A/N - This is the product of a late night chat about why I shouldn't be allowed near Hufflepuffs. The story below should be proof enough. Syd, I hope you're happy, this is all your fault!
Word Count - 201
Magic Mushrooms
"I know that, but seriously, a ferret, that's genius Hermione!" Ron muttered, having just been told off for laughing when Draco entered the hall.
"Still, Moody could have really hurt him, not to mention what Mr Malfoy will do when he hears about it," Hermione huffed. Harry rolled his eyes. He had listened to this same argument three times in the last three days.
Before Ron could retort, the doors of the Great Hall burst open, and Cedric Diggory came running into the hall. He had what could only be described as 'war paint' splashed on his face, no shirt, and was waving what looked to be Godric Gryffindor's sword around.
"I am Godric Gryffindor! Bow before your king," he shouted, holding the sword aloft.
The hall was in silence, every person staring at the very odd sight in front of them. Even the teachers seemed to have been frozen with shock.
As Dumbledore rose from the table, Harry saw Ernie MacMillan shake his head.
"We told him to lay off the magic mushrooms!" he said to Hannah, who was seated next to him.
"At least he doesn't think he's a sparkly vampire this time. That was a nightmare!"