My name is May, like the month, although I was born in November - weird, I know. Anyway, I'm a 7th year Gryffindor student at Hogwarts and the year is 1977, and although most witches take little notice of changing muggle fashion trends, I'm digging the funky colours. So I've started wearing a wide ribbon band around my hair that ties off at the nape of my neck. It's blue, like my eyes and I love it.
Sorry – got carried away. Do you want to hear about me? Well, I'm going to tell you anyway, because I don't think you can properly picture my story without picturing me. So, I have wavy hair that's a boring shade of light brown and my ears stick out a tad too much but thankfully my hair covers them. I think I'm fairly ordinary in my looks, in a 'put a pair of glasses on me and call me a librarian' kind of way. So people see me and they form opinions, what a nice girl, they think – but they'd be dead wrong.
You should know, I'm familiar with some hellish hexes and I'm not hesitant about throwing a few about. I play Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, a position that Captain James bloody Potter was doubtful to put me in to - because I'm a girl, I bet. When I showed up for Beater try-outs in our 6th year I was only female in a horde of testosterone and I saw that lopsided smirk on James' arrogant little face when he noticed me. So yeah, I got angry, but instead of losing my cool, I just got fierce, you know? Without bragging (okay maybe just a little bragging), I sent James off the pitch with broken glasses and an even more broken nose. Not my fault he was laughing when he should have been paying attention to the Bludger.
September 1977
So, I'm standing on Platform 9 and 3/4s and I really should not have worn high platform shoes because I'm kind of teetering on my feet in the summer heat. It was also a mistake to wear these tiny shorts too, because now they're riding up my bum and I'm trying to discretely tug them down.
At my feet I have my runty tabby cat Nigel howling in his box, an overstuffed suitcase and an ancient 1952 Swiftstick Broomstick. I'm scanning the crowd for my good friend Charlotte, though I know I'm wasting my time because Charlotte is always late. I'll probably see her out the train window, sprinting after the Hogwarts Express as we pull away from the station at 11 o'clock sharp. Maybe I'd be nice and toss her my broomstick. Maybe I'd just laugh at her.
I boarded the Hogwarts Express somewhat ungracefully (I may have kicked a first year in the face, whoops, sorry kid) and stomped my platforms down the tiny hall that ran along the length of the train. It was all fine until Sirius Black backed out of his compartment without looking right into me. And we fell, of course, because I was barely standing up straight in my shoes as it were, so now I'm sitting on the floor and I have Sirius sitting in my lap.
'Geddoff!' I muttered darkly.
He sprang up with the kind of grace that ballerinas dream of and smirked down at me.
'Proudfoot.' He addressed me by my surname. 'Watch where you're going next time.'
'Black, you watch where yo-' but my words were cut short when he pulled me to my feet and placed a steadying hand on my waist. 'Oi, hands off the goods.' I slapped his hand away.
He barked a laugh. 'What's so good about them?' He said as he ambled off. Yeah, he's a dick.
Do you want to hear about Sirius Black? I see you nodding away. Okay, he's the kind of guy you love to hate and hate to love. Some of the female students form some pretty full-on infatuations over him, but he just shows them nothing but disdain. Thinks everyone outside of his little boyband is unworthy of his time. Heh, boyband, I'm going to use that one next time I see him. He's a stuck-up, standoffish, arrogant little toe-rag who thinks he's cooler than thou. Thous? Thee? I mean everyone. Whatever. Hey, here's Rollo.
Rollo is also in 7th year but in Hufflepuff. His real name is Roland, but you can call him Rollo, everyone does. He dated Charlotte in 5th and 6th years, then they split at the end of last year (rather amicably, really) after they both realised they were better off as friends. I expected awkwardness and embarrassment between them, but they transitioned back into friendship seamlessly. It was kind of weird, to be honest with you. Not that I'm complaining, having my two best friends avoid each other would be far worse.
