I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER OR DRACULA! REVIEW!

LADY OF THE NIGHT: YEAR TWO:

CHAPTER THREE:

The next morning, Ron showed us the note Harry had left for him, and we headed down to the Quidditch Pitch to watch him practice. I was about to fall asleep when Harry and the rest of the team came onto the field. Ron stared down at them. "Haven't you finished?"

"Haven't even started. Wood's been teaching us new moves." We watched as he kicked off from the ground, followed by the rest of the time. I looked over to see Colin Creevey snapping photos endlessly. Ron nudged me, and I looked down to see the Slytherin team approaching. "Oh, great. This won't end well." We got up quickly from our seats and ran down to the field. "What's happening? And what's he doing here?" Ron glared at Malfoy, who smirked back. "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought for the team."

Ron stared in disbelief at the seven Nimbus Two Thousand and One's in front of us. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum will bid for them." The other Slytherins burst into laughter.

Hermione scoffed. "At least nobody on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Malfoy turned on her. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy Mudblood." An instant uproar started at his words. The Gryffindor teammates attempted to attack Draco, but Flint, Slytherin's team Captain, managed to hold them off. He, however, didn't account for Ron. "You'll pay for that, Malfoy!" Ron pointed his broken wand under Flint's arm, and a loud band issued from the wrong end of his wand, hitting Ron in the stomach and knocking him backwards onto the grass.

We ran over to Ron, bending over him. "Ron! Are you okay?" He opened his mouth, and about a half a dozen slugs came out of his mouth, falling onto the ground. The Slytherin team burst into laughter. We stood around him, unsure of what to do. "Let's get him to Hagrid's. He'll know what to do." Hermione and I nodded, pulling Ron up by the arms, leading him away, but not before Colin stopped in front of us. "What's happened, Harry? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Ron gagged, and more slugs came out of his mouth. "Cool! Can you hold him still, Harry?"

"Get out of the way, Colin!" We looked over at Ron as we neared Hagrid's. "Nearly there, Ron. Just a minute." We were about to start towards the door when it opened and Lockhart stepped out. Harry winced, hiding behind a large bush, followed quickly by me and Ron. Hermione came reluctantly after us.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing! If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book! I'm surprised you haven't already got one-I'll sign it and send it over. Goodbye!" We waited until he'd left, and knocked on Hagrid's door. He opened it, looking grumpy, but brightened up when he saw us. "Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me-come in-thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart again." Harry explained Ron's problem to Hagrid, and he pulled out a large basin, putting it down in front of Ron. "Well, better out than in. Get 'em all out, Ron."

Hermione sighed, watching Ron. "I don't suppose there's anything to do but wait for it to stop. That's a difficult to work at the best of times, and with a broken wand-" Hagrid began making tea, and Harry scratched Fang's ears. "What did Lockhart want, anyway?"

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well. Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it's true, I'll eat my kettle." We stared at him in shock. Hermione finally spoke, in a higher-pitched voice than usual, "I think you're being a little unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job-"

"He was the on'y man fer the job. An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me, who was Ron tryin' ter curse?" Harry frowned. "Malfoy called Hermione something. It must've been really bad, because everyone went crazy." I scowled, crossing my arms. "It was bad. He called her a Mudblood." Hagrid looked furious. "He didn'!"

"He did. But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course." Ron came up, sweating and looking pale. "It's about the most insulting thing he could come up with. Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who's Muggle-born, you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards-like Malfoy's family-who think they're better than other people because they're what everyone calls pure-blood." He burped, releasing a small slug into his hand. He threw it into the basin, wiped his mouth with his hand, and continued. "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference. Look at Neville-he's pure-blood and he can barely stand a cauldron the right way up."

"An' they haven' invented a spell our Hermione can't do." Hermione blushed. Ron nodded. "It's disgusting thing to call someone. Dirty blood. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles, we'd have died out." Ron gagged and bent over the basin again. Hagrid sighed. "Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron. Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble." I chuckled to myself. Trouble couldn't be worse than throwing up slugs, now, could it?

"Harry, I got a bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard yeh've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?" Harry unstuck his mouth from the treacle toffee Hagrid had given him that had cemented his teeth together. "I have not been giving out signed photos! If Lockhart's still spreading that around-" I grinned as Hagrid began laughing. "I'm on'y jokin'. I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

I laughed. "Bet he didn't like that."

"Don' think he did. An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle toffee, Ron?" Ron shook his head. "No, thanks." Hagrid smiled, getting up. "Come an' see what I've bin growin'." We stepped outside to the vegetable patch, where a dozen giant pumpkins were growing. "Gettin' on well, aren't they? Fer the Halloween feast. Should be big enough by then."

"What've you been feeding them?" I asked curiously. Hagrid looked around. "Well, I've bin givin' them-yeh know-a bit o' help-" Hermione glanced at the large pink umbrella propped up against one wall of his cabin. "An Engorgement Charm, I suppose? Well, you've done a good job on them." Hagrid beamed at this. "That's what yer little sister said," Hagrid said, looking over at Ron. "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." He winked. "Bet she wouldn' say no ter a signed-"

"Oh, shut up." Ron snorted with laughter, and several slugs fell onto the ground. "Watch it!" Hagrid pulled Ron away from his pumpkins.

Around lunchtime, we bid Hagrid goodbye, and headed back up to the castle to eat. We'd barely set foot in the Entrance Hall, when McGonagall's voice called out, "There you are, Potter-Weasley. You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What are we doing, Professor?" McGonagall looked over at Ron. "You will be polishing the silver in the Trophy Room with Mr. Filch. And no magic, Weasley-elbow grease." Ron gulped, and I sighed, shaking my head sympathetically. "And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

"Professor McGonagall, couldn't I do the Trophy Room, too?" McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "Certainly not. Professor Lockhart requested you specifically. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

Ron groaned, pushing his food around with his fork. "Filch'll have me there all night. No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap anytime. I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys." He made a face. "Answering Lockhart's fan mail...He'll be a nightmare..."

I waited up in the Common Room for Harry and Ron to come back. Harry returned first, eyes wide. "Did you hear that voice?"

"What voice?"

"That voice, just now! I heard it in Lockhart's office, but he said he didn't hear it!" Ron came back then, and Harry told him what he'd heard as well, and Lockhart saying that he hadn't heard anything. Ron frowned. "Do you think he was lying?" I bit my lip. "But-even someone invisible would have had to open the door..." Harry nodded. "I know. I don't get it either."