A tale to tell
--
Harry was flying. Flying toward the golden gleam of the snitch, it's feeble wings beating violently. In one, last, futile effort to escape, it darted to the side, and quickly spun. It was no use. The firebolt caught up - Harry could feel his hands curling around the snitch, and -
"MR. POTTER!" Exclaimed Snape, slamming a book down on his desk, the anger in his eyes more intense than ever. Harry gave a jump which knocked his glasses askew. "Need I remind you that this is a potions lesson, Mr. Potter," he carried on, "and that I will not tolerate you daydreaming in lesson! Ten points from Gryffindor! Stay behind after the lesson!" The whole class groaned and gave sympathetic nods toward Harry. Everyone, that is, except for Draco Malfoy - Harry's biggest burden - who proceeded to place his hands to his heart, and sigh contentedly, eyes tearful and blinking rapidly, mimicking Harry's daydream. Another sneer was thrown Harry's way, followed by the brainless guffaw of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's muscle-men. It was going to be a bad day, Harry thought to himself.
***
"Alluri!" Came the shout, which was drowned out by a huge explosion, pink smoke swiftly billowing from the open door of the new teacher's classroom. Hermione and Ron looked at each other, eyes widening. "Professor White?" Hermione called, careful to stand close enough to hear a reply, but far enough not to get touched by the smoke, which, by now, was humming loudly. As it reached it's crescendo, Professor White stepped out from the classroom, entirely pink. Ron and Hermione looked at each other again, Professor White giving a cheerful smile as he locked his door. "Hello, children!" He chirped, making his way on down the hall and disappearing down the stairs. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, for the third time. "Well..He seems..Nice.." Said Hermione, flustered. "Forget nice!" Exclaimed Ron. "E's flippin' bonkers, 'e is!" Ron shook his head and sighed. "D'ya think we should go see Harry?" Hermione nodded, and they set off, not saying anything. It was Ron who broke the silence. "Poor Harry. Since he got kicked off the Quidditch team, he hasn't been the - OOF!" Ron was sprawled on the floor, staring up into the eyes of Harry. "Well..speak of the devil! 'Ello Harry!"
Harry gave a fed-up grunt. Hermione nudged him. "What's up with you?" She huffed. "Snape." He replied, offering Ron a hand, which he took, and ended up pulling Harry down with. They both got up on their own, dusting off their robes and looking at each other. Hermione stepped inbetween them, slipped her arms into theirs, and began to walk. "I know what'll cheer you up." She smiled mischeviously and led them up the stairs. The fat lady in the portrait was doing some sort of dance, and the others, Sir Cadogan, the trolls, and a goblin, were looking petrified, holding onto a rail for dear life, the ground trembling. Ron, of course, pointed and laughed, and Harry gave a snigger. Hermione thrust her hands into her hips and held her hed high. "Well, I think it's lovely!" She exclaimed, and the Fat Lady smiled happily, the portrait moving to the side to let them in.
As they entered, a roar of noise hit them. The house were all shouting and screaming excitedly. Crimson bits of clothing and banners were everywhere. Even Neville was cheering. Harry, starting to get a little annoyed, opened his mouth to scream, but, before he could, he was shoved over by Fred, Ron's older brother. They both stared at each other, bewildered. But it was Fred's face that lightened first, laughing heartily and embracing harry tightly. "What's going on!?" Harry inquired, a little too loudly in Fred's ear. "THE WHOLE HOUSE! THE QUIDDITCH TEAM!" Fred was not making any sense, and he was probably louder than the whole house put together. "WE'RE LEAVING SCHOOL FOR A WHOLE MONTH, HARRY! WE'RE GOING TO PLAY THE ROTSMEADE ROCKETS!" Harry's eyes widened. The Rotsmeade Rockets? But these were professional teams! "I know" Said Fred, with a grin. "But they reckon we're good enough, don't they George?" He turned to his twin. "Yeah!" He exclaimed. "But we weren't bef-" He was cut short, elbowed by Fred. George was writhing on the floor when Harry stood up. "I'm not going." he mumbled, and made his way up to the Dormitories.