I banged my head against the door of the compartment to get his attention. 'Let me in will ya?' Nigel howled in agreement.
'Hey! Good summer?' He asked as I brutishly kicked my suitcase and broomstick into the compartment and quickly freed Nigel.
'Hot summer.' I replied and threw open the windows so I could kick off my shoes without stinking out the room.
'You complain when it's too cold, you complain when it's too hot, I think you just like complaining.'
'What? You're only just finding this out about me now?'
Rollo chuckled as I melted against my seat and tugged at my sweaty muggle clothes, hoping to find comfort.
'Phew,' I sighed. 'And you? Did you see Charlotte at all over the holidays?'
'Nah.' He grimaced, looked like he was going to say more, then let it go.
'So, Head Boy, Head Girl, who are they?'
'I heard from Remus that James is Head Boy this year.'
'Pshhh. You're having a laugh.' I replied. 'If that's true, Dumbledore is nuttier than I thought.'
Rollo shrugged. 'I dunno, Quidditch Captain, natural born leader, the birds like him too.'
'So Dumbledore chooses Head Boys based on looks, then?'
'Heh, probably.'
'So, who's Head Girl? Don't tell me! Is it you? It's you, isn't it?'
Roland let out a deep laugh. 'Nope. Still just a lowly Prefect.'
'Might be Alice? Or Lily?' Gryffindors were often given Prefect or Head Boy/Girl status, I guess we're just talented leaders or some shit like that. Yeah, it's not fair, but I don't care.
We had just begun to feel the vibrations under our feet when Charlotte burst in looking flustered. 'Lily's Head Girl. Ugggh. Last thing we need is another bossy Head Girl.'
'Hey, be nice.' Roland muttered. 'We can't all be rule breakers like you two.'
Charlotte and I grinned at each other. 'We're not "rule breakers"' Charlotte air quoted, 'we just don't like being told what to do.'
Roland shrugged. 'Same thing.' He looked at me for a moment, thoughtful. 'Have you talked to your mum and dad yet? About your future?'
'Yep.' I promptly replied. 'I told them I'm going to retire at the ripe old age of 18.' Charlotte and Roland laughed. 'Oh, you mean the other thing. That I can't go into the family business of selling antiques and artefacts because I absolutely suck at Ancient Runes and hate dusty old crap? That thing? Nah, I've got until graduation to break it to them and I'm going to procrastinate as long as possible.'
'What are you gonna do instead?' Charlotte was using her wand to blast cool air into her face.
I twitched my shoulders in a loose shrug. 'Is retiring early really off the table?' I reached over and scratched Nigel. 'I'm gonna go get changed.'
So, I seem to be the only person in the entire 7th year who has no idea what to do after Hogwarts. Mum and dad own this little shop called Relics & Curios in Diagon Ally that is basically a glorified Pawn Shop and they do a decent trade in family heirlooms that people bring in after batty Aunt Polly has finally kicked the bucket.
For my whole life, mum and dad have been harping on about how I'll take over the shop for them. They've pushed me to take Ancient Runes as a subject so I can better understand the value of the silly trinkets we sell. But I really don't want to spend my life working in this dusty, smelling-like-old-people shop but I've put off telling them that because I still haven't a clue what I actually want to do instead. It's all a right mare, if you ask me.
I closed the compartment door behind me and headed back down corridor. It's even hotter than earlier and we're sizzling like sausages in a pan within this hunk of metal - at least in my school skirt I'll get a nice bit of breeze where it counts.
'…I reckon I'll get this year's very first detention after that.'
I froze midstride opposite a closed compartment. I know that haughty voice. I'm not one to listen in, but…
'What? You're saying you want to be given a detention?' Came Remus' reply.
'Just the first one. On the first night. Remind everyone what they've missed, you know?' Sirius laughed loudly.
'Ha, ha, ha.' I mocked his laugh from the safety of the hallway.
