It's Not Christmas, It's Angelina!
Part 1: Not Quite Christmas
Harry Potter woke up groggily one Saturday morning to someone vigilantly shaking him. "Ron, stop, it's not Christmas yet...." He said, half- asleep. But the shaking didn't stop. He opened his eyes to see a 7th year Gryffindor girl peering down at him.
"Angelina? What are you doing in here?" he asked.
"Quidditch practice!" Angelina Johnson said excitedly. Harry glanced out the nearest window – there was no light coming in whatsoever.
"You sound just like Wood," Harry complained. "Besides, it's like, before morning. Just let me have some more sleep. A few hours, maybe." He then realized something, and sat up with a start. "Wait a minute. You're a girl. And you're standing in the middle of a boy's dormitory."
"So? We have a match against Slytherin next week. You do wanna win don't you?" she pleaded.
"Yea, I guess," Harry said, forcing himself out of bed. He walkedover to his best friend Ron Weasley's bed to wake him up, for he was Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. But Angelina stopped him.
"Ron's not coming. Each person is gonna have their own separate practice time, you know, so everyone can get a little practice for just their position. Today's your day!" she explained.
"But why so early?" he asked, pulling on his Quidditch robes over his pajamas.
"For one, I doubt the Slytherin team will even think to practice this early in the morning, the brainless gits. Plus I've gotta do everybody's separate practices by next week. Just get your Firebolt and meet me on the Qudditch fields." With that, Angelina dashed out of the dormitory, across the common room, and through the portrait hole.
Harry grabbed his Firebolt and lugged himself through the common room, the broomstick bouncing along behind him with every step he took.
Part 1: Not Quite Christmas
Harry Potter woke up groggily one Saturday morning to someone vigilantly shaking him. "Ron, stop, it's not Christmas yet...." He said, half- asleep. But the shaking didn't stop. He opened his eyes to see a 7th year Gryffindor girl peering down at him.
"Angelina? What are you doing in here?" he asked.
"Quidditch practice!" Angelina Johnson said excitedly. Harry glanced out the nearest window – there was no light coming in whatsoever.
"You sound just like Wood," Harry complained. "Besides, it's like, before morning. Just let me have some more sleep. A few hours, maybe." He then realized something, and sat up with a start. "Wait a minute. You're a girl. And you're standing in the middle of a boy's dormitory."
"So? We have a match against Slytherin next week. You do wanna win don't you?" she pleaded.
"Yea, I guess," Harry said, forcing himself out of bed. He walkedover to his best friend Ron Weasley's bed to wake him up, for he was Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. But Angelina stopped him.
"Ron's not coming. Each person is gonna have their own separate practice time, you know, so everyone can get a little practice for just their position. Today's your day!" she explained.
"But why so early?" he asked, pulling on his Quidditch robes over his pajamas.
"For one, I doubt the Slytherin team will even think to practice this early in the morning, the brainless gits. Plus I've gotta do everybody's separate practices by next week. Just get your Firebolt and meet me on the Qudditch fields." With that, Angelina dashed out of the dormitory, across the common room, and through the portrait hole.
Harry grabbed his Firebolt and lugged himself through the common room, the broomstick bouncing along behind him with every step he took.