Hello! Thank you for gracing me with your time and patience, everyone.
Now, for what about two people have been waiting for. . . the third
chapter for Harry Potter and the Scholar of Mystery. But first, a friendly
little disclaimer.
Disclaimer: According to Scholastic Inc. Books, I am not the rightful owner of Harry Potter and his ilk. However, I'm more than happy to lend a hand in their next literary efforts. After all, I have a lot of good ideas! So come on, J.K., give this guy a chance! I need to find an easier way to pay for my rent than washing dishes and cooking! Anyway, enough of my misguided anger.
1 Chapter 3- Strange Connections
"Just who is this person that we're going to eat with today?" Hermione hissed as they made their way to the Dining Hall. "I hope he's not some kind of troublemaker!"
"You're not Harry's mum, Herm," Ron said with a mixture of sarcasm and exasperation. Harry, who was unfortunate enough to be standing between the two quarreling young magicians, gave a patient sigh and rubbed his tired eyes.
"Did you even watch the first task, Ron? Someone is clearly after Harry! We can't just give all our secrets away to a complete stranger! You should know better, Harry!"
"Sorry, Hermione." Harry said sheepishly. Now it was Hermione's turn to sigh quietly. Moments after Harry's quiet apology, Hermione shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and smiled.
"Forget it, Harry. We'll just cross this bridge when we come to it. You have to promise me though that you two are going to help me with the House Elf Liberation Front tonight however."
"Oh, man!" Ron shouted in frustration. Harry just chuckled quietly. Ron was well known for being very content with the house elves' condition and was probably the last person who wanted the house elves to stop working at Hogwarts (particularly after indulging in the house elves' cooking talents time and time again). However, Hermione's determination was something that was almost insurmountable for anyone, even someone as stubborn as Ron, to overcome.
"Fine, fine!" Ron said, quickly agreeing with Hermione's request. 'How come I'm always put through these kinds of things!' he thought sourly.
Before the three friends had any more time to debate, they had arrived at the Hogwarts Dining Hall. If you wanted a single image that could be associated with the overall goings-on at the school, a picture of the Hogwarts Dining Room at the start of breakfast was probably the finest example. The huge room was bustling with excited and hungry young witches and wizards, hastily working their way to their seats to get the best pickings. The air was filled with the rich scents and sounds of pancake batter, fresh bacon, and snippets of dozens of different conversations going on at the same time. Many of the young men were clustered around the Ravenclaw table, where many of the exotic veela witches of Beauxbeatons Academy were eating quietly, trying, in vain, to avoid the hormone-charged youth. Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, students from the Durmstrang Institute ate with a nearly savage intensity, as if eating their breakfast was a mission that it was imperative for them to succeed. The Triwizard Tournament had brought along representatives from other European magical schools and their presence here only intensified the cheery chaos.
"Hurry, you two," Hermione chirped urgently, "let's get to our seats! Herbology is going to start in 35 minutes!"
"Yes, Hermione," Ron and Harry said simultaneously, earning a sharp glare from their bushy-haired friend. The three friends hustled to their usual seats and quickly arranged their breakfasts. Ron was particularly eager in this task, using his fork to spear generous helpings of sausage, eggs, and bacon before placing them on his plate.
"So, where is this new friend of yours?" Ron asked, his mouth already stuffed with bacon. Harry, who was still searching for Matt, hadn't touched his food yet. After all, he said he was going to make a big entrance and, after last night's meeting, he was hardly going to miss it. While Harry couldn't find the Ravenclaw prankster, Hermione's brown eyes locked in on a certain brown-haired boy walking slowly towards the Slytherin table. It took a while for her to determine the exact destination for the boy's travels: the seats of Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle, Harry's archenemies. As the three Slytherins marveled over Draco's new racing broom that his father had bought him the boy crept over towards the trio's drinks and evenly poured the contents of a small potion into each of their goblets. After the deed was done, the brown-haired boy was sporting a huge grin on his face and calmly walked away from his work.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" Hermione ripped her eyes away from the three boorish Slytherins and gazed into Harry's emerald-green eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine. I just thought I saw something really weird."
"You'll have to be more specific," Ron said quietly, "something you think is weird is probably pretty bleedin' normal to us." Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ron, who quickly returned the gesture, and the three turned back to their breakfast. Several minutes later, however, Harry, Ron, and Hermione heard a sound that was quite, pardon the pun, unheard of in the dining hall.
Oinking.
It took a while for Harry and Hermione to identify the source of it, but Ron found it immediately and was nearly exploding with laughter along with over half of the Hogwarts student body.