They fell silent. Oops, did they hear me? I turned and hightailed it into the girls' bathroom just as they threw open the compartment door. Did they see me? Don't think so, I think I was safe. I decided to duck past their compartment window on the way back, just in case.
'So, new plan guys.' I said to Charlotte and Roland, as I rubbed my hands together somewhat greedily. 'Sirius wants the first detention of the year and he's got something planned for tonight at the Sorting. We're going to pull that little rug out from under him.'
'Okay, so we'll report him to a teacher.' Roland perked up.
'No, Rollo.' I shook my head and spoke slowly. 'Then he'll get that detention even easier. I want the first detention. Gee, I thought you were supposed to be clever.'
'I know.' Charlotte held a finger up. 'Keep it simple. Keep it classic. A Dungbomb. I happen to have a few right here.'
'Ugh, I thought something smelled in here.' Roland wrinkled his nose.
'Nah, that's just my feet. Okay. Dungbomb. Pass it over, I know just what I'm going to do.'
The Great Hall. Hmm, bit of a disappointing name, really. How about the Tremendous, Humongous, Stupendous Hall? Too long? I sat down next to Charlotte at the front end of the hall, close to where the Professors sat. Who was new? Who would be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor this year? There was a rather young witch sitting at the teachers' table and I could see some fine legs from where I was sitting. The boys would definitely like her.
Charlotte was already smirking. 'Stop.' I hissed and elbowed her, accidentally hitting her in the tit. 'Oops, sorry, but you'll give the game away too early.'
The huddle of first year students rolled in ready for the Sorting Ceremony. None wanted to be at the front of the group so they were making pretty slow progress to the front of the hall.
The Sorting Hat began its silly song, but I wasn't really listening. With a quick glance around me to check nobody was watching, I ducked down and lobbed a Dungbomb across the floor and right into the middle of the awaiting first years.
A second passed, then another couple, before they began to stir. They seemed to be blaming the stench on each other. Some were pinching their noses and groaning, others fanning the air away from their faces. The kid I'd accidentally kicked in the face earlier looked ready to spew. Ooh, sorry again, kiddo, nothing personal.
By the time the Sorting Hat had finished singing, I had nearly bit into my hand trying not to laugh and the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became. Eventually, a fuming McGonagall rose to her feet and demanded, 'who did this?! Who would dare do this during the Sorting?!'
The hall fell silent and I leapt to my feet before I could chicken out. 'Sorry Professor!' I called. Every single student turned in comedic unison to look at me. I could see Rollo rolling his eyes from the Hufflepuff table. Typical.
'Miss Proudfoot. Go to my office this second. I'll deal with you later.' McGonagall gave me her best I'm disappointed in you because you're in my house look, but I'd seen it a thousand times before. I sauntered past Sirius at the other end of the table. 'I'm first.' I said smugly. He looked sour grapes. Good, serves him right for sitting on me.
Outside in the Entrance Hall I made a quick detour over to the kitchen. When I was in my first year, an older student told me how to get into the kitchen (by tickling the pear on the still life painting, duh!) and it has been the best gift anybody has ever given to me. Seriously, if I knew that student's name, I'd write to him and promise him my firstborn son, because otherwise I'd be going hungry tonight.
After grabbing a chicken leg (ha! Bet the other students are still waiting to eat) I meandered down to McGonagall's office and sat on the bench in the hallway, awaiting the bollocking I knew I was in for.
I heard footsteps approach and I put on my best I'm so sorry, it was just a bit of harmless fun face but it was Sirius that rounded the corner.
'What you do?' I blurted out.
Sirius sat on the same bench, putting as much space as possible between himself and me. 'Why would I tell you?'
'Fine. Whatever. I bet you're fun at parties.'
'I am, actually.'
I rolled my eyes on the inside and glanced over. 'Wipe that smirk off your face.'