Harry was flying. Flying toward the golden gleam of the snitch, it's feeble wings beating violently. In one, last, futile effort to escape, it darted to the side, and quickly spun. It was no use. The firebolt caught up - Harry could feel his hands curling around the snitch, and -
"MR. POTTER!" Exclaimed Snape, slamming a book down on his desk, the anger in his eyes more intense than ever. Harry gave a jump which knocked his glasses askew. "Need I remind you that this is a potions lesson, Mr. Potter," he carried on, "and that I will not tolerate you daydreaming in lesson! Ten points from Gryffindor! Stay behind after the lesson!" The whole class groaned and gave sympathetic nods toward Harry. Everyone, that is, except for Draco Malfoy - Harry's biggest burden - who proceeded to place his hands to his heart, and sigh contentedly, eyes tearful and blinking rapidly, mimicking Harry's daydream. Another sneer was thrown Harry's way, followed by the brainless guffaw of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's muscle-men. It was going to be a bad day, Harry thought to himself.
***
"Alluri!" Came the shout, which was drowned out by a huge explosion, pink smoke swiftly billowing from the open door of the new teacher's classroom. Hermione and Ron looked at each other, eyes widening. "Professor White?" Hermione called, careful to stand close enough to hear a reply, but far enough not to get touched by the smoke, which, by now, was humming loudly. As it reached it's crescendo, Professor White stepped out from the classroom, entirely pink. Ron and Hermione looked at each other again, Professor White giving a cheerful smile as he locked his door. "Hello, children!" He chirped, making his way on down the hall and disappearing down the stairs. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, for the third time. "Well..He seems..Nice.." Said Hermione, flustered. "Forget nice!" Exclaimed Ron. "E's flippin' bonkers, 'e is!" Ron shook his head and sighed. "D'ya think we should go see Harry?" Hermione nodded, and they set off, not saying anything. It was Ron who broke the silence. "Poor Harry. Since he got kicked off the Quidditch team, he hasn't been the - OOF!" Ron was sprawled on the floor, staring up into the eyes of Harry. "Well..speak of the devil! 'Ello Harry!"
Harry gave a fed-up grunt. Hermione nudged him. "What's up with you?" She huffed. "Snape." He replied, offering Ron a hand, which he took, and ended up pulling Harry down with. They both got up on their own, dusting off their robes and looking at each other. Hermione stepped inbetween them, slipped her arms into theirs, and began to walk. "I know what'll cheer you up." She smiled mischeviously and led them up the stairs. The fat lady in the portrait was doing some sort of dance, and the others, Sir Cadogan, the trolls, and a goblin, were looking petrified, holding onto a rail for dear life, the ground trembling. Ron, of course, pointed and laughed, and Harry gave a snigger. Hermione thrust her hands into her hips and held her hed high. "Well, I think it's lovely!" She exclaimed, and the Fat Lady smiled happily, the portrait moving to the side to let them in.
As they entered, a roar of noise hit them. The house were all shouting and screaming excitedly. Crimson bits of clothing and banners were everywhere. Even Neville was cheering. Harry, starting to get a little annoyed, opened his mouth to scream, but, before he could, he was shoved over by Fred, Ron's older brother. They both stared at each other, bewildered. But it was Fred's face that lightened first, laughing heartily and embracing harry tightly. "What's going on!?" Harry inquired, a little too loudly in Fred's ear. "THE WHOLE HOUSE! THE QUIDDITCH TEAM!" Fred was not making any sense, and he was probably louder than the whole house put together. "WE'RE LEAVING SCHOOL FOR A WHOLE MONTH, HARRY! WE'RE GOING TO PLAY THE ROTSMEADE ROCKETS!" Harry's eyes widened. The Rotsmeade Rockets? But these were professional teams! "I know" Said Fred, with a grin. "But they reckon we're good enough, don't they George?" He turned to his twin. "Yeah!" He exclaimed. "But we weren't bef-" He was cut short, elbowed by Fred. George was writhing on the floor when Harry stood up. "I'm not going." he mumbled, and made his way up to the Dormitories.