The irony of her desire to become the leader of the pack was entirely lost on Trixie as she watched the other fourth year girls quietly sit on beds and mutter to each other, clearly waiting to see what would happen next. Miss Fudge was quiet and that, she thought, was good. It was a sign on weakness, proof that she had nothing to retaliate with and, without her once illustrious friend Miss Fudge was going to have to mind her tongue.

The smirk on her lips was in danger of becoming permanently etched on Trixie’s face as her eyes lit up in triumph. Even if she’d wanted to little-miss-high-and-mighty couldn’t do anything without getting herself into trouble, and she clearly wanted to!

“Well that’s settled then. This is my bed now and if I find any stray hairs I’ll pass them over so you have something to remember her by.”