'This one?' He pointed to the trademark grin that adorned his face. 'Can't help it, it's my default expression. I even sleep with a smirk.'
I bet. I rolled my eyes on the outside this time and chose not to reply. I slouched in my seat and gnawed at my chicken leg.
'So sloppy.' He said.
'Don't care.' I responded.
'So, you overheard me, right? On the train?'
But I was saved from responding by the sound of McGonagall's quick and angry stride. I sat up, tossed the chicken bone into a nearby pot plant and quickly fixed my face into an expression of attrition.
But then Sirius looked over at me and grinned, and I couldn't help it, I grinned back.
'Never, have I ever, seen such a disrespectful display of childish behaviour from not one, but two Gryffindors on the same night! What did I ever do to deserve the both of you in my house? Dungbombs and fireworks - did you two plan it together?' She opened the door to her office and ushered us in.
'No, Professor!' We both chimed, insulted that she thought us in cahoots.
'Right, so a coincidence then. I expected better from two 7th year students.' McGonagall sighed and looked down at us through her spectacles. We both stayed silent. 'Detention this Saturday. 10am.'
'Yes, Professor.' We chimed in unison again. That was getting annoying.
The feast had ended, so I merged into the crowd of students heading up the marble staircase. I heard a voice in my ear.
'First equal, Proudfoot.'
Luckily for me – and everyone else, I guess – September 1st fell on a Thursday this year. That means, one singular day of school and then it's the weekend already.
At breakfast I hopped into a seat opposite James, who's bed hair looked just like his normal hair.
'Quidditch practise. When is it?' I piled my plate up with toast and bacon. Damn, I was hungry last night.
'Well, it was going to this Saturday morning, but since you'd rather spend it doing detention, I'm changing it to Sunday.'
I laughed and choked a little on my toast. 'Sowwy.' I muffled through a mouthful of food.
Sirius swung into the seat next to James. 'Swallow your food before you speak, we're not savages at this school.'
'I swallow!' I blurted out and then bit my lip when a few nearby boys turned around to gape at me. Sirius and James exchanged a smirk. Get your mind out the gutter, boys.
'Miss Proudfoot.' I jumped when I heard McGonagall's stern tone. I turned in my seat and hoped the guilt didn't show on my face. 'Timetable for today, same subjects as last year, I presume?'
'Yep.' I squeaked.
'Right, here you are. You're in double Defence this morning.'
'Thanks.' I muttered.
'She doesn't look much older than us, does she? Late-twenties, maybe?' James pointed a fork at our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. 'Do you remember seeing her at Hogwarts, Padfoot? An older student?'
'Nah.' Sirius showed the same interest in her that he gave all females.
We were joined for Defence by the Ravenclaws. Shame really, to be paired up with the school's goodie-two-shoes for this particular subject. It's the only class where I'd prefer to be stuck with the Slytherins. At least then I'd actually learn something about defending myself against curses.
The class numbers were small, about 12 students in total. Not many make the E grade necessary to push through to N.E.W.T level. Charlotte thought Defence to be a waste of time, so from Gryffindor we have Alice, Lily and I, plus James, Sirius and Remus. I guess Peter didn't make the cut. Did he make the cut to attend any classes?
Anyway, we were waiting in the hallway on the 3rd floor for our new Professor, who's name I never discovered due to last night's high jinks. Am I boring you? Probably. So I'm just going to skim over the next 10 minutes.
Right, now we're in class, Miss Professor has just introduced herself as Professor Twelvetrees in an American accent and I'm thinking whoa, she must have been keen for the position if she's come to Europe at this time, I mean shit's really going down over here due to You-know-who.
So, I've already decided I dig this determined woman, when she tells us that she is an Auror for MACUSA (a much better abbreviation for a ministry than our M.O.M) and it's then I decide that I love her. Well, that is until she tells us we'll be beginning the year with the extremely difficult non-verbal Patronus Charm and she calls me to the front of the class to demonstrate. Now I hate her.
