Hi! So I decided to write a Heathers/Harry Potter crossover fic! The only canon hp characters will be a few professors, as this takes place in between the Marauders verse and the Golden Trio verse. It'll be sort of a mix between movie!Heathers and musical!Heathers so Hope you enjoy and don't forget to rate and comment.

September 1st, 1989. Dear Diary,

Well, it's here. The first day of seventh year. I look around at all of these people I've known since we were eleven, and I think to myself, 'What the hell happened?'. I remember when we were all tiny and pimple faced and worried that we couldn't cast a proper levitation spell. Now everything is all about crushing anyone and everyone in your way. The only constant is Martha Dunnstock, my best friend since…. diapers. She's got a huge heart, but around here, that doesn't cut i-

Veronica Sawyer quit writing away in her diary after the third tap on her shoulder, which happened to come from the very person she'd been writing about. "Hey Martha." A wide smile broke across her face at the sight of her best friend.

"Veronica! I missed you on the train, I wanted to show you the birthday present I got over the summer!" She pulled a compact, rectangular piece of metal attached to a black string connecting the device to a pair of earmuffs. "They call it a walkman, you see, you press a button on the player, and music comes out through the headphones. It's even got yellow on the side, for Hufflepuff!" She would've demonstrated, but it was common knowledge that electronic items didn't work inside castle walls.

"That's great, Martha, you'll have to show me how that works when we go to Hogsmeade." Martha was one of the few muggleborns Veronica knew, but Martha made sure her best friend stayed up to date with all the new innovations in the muggle world. Who knew, it might come in handy one day.

"What classes do you have this year? I have Charms and Herbology on Mon-" Veronica's second interruption came in the form of a small stink pellet, thrown by none other than the Gryffindor Keeper, Kurt Kelly. Seemingly immune to the fumes of rotten food that now floated through the courtyard. "Martha Dumptruck, Mudblood Bank!" The insult was followed by a belch directed towards the Hufflepuff's ear. This sort of harassment had been an almost daily occurrence since 5th year; Martha was used to it. Veronica, however, was not.

Kurt Kelly, Keeper. He is the smartest guy on the quidditch team; which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

"Hey! Pick that up! Right now!" Veronica barked, picking up an authoritative tone that didn't quite fit her voice. "What gives you the right to pick on my friend. You're a Hogwarts hobo waiting to happen. A future dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron."

Kurt scowled, advancing toward Veronica like a lion. Stopping only when their faces almost touched, the Gryffindor raised his pointer finger to her forehead as a vicious smirk spread across his face. "You got a zit right there." He said, loud enough for the entire courtyard to hear. Teasing claps and laughter sounded from the nearby Gryffindor Quidditch team, waiting patiently for their Keeper.

Dear Diary,

Why? It's like someone threw us in here to fight to the death.

The laughter and and bullying only ended at the entrance of three girls, each from different houses. Each wore a single colored headband and matching brooch. One green, one yellow, and one red. All anyone could do was watch in awe.

And then there's the Heathers...they just float above it all. Heather McNamara, Hufflepuff. Her Dad is loaded. He sells brooms. Heather Duke, Slytherin. No discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants.

Heather Chandler, Gryffindor. She is a mythic bitch.

They're solid teflon, never touched, never bothered, never harassed. Everyone either wants to be a Heather or be with a Heather. I would do anything to be like that.

"Grow up Heather, Bulimia is so '87." Heather Chandler groaned as she reapplied her makeup in the girl's lavatory on the second floor.

"Heather's right. Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather." Heather McNamara frowned, patting the back of Heather Duke, who'd just finished throwing up.

"Yeah Heather, maybe you're right." She said weakly, before ducking back into one of the stalls.

"Ah, Heather and Heather." Professor Trelawney stood in the door of the lavatory. The sickening sound of regurgitation alerted the professor to the presence of Duke. "And Heather. Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting. You all are late for class."

"Heather's not feeling well. We're helping her." Chandler justified, though the look on her face definitely showed her disdain toward the teacher.

"Not without a hall pass. Week's detention for all of you." Just as Trelawney turned to leave, Veronica, who'd conveniently been inside an adjacent stall, burst out, holding a folded sheet of paper, torn from her diary. "Actually, Professor, all four of us are out on a hall pass." She handed over the forgery and hoped she'd nailed Dumbledore's signature well enough.

"Well...I see you're all listed. Hurry up and get where you're going." The Divination teacher grumbled, leaving the girls to their business.

"Thanks for the assist," Heather Chandler looked to Veronica, the other two flanking her on either side. "Who are you?"

"I-I'm Veronica Sawyer. Uh, I crave a boon."

"What boon?"

"Let me sit with you guys at lunch today. No talking necessary. If people see that you tolerate me, maybe they'll leave me alone." Hopefully, she could be an untouchable by association, and then Martha could be an untouchable by second-hand association.

The Heathers laughed daintily, almost as if they'd spent hours learning how to harmonize and synchronize their laughter.

"Before you answer I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes."

"How about prescriptions?" Duke piped up, only to be silenced by an aggressive "Shut up, Heather!" by Chandler. "Well, you do have good bone structure." McNamara nodded in agreement. "And a symmetrical face. If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull I'd have matching halves. That's very important."

"And you know, this could be beautiful," Chandler waved a hand in front of Veronica's face, imagining it with makeup. "Mascara, maybe some lip gloss and we're on our way. Heather, I need your brush. We could have this done by lunch." She said contentedly, motioning for the Heathers to surround Veronica. "Okay?"

"Okay!"

Dear Diary,

When you're beautiful, it's a beautiful freakin' day.