Where there was once Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe there now stood three pinkish-white pigs. Startled by the tremendous amount of noise in the Great Hall, the three newly transformed Slytherins quickly panicked and started running about the busy dining hall, almost running over several shocked students. Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and professor of Transfiguration, soon quickly gave chase in an attempt to cure the three, which only made the increased the laughter in the dining hall. Even their fellow Slytherins, who were notorious of standing by one another, were shaking with laughter at the bizarre scene. However, nobody in the dining hall was laughing harder than Ron Weasley, whose family held a long-standing hatred with the Malfoy family that has spanned for generations.
"Do you like my entrance, Harry?" a voice asked from behind the three Gryffindors
Both Harry and Hermione quickly stifled their laughter and whirled around to find the source of the calm voice.
"Matt? You did this?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Consider it a house-warming gift, night walker!" Matt MacDougal said as he heartily slapped Harry on his shoulders. By now, Ron had somehow managed to stop his own waves of laughter and turned to look at the new person at the table.
"It's one of the potions I've been working on," Matt said with the same wry grin on his face. "I've heard of some of the run-ins you guys have had with those Slytherins and I'm not a big fan of them myself. So, I decided to kill two birds with one stone by using them as test subjects for my new transfiguration potion. And Professor Snape says that transfiguration and potions don't mix!"
While Harry and Ron both laughed heartily at this, Hermione's all-too- familiar cross look came over her face. Although she was amused with the boy's "piggy prank," she wasn't about to let him know it.
"I trust you are the 'friend' that Harry had met yesterday," Hermione said flatly.
"Matt MacDougal's my name," he said while extending his hand in a jovial fashion.
"Ron Weasley," Ron said merrily clasping Matt's hands with his own. "Let me just say that trick was just fantastic!" Harry almost laughed at Ron's cheeriness and enthusiasm.
"Sit down, Matt," Harry said while pushing the seat next to him open. "This is Hermione Granger," he said, pointing to the bushy-haired fourth- year student.
"Granger?" Matt said slowly as he lowered himself down in the chair, "as in the Granger that founded the House-Elf Liberation Front?" At that question, Hermione's interest in the boy picked up significantly.
"Yes!" Hermione said excitedly. "Would you like to join?"
"No, thanks," Matt said simply, "I just wanted a face to match with all the ludicrous ideas I read in that pamphlet of yours." At that comment, Ron nearly spit out his scrambled eggs and Harry's silverware dropped on his plate with a horrible clang!. Hermione's auburn-brown eyes narrowed into slits and gave Matt a dreadful scowl. Despite his bravery, even Matthew was forced to take a step back from the angry Gryffindor.
"And just what is your stance on the rights of house elves, Mr. MacDougal?" Hermione asked coldly, her eyes never leaving the Ravenclaw student for the slightest moment.
"Well, um," Matt stammered, the self-confidence he had gained from his clever prank now blown to the fore-winds, "I just think that, um".
"Go on," Hermione asked, her hostile tone nearly freezing Matt to the bone.
"It's just that I don't agree with your idea of 'freedom' for the house-elves," Matt said slowly. Ron and Harry had not moved from their spots, looking at Hermione to see how she would respond. Much to their shock, Hermione's hard scowl had faded away into a countenance of thoughtful determination.
"What is wrong with allowing house-elves their freedom from the slavery we've put them under?" That question left the three boys silent for a moment. Then, much to the amazement of Matt, Harry, and Ron, Harry spoke up.
"I think he's saying that, um, just giving house-elves their personal freedom in an instant would do more harm than good."
"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione asked, her eyes alight with interest. "For hundreds of years these creatures have been socially conditioned that servitude is the highest form of life they can accomplish. You know as well as I do that we are responsible for the condition of the house-elves and I feel that we must do something to stop it."
"Social whatta? What does shampoo have to do with house-elves?" Ron asked, completely befuddled by the debate. However, the other three students at the table ignored Ron's confusion. Seeing that he wasn't the point of attention, Ron quickly snatched Hermione's unused knife and used it to spread some strawberry preserved on his toast.
"That's exactly the point!" Matt shouted. "Hundreds of years of being told that something was good for them is not going to be undone by jus telling them that it's wrong. If you want to free the house-elves, you have to show them that there are alternatives to their current lifestyles. Whether they think it's preferable or not must be a decision made up to them, not to you."
"I agree," Harry said with determination. "After all, even some of the African slaves who were freed by government legislation remained on the land of the people who enslaved them."