'Yes, Professor Twelveknees.' I joked to classroom titter.
'Twelvetrees.' She corrects. 'Now, I would have gotten a Dementor in for you today since you're 7th years, but Professor Dumbledore said no, student safety first, yada, yada, yada. So you'll have to make do without one.'
We did a little on Patronus Charms last year and I can produce a non-corporeal spirit, but I've never mastered the charm. I'm hoping that today is the day I do it and I decide to picture the 1st years from last night on the verge of puking. I firmly think Expecto Patronum.
A wisp flew out my wand and vanished.
'My Patronus is a ghost.' I bluffed. The class laughed. Hey, I'd like to see you guys do better.
'Just as expected. Sit down.' Professor Twelvefleas pulls Sirius to the front. She must be targeting the two of us for our Sorting Ceremony disruptions.
I was so prepared to laugh at him when he also failed, that when he actually produced a fully-fledged canine Patronus I almost fell out of my chair in shock.
'Wonderful. Okay, that's exactly what we're aiming for today. Pair up and practise together.'
Okay, Alice and Lily have paired up. Damn, I don't really like anybody else.
'Want some tips?' I turned to see Sirius lounging in his chair and twirling his wand in his hand.
'Nope. I really don't.'
'Suit yourself.' He shrugged at me and continued to flick his wand around his fingers. I glanced back around the classroom, but everyone else had paired up. Sirius sat watching me and waiting for what he inevitably knew was coming.
'Fine, Pooch. Let's get this over with.'
He grinned but otherwise let the dig go.
Okay, so you can't tell a single soul I said this, and certainly not Sirius Black himself, but he was actually helpful. He explained the intricacies of the charm fairly simply and I was reluctantly impressed. In the last ten minutes of the lesson, the wisp of smoke I'd previously conjured had taken on a shape.
'What is it?' I asked it circled us.
But Sirius was laughing. 'It's a pig!'
'No, it's not!' I asserted. But it was. My Patronus was a pig. The animal that best represented my traits and personality, was a bloody pig!
'Told you that you're a slob.' Sirius could barely get the words out around laughter.
'Hardy, ha, ha.'
'Very good, Miss Proudfoot.' Professor Twelvebees said. 'I wasn't sure if you had it in you.'
'Yes, Miss Pigfoot, well done.' Sirius congratulated me too.
'Couldn't have done it without you, Bow-wow.'
I had Charms after lunch and we'd finally begun to learn Healing Charms this year, which meant that we spent the lesson breaking our own bones and then repairing them. Madam Pomfrey checked us all over at the end of the lesson, and with a hearty poke and prod, deemed us all fit and healthy. I think I may have been better at breaking bones than actually healing them. So I guess training to become a healer is out of the question.
Final period of the day was a study period and despite a small six-inch essay on the necessity of a happy memory to produce a Patronus, I was basically free for the weekend. Aside from tomorrow's detention that is.
I fell into the chair next to Charlotte in the Gryffindor common room. She had parchment, quills and textbooks strewn over an entire table.
'Why did I choose to study bloody Arithmancy, huh? Why do I need to learn glorified mathematics?' She lowered her forehead to the table.
'Because you're a sucker for punishment?'
'Must be.' Charlotte muttered into the wood. 'Rollo wants to meet us down by the lake at four.'
'Us? Or just you.'
'Nope, definitely us both.'
'Isn't it awkward? I mean, you guys split up after two years of dating and now you're hanging out like it never happened.'
Charlotte looked up and hesitated. 'Well, I don't know about Rollo, but it was easy for me because I kind of fancied someone else.'
'Who?!' Oops, that was a bit loud. Charlotte looked at me through raised brows.
'I'm not telling. I know what you're like. You'll use it as ammunition.'
'Ammu-what?' I asked. Charlotte was muggleborn and sometimes it was like she spoke a whole other language.
