Harry and the small group of friends he had weren't around with the other Gryffindors to celebrate Slytherin losing the match-he was at Hagrid's hut.
"It has to have been Snape, Hermione," argued Ron. "Who else hates Harry so much to kill him?"
Hermione shook her head, countering with "No, Ron-remember, even though Snape was showing all the signs of performing a concentration jinx-and wandless too, I might add, which is impressive-Professor Quirrell was showing just as many signs. Keep in mind that everyone knows Snape hates Harry-he's just too obvious a suspect to actually jinx it!"
Hagrid, John, Clara and Harry (who was wrapped in a blanket) were watching the debate with interest. Although Ron was mostly repeating some of his points, he had managed to develop quite a few of them. Hermione, unsurprisingly, was proving to be a master at debating. Her points were well-though, clear and concise, and she was wiping the floor with Ron.
Hagrid was originally concerned as to why they suspected two members of the faculty, but the argument between Ron and Hermione had managed to answer his question.
Five seconds after Hermione gave her most recent point, Ron put his hands in the air, saying "Alright! You win! We'll keep an eye on the both of them! But Snape was bitten by that three-headed monster in the Forbidden Corridor-"
"What d'you all know 'bout Fluffy?" asked Hagrid quickly. John sprayed his tea out in surprise, which was unfortunate for Ron as he received the full force of Hagrid's boiling hot tea, burning his ear and part of his face.
Clara's eyes widened as she remembered the monster in the third-floor corridor. 'He called that three-headed hell-hounded Fluffy, of all things?' was the thought going through her mind after Hagrid's question.
Ron exited, heading towards the Hospital Wing to take care of the red marks covering half his face. John looked worried. He'd apologise to the youngest Weasley boy later, but he knew well to keep an eye out in case Gred and Forge handed him payback. Considering that a good few of their pranks in the past few weeks had been his idea, he felt a bit more secure in knowing they wouldn't fully damage their new accomplice.
"That thing's called Fluffy?" asked Hermione incredulously, her brown eyes wide and staring at Hagrid. Hagrid nodded nonchalantly.
"Yeah, 'e's mine. I bought 'im from a Greek chappie las' year down at the pub. A few weeks ago, Dumbledore asked me if 'e could borrow 'im and use 'im to guard the-" He stopped quickly, having realised he'd told them too much.
"To guard the what, Hagrid?" asked Hermione, her curiosity piqued. Hagrid looked at her, at John, at Harry, at Clara, at Neville, and at the fireplace. An awkward silence filled the room.
"I've said too much, I 'ave. What Fluffy's guardin' is top secret. It's too dangerous fer you all to go an' snoop around findin' out what it is! Forget the dog, forget yer little conspiracy regardin' Snape an' Quirrell-this is private stuff between Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-"
"So there's someone else?" asked Neville. Hagrid groaned to himself.
As November drew on, John and Amy had convinced Neville to join them in the library, with Harry and Hermione (not that she entirely approved what they were doing) telling them what their homework was when they met up, and Binns still having yet to notice there were six First Years (John, Neville and Amy-Gryffindor, and Harold, Nott and Tracey Davis for Slytherin) skipping his classes-not that the other teachers cared, considering they too agreed that Binns needed to be gotten rid of (it was one of the only pieces of common ground between the four Houses, especially Gryffindor and Slytherin).
Additionally, Snape had changed his behaviour-actually teaching the students instead of DIY, though he was still showing some bias towards his House, giving them extra points. Many students had reason to believe this change in behaviour was because McGonagall and Dumbledore had finally decided to act and pressure him into being less bullying.
The weather was also becoming colder, and a larger portion of the students (usually the older ones and the ones who hated their families) had decided to stay over the winter holidays compared to last year.
One morning, towards the end of November, Clara's alarm went off at around twenty-one minutes past six. She rolled over tiredly to grab it and turn it off but for some reason, all she felt was something large and feathery. She then heard her alarm clock no more. Her tired mind being curious, she rolled over to see what it was that was on her bedside drawer.
It was Idris. Clara groaned unhappily. She'd gone up to the Owlery to post a letter to her Dad (John had given permission to use Idris) when the giant feathery creature had been as uncooperative as possible for an owl, leaving her with several scratches on her hand.
"What are you doing here?" she asked grouchily, while keeping her voice down enough to not wake up any of her dorm-mates, which was not the easiest task; Parvati and Lavender were very deep sleepers, Amy was always awake by ten past six, and Hermione alternated between using earmuffs and a headset which was connected to a Wireless on her bedside drawer that she always had tuned to BBC Radio 3. Nobody asked questions on how a Magical Wireless was able to pick up a Muggle radio station.
Idris did not respond. She simply continued staring at Clara. Clara wondered if she was going to become the owl's next meal.
'Nah,' she decided. 'I'm too big, even for her.'
It was at this moment as well, that Clara finally woke up enough to realise that Idris was standing up on something. Before, she had thought that the feathered beast had grown.
The something Idris had been standing on had also not been there last night.
Idris tried her best to tilt her head, and her eyes now had a look of 'Have you finally gotten it yet, twit?'
Clara caught the message and wondered malevolently what would happen if she flipped her enemy off. 'Me losing a finger', she concluded, wondering briefly what owls thought of the taste of human flesh.
Her mind-now 68.8% awake-focused back on the something Idris was standing on.
"Would you be so kind as to get off the thing you're standing on?" she asked politely.
The look she was receiving from the owl appeared to have the message 'Really?'
"Yes, really," Clara answered back through clenched teeth.
'Alright, though I don't see why he bothered with you,' Idris responded snarkily as she jumped off the thing and onto the desk. Clara did not catch her thought.
Clara reached for the thing slowly and carefully, just in case Idris decided to bite it off, grabbed hold of it, and quickly took it back.
It was a box wrapped in patterned wrapping paper, the kind usually bought in Muggle stationery stores.
For a brief moment, Clara wondered just why this was here with the feathered beast.
Then it clicked. She quickly turned to look at the calendar.
Today was the 23rd of November. Her birthday.
"Why did John do this?" she asked herself quietly before she went to turn and the light (miraculously avoiding being bitten by Idris) and starting to quietly unwrapping it.
On top of the present was a tall card. Picking it up slowly, she opened it to see what was inside.
'Happy 12th birthday, Clara Oswin Oswald,' it began.
'I hope you like this. I asked the Weasley Twins to get it down at Hogsmeade. I really hope you like it.
'The interesting thing is, my birthday's on the 23rd too!
'Well, enough rambling. Enjoy your birthday. Who knows what might happen.
'Signed, John'
Clara stared at it for a few seconds, smiling softly, whilst thinking rather amusing thoughts.
"He's right," she said to Idris, surprising herself at how she hadn't insulted the creature. "It is funny we have the same birthday."
Hello, followers and readers! After nearly a year of hiatus, I've finally posted a new chapter!
My excuse for the wait-writer's block.
It seems to be a common motif in my stories that I have Snape pressured from McGonagall into toning down his lovely relationship with the students. Maybe because it's always interesting to see a perfectionist with amazingly high standards having to cope with all the shit that goes on when teaching unruly teenagers in an unsafe area (Potions classroom), do their best to keep his/her cool on it, and let the pressure build up inside.
I give him two years.
I've been neglecting it everywhere, but I must remind you I do not own the rights to any of these characters. Does my style look like J.K. Rowling's?