"But that's because they had nowhere else to go!" Hermione said, her left fist slamming down upon the table, causing her glass of orange juice to spill onto the table. Ron moved quickly to move the spilt juice from anybody's food.
'All this hard work shouldn't just go to waste,' Ron thought.
"Then you can show the house-elves that they do have a place to go." Matt said, grabbing a spare knife from the Gryffindor breakfast table and snagging a piece of toast.
"But what about Dobby?" Hermione asked.
"Who?" Matt asked, completely thrown.
"One of Lucius Malfoy's former house-elves," Ron said, happy to finally contribute something intelligent to the conversation.
"He's currently working as a paid employee in the Hogwarts kitchens," Harry finished.
"Okay. And how is this elf treated by the other elves?" Matt asked Hermione.
"Well," she began, very slow to tell the truth, "The other elves look down on him."
"Exactly," Matt said while pointing the butter knife at Hermione, "you have to understand that the elves that do change because of what you do are going to make a huge sacrifice."
"But Dobby is happy!" Hermione said with exasperation.
"But that doesn't guarantee that other house-elves will be!" Everything was quiet for a moment at the brief part of the Gryffindor table. Then, Hermione picked up the now empty cup of orange juice off of the table and stared into it. Harry and Matt looked at one another, both with the same guilty look.
"But," Matt stammered, desperately trying to cheer her up, "it's a noble cause."
"Yes, it's very noble," Harry said quickly. "I'm really proud that you're working so hard on something you believe in. It's really endearing." At that compliment, Hermione gave a short blush that she hoped that no one noticed.
"Do you really think so, Harry?" Hermione asked, a tender smile creeping up on her face.
"Um, well, of course!" Now it was Harry's turn to give a slight blush, a blush that was not ignored by either Matt or Ron. Matt turned to Ron, raising his eyebrow in interest. Ron, in response, gave a short nod that told Matt that he'd tell him about it later.
"You know," Ron said as he used his napkin to wipe some of Hermione's orange juice from his Herbology book, "my mum once read me a story about an elf castle way below the earth."
"Oh yeah!" Matt piped up, turning back to face Ron, "my gran told me that story too! There was an elf king and they fought giants and everything!"
"Maybe you can read it to them in the kitchens, Herm." Harry said, bopping Hermione in the shoulder with his fist. "Maybe it'll inspire 'em, you never know!"
"Maybe," she said with a sardonic grin. "But despite what you two think," she said while pointing two short fingers at Harry and Matt, "I'll do anything to help the house-elves see the truth." Matt and Harry, both deciding that further argument was futile, both sighed in defeat.
"Don't worry about it," Ron said, slapping Matt firmly around the shoulders. "She seems like a pain in the arse now, but get to know her and you'll see she's even worse."
"Oh shut it you stupid git," Hermione whispered good-naturedly, causing Matt and Harry to laugh. Ron, in response, simply took another big swig of pumpkin juice before turning sideways to face Matt.
"Well," Ron said with a smile, "now that we got that silly talk out of the way, let's talk about more important things!"
"And what do you consider to be more important than personal freedom?" Hermione snorted.
"What Matt's favorite Quidditch team is. Are you a fan of the Cannons, Matt?" Groaning in frustration, Hermione abruptly slouched down and placed her head on top of her Herbology book, her hair seemingly covering the entire cover. Harry had to laugh. Ron was a huge fan of the wizard sport and, on many occasions, it seemed to be the only thing he ever wanted to talk about. Although Ron's favorite team, the Chudley Cannons, had not won a pennant in over two decades, Ron cheered them on to an almost insane degree. It was that enthusiasm that truly attracted Harry to him. Matt, on the other hand, seemed to shy away from Ron's inquisition.
"Well, I really don't. . ."
"Don't tell me you're a fan of the Dublin Dodgers?!" Ron said with exasperation. "I don't think I could stand running into another one of their fans. Bloody egotistical bastards!"
"You're just mad at them because they beat the Cannons every time they play them," Harry said simply.
"Shaddap, Harry!" Ron shouted before turning back to Matt, who seemed to want to scamper away from the table. "Well, Matt, what about it?" Matt continued to squirm underneath Ron's anxious look.
"Well, Ron, Idon'tfollowquidditch." Matt mumbled harshly. Harry raised his eyebrows in shock while Hermione looked up from her book. Ron, however, was a little slow to respond.
"What did you say?" Ron said, his tone of voice mixed with shock, confusion, and a hint of suspicion. Wilting under Ron's voice, Matt gave a deep sigh and slumped his shoulders before responding.