'Nevermind.' She shook her head at me.
'Come on. I'll tell you who I like.'
'Who do you like?' She asked, disbelieving that I would ever form a crush.
'Myself.'
Charlotte snorted. 'Doesn't count.'
'Well, all the blokes at Hogwarts are pretty immature.'
'You got that right.'
I sighed and nudged her arm, causing her to splatter her homework with ink droplets. 'You can't tell me you fancy someone and not say who.'
'Alright, fine.' She nodded over to where James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were lounging over the various couches and armchairs that circled the fireplace. 'One of them. I'm not saying which.'
'Gee, you are a sucker for punishment.'
Charlotte laughed. 'I would let that man punish me.'
'Charlotte the Harlot. They'll write ballads about you for years to come.'
We dissolved into giggles. I guess we were just as immature as the boys.
That afternoon we hung out with Rollo down at the lake. It was nice to be in the late summer sun. Rollo brought along a bag of Bertie Bott's Beans, Charlotte brought along her vivacious personality, I brought along a loaf of bread and attempted to feed the Giant Squid. So we all contributed something to the group, really.
'What's the new Defence Professor like? I've got her first thing on Monday.' Roland asked.
'Eh.' I shrugged and stretched. 'She's got great legs.'
'Well, I guess that's all I need to know, then.' Came his sarcastic reply.
'I produced a fully-fledged Patronus on my first lesson.'
'Wow! Really? That's incredible. What is it?'
I mumbled into my shoulder.
'Pardon?' Charlotte asked.
I sighed. 'It's a pig.'
My friends turned to each other and simultaneously burst into laughter.
'Yeah, yeah, hilarious.'
'It kind of is. So, she's good then?'
'Well, maybe. I actually learned how to do it from Sirius Black.' I muttered. Charlotte and Roland looked taken aback, so I changed the subject. 'Right.' I clapped my hands. 'It's dinner time and I'm a pig, so let's go.'
At nine thirty on Saturday morning, I dragged my sorry arse out of bed. Would McGonagall let me do detention in my pyjamas? Nah. Better not risk it.
The Great Hall was mostly empty, a few perky morning birds around, but most students were still asleep. Like I could have been. I poured myself a coffee and added a few generous spoons of sugar to it.
Sirius swung himself into the seat beside me. 'Would you like some more coffee to go with your cup of sugar?'
'No thanks, but I've saved some sugar for you since you could do with sweetening up.' I placed the jar of sugar right on top of his plate of his scrambled eggs.
'Ugh. Can't stand the stuff.' He lifted the jar out his eggs, his mouth twisted with distaste.
'Who doesn't like sugar?'
'Me.'
'Just you then.'
'That's right, Piggy.'
'Bad dog.' I downed my caffeine syrup and left the table. I didn't want to remain in his company any more than I had to.
Detention with McGonagall is never fun. She sat Sirius and I at desks on either side of the classroom, confiscated out wands and gave us Advanced Transfiguration textbooks, parchment and a quill each.
'Since both of you are in my N.E.W.T. class, you're going to do something constructive with your detention.' McGonagall looked at each of us for a second before continuing. 'I want a 12-inch essay on Animagus Transformation that I will grade. If you achieve what I deem to be an E or O grade, you may leave. Any grade below that and you will redo the essay until I am satisfied that you understand the concept. Is that clear?'
'Yes, Professor.' I grumbled. Sirius seemed happy.
Turned out Sirius was happy because he apparently knew the subject. I'd written precisely 5-inches when he handed his essay to Professor McGonagall. Even she seemed surprised. She graded it in silence, and with raised eye-brows and disbelief evident in her voice, she said 'Excellent. Black, you may go.'
And Sirius, smug as fuck, reclaimed his wand and left.
That wasn't fun. When McGonagall finally graded my essay she told me I'd scraped an E. Barely. Well, whatever, I'll take it.
