Sorry this chapter took so long. Anyway, Woohoo! School's out for me. Okay, now you find out what happens to Harry, who the new member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team is, the prefects start planning for the Christmas Ball, and read an unexpected announcement in 'The Daily Prophet' (not in that order). Please review or flame. You may find this a bit boring but it's just a build up to the ball next time.
Disclaimer: It is under FAN FICTION. As in fiction, written by a fan. You can't be a fan if you are the owner (unless you are extremely big headed). So I am NOT the rightful author. Got that? Good. As I was saying, I own only the two new teachers, the spells you haven't heard of and the plot.
Another thing, I've decided to recommend other books for people who re-read the Harry Potter books over and over again. Firstly, my favourite book of all time, Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer! It may be a bit short but it is an 11/10 book easily. It kicks ass!
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Without thinking, Harry whipped out his wand and pointed at the spell heading straight for his face.
"Finite Incantum!" To his total amazement, once the two spells collided, they both disappeared in a puff of blue (hey, it's my favourite colour, okay?) smoke. Professor Anderson started clapping.
"Well done!" she said, beaming. "Some of the simpler spells can be stopped by ending it before it even makes contact. Other more complicated spells require both duellers to speak the chosen spell at the same time. There are also certain spells one can cast on oneself (sorry that sounded posh, but it didn't sound right any other way) to deflect the spells off them. For your homework, you are to do research on these spells. Oh, and 5 points to Gryffindor. Class dismissed."
As everyone grabbed their bags and rushed out, the professor called back the trio (I'm not sure if I can call them that, as Ron still isn't speaking to the other two).
"Albus told me to give you three some private tutorial, seeing as you're always getting into trouble and you'll probably need it with the return of the dark lord and all that. Is 7:00 on Saturday good?"
"Uh, yeah, okay."
"Great! See you next lesson."
"By the way, what would the spell have done if it hit me?"
She grinned wickedly. "You would have kept hearing voices and hallucinating. Nothing big."
Harry's jaw dropped. 'That's a SIMPLE spell? Then I'd hate to see a complex one!'
Next on their timetable was History of Magic. As they sat down, a middle aged man walked in. He had blonde hair, pale skin and white robes (no, it ISN'T Lucius Malfoy).
"I am your new History of Magic teacher, Daniel S Pierce. Professor Binns retired last year to haunt some old school of his in Wales so I will be taking over. Today we will see how phoenixes have played an important part of the defeat of dark wizards, especially Dumbledore's one, Fawkes, which helped immensely during the war against Grindelwald. The reason you don't have any books are because you will not need them. I will be using a projection spell to show you. Turn around and face the back wall."
The whole class did so and Professor Pierce pointed his wand at it. Instantly, it was a scene of chaos. Spells where flying thick and fast, the occasional Avada Kedrava taking someone down. Dumbledore was down on the ground bleeding (at this, several pupils gasped) and his wand was in the hand of another wizard, who was standing over him. "Well Albus, sorry it had to turn out like this, but it's your own fault for opposing me. Good bye. Avada Ked…What the hell?"
A red-golden plumed bird had just flown right at him. At the last moment, it swerved towards his hand, knocking both wands away. Albus grabbed them. "Stupefy!" Grindelwald crumpled to the ground in a paralysed heap. Fawkes landed on his owner's shoulder and began to cry. As soon as the tears made contact with any wounds, they disappeared. Albus stood up and fired something into the air. It was the yin-yang symbol, with black underneath, the symbol of good triumphing. It was sacred, once the leader of a force was defeated; they all had to surrender. The projection then ended. 'Damn,' thought Harry. 'Wish I had had some popcorn.' (You may think that was cold, but he already knew the out come. It's not as if Dumbledore is dead is it?)
"I hope you were all watching carefully, as I for homework, you are to write a five feet long essay based on this event. There are several books in the library to do with this, so I suggest you borrow them. Class dismissed." Everyone rose and headed for the Great Hall for lunch.