"I just don't really like Quidditch, Ron." Matt said with a shrug. "I just think that wizards could do a whole lot more with their abilities then fly around chasing a bunch of dumb balls with silly names. It's a waste of perfectly good time and energy."
Ron's mouth was open so wide that he could have fit a jam jar in it.
"You're a wizard?" Ron asked slowly.
"Last time I checked," Matt responded.
"And you don't like Quidditch?" Ron asked, his tone disbelieving.
"Nope." Ron took quite a bit of time to respond to Matt's simple answer.
"Is that even possible?"
"Quit gawking, Ron!" Hermione snapped, hurtling Matt and Ron out of their bizarre conversation. "If Matt doesn't like Quidditch, then he doesn't like it. Don't look at him like he's some kind of alien!" Ron's ears quickly turned pink with that and abruptly returned to his food.
"You know, Matt," Harry said with a smile. "I'm the seeker on the Gryffindor House team. Maybe I can change your mind on Quidditch." With that, Matt immediately perked up.
"Perhaps I could," Matt said with a smile. "And maybe I could show you how to make these cool potions I've been working on!"
"Well," Hermione chirped brightly, "then it looks like we have a compromise!" Hermione took a brief glance at her watch. "Speaking of compromises, how about we settle our debates later. Herbology starts in five minutes, guys."
"Better get going then," Harry said while wolfing down the last of his scrambled eggs. "We'll see you later, Matt!"
"Okay, Harry." Matt said, taking a brief look at his now cold breakfast. Harry, Hermione, and Matt all quickly stood up and gathered their belongings. Ron, still in shock over Matt's confession, was still rooted to his chair.
"He doesn't like Quidditch." Ron said slowly.
"Yes, Ron. We know that." Hermione said while grabbing a fistful of Ron's robe and dragging the redhead along. "Nice to meet you, Matt!" she said while waving cheerfully to him. While Matt rushed towards Arithmancy, he had one word on the tip of his tongue as he thought about the three Gryffindors that he just met.
"Cool."
It was a typical day in class for Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger. In Herbology, Professor Sprout had a collection of gigantic Venus Fly-Traps on display as she taught the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs on how to shear them properly. Harry, who had acquired a bit of bad luck when it came to Herbology over the last few weeks, nearly had his hand bit off by one of the more anxious plants. Fortunately, Ron was able to warn him in time. In Care of Magical Creatures, the three Gryffindors were not pleased to find out that they were going to get to know their "pets" a little better. Unfortunately, their pets were blast- ended skrewts, vicious creatures with horrible poisonous spikes, tubes that could suck blood, and the ability to "blast off," which could set some unfortunate student on fire. Then, as Hermione went to Professor Vector's Arithmancy class, Ron and Harry went high up into the North Tower for their Divination class, where Professor Trelawney continued to prophesize a series of unfortunate fates for Harry long after Ron had fallen asleep.
"How come that old bat never prophesizes my death?" Ron asked Harry as they descended down the Astronomy tower on their way to the Gryffindor common room. "At least I would have some reason to be there then. It's no good for you to have all the fun."
"Can't help you there, Ron," Harry said with a smile, brushing back some of his wild black hair from his forehead. "I guess I just have all the luck."
"Look on the bright side, Harry. We don't have any homework in Herbology tonight. Maybe we can convince Hermione to come down to Hagrid's with us."
"You're not looking for another meeting with those skrewts are you?"
"Good God!" Ron said, rolling his eyes. "I don't think I can stand another day with those monsters. If I didn't like Hagrid so much I would have killed that blasted skrewt the first day I saw it!" Although Harry did not fully agree with Ron's opinion toward the blast-ended skrewts, he didn't disagree either. Hagrid had a well-known love for taking care of dangerous creatures, the more lethal the better. Back in Harry's first year, Hagrid had somehow managed to purchase a dragon egg, which Hagrid had fully intended to hatch and raise at the cost of his job and possible freedom until they had talked him out of it. By the time Hagrid had allowed the dragon to leave, "Baby Norbert" was almost big enough to burn down Hagrid's house. However, Hagrid didn't care about that then and he just thought the skrewts were the cutest creatures he ever met now.
'Guess we all have our little quirks,' Harry thought with a grin.
It took quite an effort on Ron's part to convince Hermione to venture out to Hagrid's cabin. She had begun to prepare a History of Magic essay that wasn't due for two months. Only a tremendous display of stubborn determination on Ron's part could persuade the Gryffindor bookworm to drop her quill and join them in having a little fun.