When Sunday morning rolled around I was happily out of bed early for Quidditch practice. The other Beater on the team was a 6th Year named Ethan Ward and he was exactly what you'd picture a Beater to look like. Burly. Can really whack the Bludger from one side of the pitch to the other, but has shoddy aim. My range is much smaller, but my aim is spot on – a direct hit every time. So James suggested we work in tandem. Ethan hits the Bludger to me, I whack them at the opposing players. We play on each other's strengths. Even I had to admit it was a good idea.
We usually get a couple of people come watch us practise. James doesn't mind too much (means he can show off a bit) but refuses to let anybody outside of Gryffindor watch lest they learn our precious game secrets. So midway through the session I looked over and noticed that Roland had turned up to watch, and James had gone over to tell him to leave. By the time I'd flown over to join them, the discussion had begun to get heated.
'Hey, mate.' Roland was saying. 'I'm not spying for the Hufflepuffs, I've just come to watch May fly.'
'James,' I put a hand on his shoulder. 'Rollo barely understands the rules of Quidditch. It's fine, he's my friend.'
'Okay, then. Not a word from you, Rollo, or-' James pretended to pull out his wand and jinx him. 'Got it?'
After practise, I changed back into muggle clothes and met Roland for the walk back to the castle. He greeted me with a wide smile, his dark hair a little wind swept.
'Hey, you.' I said. 'You basically risked death to come watch me fly. James takes Quidditch veerrryyy seriously.'
'I can tell.' He said simply.
'So, why are you here? No homework to be done?'
Roland snorted. 'Nothing important.' He fell silent. Then he looked at me.
'What? Food on my face?'
'No.' But he blushed, just a little.
I didn't like how this conversation was going. I didn't like how my friend looked at me. Has he always looked at me like that? I'll admit it, I freaked out a bit. Something uncomfortable had lodged itself in the pit of my stomach and I didn't know how to handle it.
'Oh hey, I've just remembered that I've left my broomstick polish back in the changing room. I'm just going to run back and get it.' I avoided his eyes.
'Okay, I'll just wait here.'
'No, lunch is almost over, you go ahead. I insist.' I didn't wait for an answer.
I didn't expect there to actually be anyone in the changing room when I returned. But James was putting the Quaffle away assisted by Sirius though I hadn't seen him during our practise. They jumped when I walked in, it seemed I'd interrupted a private conversation.
'Err. I thought I'd left my broomstick polish in here, but I guess not, silly me.' I laughed and turned to leave.
'Your broomstick is ancient. Were you even alive when that thing was made?' Sirius called out.
I snorted. 'Nah. Don't have anything better though.'
'I do.'
'Good for you, Pup.'
'No, I mean you could borrow mine. It's a Nimbus 1001.'
I exclaimed, 'you have a Nimbus?!'
And James warned, 'she'll thrash it, Padfoot.'
'I won't, I'll be good.' I chipped in. Sirius looked amused. I could see it in his clever grey eyes. 'Wait, why are you offering?'
'Because I feel sorry for you, Piglet, riding that piece of rubbish.'
'In that case, no thank-you.' I walked off, though others would have said that I stomped.
So that was my first week back at Hogwarts. I mean a bit more happened. I fell asleep during McGonagall's lecture on Human to Avian Transfiguration. She dropped her heavy textbook on the desk in front of me, then gave me another essay writing detention. Just a few more and I'll have mastered N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration.
There were no more weird silences or looks from Roland. Dunno if I read the situation wrong or what, but he seemed to be back to his usual platonic self. So I'm going to forget about it.
Sirius Black got on my nerves a whole lot more, but you knew that already. He oinked at me in the hallway so I disarmed his wand and threw it down the staircase calling out, 'fetch!' I liked that day. That was a good day.
A/N: Thank-you to everyone who took the time to read my latest fic - love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think. You can also expect a new chapter to be posted every weekend for the foreseeable future - Thanks!
