a laid-back journey so far, but a trip on the Express just wouldn't be complete without someone exclaiming over something she did that they found shocking. Heri paused in her conversation with Ernie about possible recruits for the Quidditch team and looked up from the scarf she was crocheting to see Hermione Granger gaping at her from the doorway of the compartment.
The rest of Heri's usual crowd looked up as well, their conversations tapering off at the horrified exclamation, all looking bothered in one way or another. "What's it to you, Granger?" Zacharias sneered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. He had never made it a secret that he had no affection for the Gryffindor girl.
(Then again, he had little affection for anyone.)
"If she wanted to walk around in a pair of trousers and a rain smock, it would still be none of your business." "Oh, let's not start," Heri said, addressing both self-righteous loons. "Yes, Hermione, I'm not in the standard kit.
I doubt I'll be getting into any trouble though, so you don't have to worry yourself over it." "No trouble?" said Hermione. "I don't know how strict Professor Sprout is, but Professor McGonagall takes the rules very seriously; if she sees you out of uniform, she'll be on you faster than blinking!" Heri sighed a bit through her nose and put her work down on her lap.
"Really now, no need to fuss. I've checked the rulebook from cover to cover, and there's absolutely nothing against adding a few touches to the uniform. In fact, from what I've read, what's currently accepted as the standard kit isn't even the actual official set anyway." Hermione looked horribly ruffled. "Isn't it? That can't be right!" She seemed to be on the verge of whipping out her own copy of the rulebook to verify it.
"If it isn't the official uniform," Ernie chimed in, a puzzled look on his face, "then why's it on the official supply list?" "Is it?" asked Heri, a smile curving her lips. "From what I remember of the list from first-year, it said something about work robes, a pointed hat, a cloak, and . . . gloves, I think." Megan leaned forward eagerly to agree.
"That's right! I remember the seamstress I went to had to get the uniform separately from what was on the list!" "But if that's true, what are we supposed to be wearing?" Hannah asked, looking confused. "From what I could figure," said Heri, "the school administration changes up the uniform every once in a while to keep up with the current fashion and economic standard of the nation. Rather considerate of them, I suppose.
In any case, the only thing I found that was acknowledged as the official Hogwarts uniform is the original kit they used back when the school was first built: a black cassock — you know, like those robes Professor Snape wears — with a knee-length tabard in our House colours over it. It reminds me a lot of the outfit that the Catholics have their altar boys wear, to be honest." "Are you serious?" asked Sally-Anne, aghast at the fashion disaster.
"That's right out of the Dark Ages!" "Well, it's not like it's hideous or anything, just astonishingly out-of-date." Heri shrugged. "So, since we're all technically in blatant violation of uniform anyway, a few alterations are hardly a big deal, now are they?" Hermione looked as if she was only just holding herself back from scolding Heri for circumventing 'The Rules.' Sally-Anne huffed in amusement.
"Alright then, Miss Clever, have it your way. What have you done to your kit anyway?" Heri grinned and stood up to give them a better view. "I'm actually really proud of it, you know? I went through some clothes we had in storage and altered some of the old Hogwarts' uniforms I found. This one's actually a pinafore dress, though you can't really tell with the cardigan I've got on.
I think it's from the fifties, and the skirt is sewn up and pleated differently from what's standard right now. Much easier to walk in." Sally-Anne, resident fashion expert that she was, inspected the outfit carefully. She made a sound of interest.
"I like it. It's subtle, so I didn't notice it before, but it's not dowdy like the A-Line midi skirts everyone's wearing. It's a lot fuller too." "I attached petticoats." Heri did a pretty twirl, revealing the edge of her lacy underskirts. "It didn't feel right without the extra volume. I attached petticoats to all of my skirts." Sally-Anne nodded.
"It's a bit longer too; I'm surprised it doesn't make your legs look stumpy with the flats we wear. Guess you just have long legs." Heri shrugged, whirling again idly, admiring the ruffle of her skirts. "The older girls seem to like their skirts shorter right now, but I like the length of this one.
The movement of the fabric is a lot more elegant when you can walk without having to worry about flashing your knickers in the breeze, you know?" Heri didn't mention that she had sewn runes into the hem to prevent the skirt from flying up pass twirling height. She also didn't mention the sequences to prevent burning and tearing that she had stitched into the inside seams.
Nope.
That was between her and Iolanthe, and Iolanthe wasn't in any condition to be telling anyone anything just yet. "Can we not talk about knickers?" asked Zacharias, an uncomfortable, grumpy expression on his face. "I'd rather not hear about girls' undergarments." "I would," Ernie cut in, a wicked leer on his face, leaning in with mock-eagerness. "By all means, please continue."
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