"If only to keep you two out of trouble," Hermione said in her defense.
Moments later, the three friends were tromping their way through the grassy knoll that led to Hagrid's cabin. They spotted the grounds keeper well before they reached the hut. Indeed, with Hagrid standing well over 8 feet tall, he was very difficult not to spot. He had his back to the three, seeming to look at one of the larger skrewts, which looked as though it was preparing to set fire to Hagrid's pumpkin patch.
"Oi, Hagrid!" Ron shouted as the three drew closer. Hagrid swiveled around abruptly, his beetle-black eyes seeming to lock on to Harry's. Even Hagrid's enormous beard could not hope to cover up the gameskeepers' smile.
"'ello you three!" Hagrid roared happily. "Didn't 'spect to see you here. Jus' watchin' one of my babies," referring to the skrewt in the pumpkin patch. It had now taken to using its' spikes to punch holes into some of the bigger pumpkins.
"Ain't it beautiful?" Hagrid said, his eyes nearly brimming with tears.
"Yes. . ." Hermione said, very careful to hide her sarcasm. "It's lovely." Ron and Harry could barely stifle their laughter.
"Ah," Hagrid said, his huge grin still beaming. "There's someone I'd like ya to meet." Hagrid cupped his huge hands around his mouth so as not to hurt the children's ears. "Matt! Come on over!" Then, turning back to the Gryffindors, he whispered, "Matt's one of me best students."
Ron, Hermione, and Harry all exchanged looks. Shortly after Hagrid's shout, a familiar young man had appeared over a hill, his brown hair fluttering in the harsh winds. He was trailed by one of the larger skrewts, who seemed to be making efforts to follow the young man diligently. Hagrid seemed to shine as he and the Gryffindors watched the skrewt follow Matt around as if it were a trained puppy. Because of the sunset, it took a while for Matt to spot Harry and the others. When he did, however, he smiled brightly and ran over to see them.
"Hi, guys!" Matt said, the skrewt rushing to catch up with him. "I was taking Ginger out for a walk. I didn't expect to see you guys here!"
"Ginger?!" Harry asked, bewildered.
"My skrewt," Matt responded simply, as though having a blast-ended skrewt for a pet seemed like a completely logical thing to do. "You want to pet it? She's real friendly!"
"I'd rather not," Ron responded while leaping several feet away from Matt and "Ginger". Harry and Hermione, however, had somehow summed up the courage to step up and try. However, well before either of their hands reached the skrewt they were greeted with a harsh growl that they had heard far too often from the other skrewts. Matt just chuckled.
"You have to know where they like to be touched," Matt said simply as his left hand grazed a small spot between some of the skrewt's spikes. Ginger's angry demeanor had quickly diminished as it started rubbing its head against Matt's pant leg. Harry and Hermione had quickly followed Matt's lead and, within seconds, Ginger seemed to be enjoying herself immensely.
"I've always had a knack with animals," Matt said, the same simple tone still resonating in his voice. "It's been that way ever since I was young."
"Is this the same way you found out about Mrs. Norris?" Harry asked.
"You got it, Harry. You just have to know what you're getting yourself into before you do it."
"You should 'ave seen the way he handled the hippogriffs last year!" Hagrid gushed, wrapping a mammoth hand around Matt's shoulders. "By the first day he was flying with those things around Hogwarts. Never seen anythin' like it." Matt was blushing profusely at this point.
"It wasn't that much," Matt, said, trying desperately to maintain some humility, "I think it really wanted to toss me into the lake and I was too scared to fall off." Hermione and Harry both laughed at that. Ron, meanwhile, had managed to inch a bit closer to the skrewt but didn't seem prepared to move any further. After all, he wasn't a fool.
"So," Hagrid went on, "what brings you three to me hut today?"
"We just wanted to drop by and say hello," Hermione answered while still petting Ginger.
"Oh, an' by the way, 'Arry." Hagrid said cheerily. "Congratulations on the first task. You sure showed that Horntail. Did you see 'Arry flyin' out there, Matt?"
"Hagrid," Matt said with patient exasperation, "I was taking care of the skrewts, remember?" Hagrid made a little effort to recollect before responding.
"Ah, yeah!" Hagrid said, finally remembering. "You shoulda' been there, Matt. 'Twas amazing it was. 'Arry's a great flier, just like his dad."