Hermione kept glancing upwards all through the meal. "I'm waiting for my Daily Prophet subscription," she explained. Finally, an owl appeared. Hermione skimmed the front page. "Yes!" she exclaimed, handing it to Harry.
Ace Reporter Resigns!
Rita Skeeter, special correspondent, has announced that she will no longer be writing articles for any newspaper or magazine. No one knows the reason for this, but one thing is for sure: The Prophet will never be the same again!
"Herm, I have a feeling you've got something to do with this. Did you threaten the beetle lady?"
"She deserved it! Spying on me and you…"
"And Vicky," inserted Ron, his old malice back.
Harry was saved from this argument because he just remembered something Fred and George told him to do (he was appointed captain by a unanimous vote). He stood up and said,
"Hey! If anyone from the second year upwards wants to try out for the position of Gryffindor Keeper, sign your names on the form over the fire place in the common room and come down to the practice pitch at 7 tonight!"
Just then, McGonagall called out: "Prefects, meet in my office after lunch to discuss what we should do for the Christmas ball."
Ron, Harry, and Hermione rose and walked over.
After a long and quite frankly, *boring* meeting, they decided to do pretty much the same thing as last year's Yule Ball. There was to be a Hogsmeade weekend on the week before for people to buy new dress robes and the like. Harry trudged up to the common room, sat down on the puffy armchair and had soon dozed off.
Harry glanced at his watch. 6:55! He grabbed the sheet, went to the boy's dorms, grabbed his Firebolt (why doesn't he keep it in the broom shed?) and flew out the window. As he landed, he saw a crowd of people walking towards him. 'Shit!' he thought. 'This might take a while!'
He handed a spare broom to the person first in line, next to their name on the list, noted how many out of the 10 shots attempted they saved.
After an hour, Harry was finally nearing the end. He had had to switch Angelina with Katie Bell, as she was starting to get tired. So far, the best had been little Dennis Creevey (yes, Dennis, not Colin) with 7 saves. He had reached the last person in the line. It was Ron. Handing him the broom, he zoomed up to the post. Katie, Quaffle under arm, bolted along, swerved and threw it at the hoop farthest from Ron. Somehow, he managed to get behind it. That happened every time. Just when you thought it was in, Ron appeared out of no where to block. Not one got past him. As he came down, Harry congratulated him, though somewhat stiffly. He then called:
"Thanks for trying out. The new Gryffindor Keeper is Ron Weasley and the reserve is Dennis Creevey."
Once everyone but the two new members had vacated, Harry rubbed his hands together.
"Right, let's get down to business."
Harry, believed in the opinion of everyone on the team. He asked what they thought of his basic strategy, then modified it to their approval. He didn't draw squiggly lines/arrows all over, but described the techniques in word. There was a bit of a problem with Dennis, as he was not quite as knowledgeable in the sport as the others were, but that was sorted when Ron showed him.
Finally, practice was over. The next time, they would try them out. They put the brooms away then headed straight to their dorms. Harry felt as though nothing could spoil his good mood. Then he remembered that he still had two girls to take to one ball. 'Talk about how to kill a good mood!' He drifted off into an uneasy sleep that was haunted by a nightmare. He dreamt he was at the ball and everybody was laughing at him. He looked down and saw he was only in his teddy bear boxers. Just then, both Cho and Hermione came up to him from different sides.
"Dance with me Harry!"
"No, dance with me!"
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Excuse me…" Harry started.
"You keep out of this!" they yelled at him.
They both kept pulling in opposite directions. He could fell his arms straining. Any second they were going to pop. He closed his eyes, bracing himself...
And woke up in a cold sweat in his bed. 'Voldemort don't got crap on those two. I suppose it's true what they say: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!'
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I love that quote! Next chapter is "A traditional fairy tale ending…Not!" It's all about the ball. I'll be back! Ciao!