"Thanks, Hagrid." Harry said. It was his turn to blush again. Hagrid was about to invite the four students in for some treacle tarts until Ron spotted another figure coming towards the hut. A figure that caused Ron, Harry, and Hermione to scowl in anger and mistrust.
For there, in front of Hagrid, stood Daily Prophet investigative reporter Rita Skeeter. Her ever-present Quick Quotes quill was poking out of her kitschy crocodile-skin handbag. Her magenta robes clashed with the fading sunset in such a horrible fashion that it made Matt want to cross his eyes. Matt knew very little about Rita Skeeter, aside from her reputation of causing trouble with nasty rumors in her column, but he had immediately gained a scowl similar to Harry's.
"'Lo there, milady. Can I help you in any fashion?"
Hagrid, 'bless his heart', Matt thought, was oblivious to it. The titanic groundskeeper was just happy to meet a new face.
"Ah, Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, is it?" Rita asked, her voice very terse. "What a pleasant afternoon. I came by to see if I could interview you about your relationship with Harry Potter." Harry's look of anger quickly changed to confusion. It was as if . .
"She doesn't know you're here Harry!" Hermione whispered. It was quite true. "Ginger's" flank had effectively blocked Harry from Rita's roving eyes. "Stay hidden," she hissed to Harry and Ron, "I want to see what she does." By the time Harry and Ron had turned back to Rita and Hagrid, Rita had already started questioning the amiable Care of Magical Creatures teacher.
"How long have you known Harry Potter, Mr. Hagrid?"
"Jus' call me Hagrid, ma'am," he said with a smile, "an' I've known 'Arry ever since he was a little tyke. I was the one who took 'im to his Muggle relatives when, well, ya' know."
"Yes," Rita said, treating Hagrid's painful memory as if it were just another part of her story.
"I was also the one who picked 'im up when he was to go to Hogwarts," Hagrid said with his chest puffed up with pride.
"So you've been acquainted with Harry for the three years he's been to Hogwarts?" Rita asked flatly. "Tell me, how would you describe his behavior around his professors. Does he cause as much trouble as I've heard?" Harry rolled his eyes at the ridiculous question while Hermione and Ron both scrunched up their faces in anger.
"Well, I can't say fer the other professors, but I've never had to tell him off in four years."
"He never played you up in lessons, has he?" Rita asked, her voice now tainted with irritation.
"Not once," Hagrid said with a questioning frown. "'Scuse me, Mrs. Skeeter, I don't mean to offend ya' but it seems like you're wantin' me to say Harry was horrible."
"I'd be inclined to agree, Professor." Matt said, rising up from his hiding spot while trying desperately to hold in his anger. He knew that he had just met Harry, but he wasn't about to have anyone talk bad about him while he was around. And he certainly wasn't going to let this little mole pressure Hagrid any longer.
Not to mention. . . he just had the most wicked idea.
Rita was visibly perturbed by the student's appearance, but the seemingly innocent smile on the Ravenclaw's face seemed to disarm her a bit. "And who might you be, young man?"
"My name's Matt MacDougal," he said sweetly. "I'm in my fourth year just like Harry." Rita's interests visibly perked up after hearing Harry's name.
"Oh!" Rita exclaimed while taking some time to readjust her writing pad onto her horribly manicured hands. "And how well do you know Harry, Mr. MacDougal?"
"Well, Mrs. Skeeter, to be honest, I was wondering if you'd like to see some of the animals that we've been taking care of in Hagrid's class. You know, since you're interviewing him and all."
"I'd like that very much," Rita said with a smile, fully expecting that this idiotic boy would show her some flobberworms and maybe a hinkypink before leaving her so she could continue her business. As he promised, Matt soon introduced Rita to one of Hagrid's magical creatures. The one that was still trashing Hagrid's pumpkin patch, to be precise.
"This is a blast-ended skrewt," Matt said, somehow still maintaining his harmless tone. While Rita stared at the horrific monster, Matt slowly made his way to one of Hagrid's feeding bins and pulled out a recently plucked and decapitated chicken. The skrewt took an immediate interest to the delicacy, so much so that Matt was amazed that it didn't rush after him already.
"Why don't you sit by his flank, Mrs. Skeeter?" Matt asked, praying that Mrs. Skeeter's knowledge of blast-ended skrewts was as little as he expected. As if to answer his silent question, Rita had circled around the creature so that its' back was turned to her. After making a short prayer, Matt decided to put his plan into action.
"Fetch boy!" Matt shouted, throwing the chicken carcass across the pumpkin patch. The skrewt, now seeing that its pathway to food was clear, chose to get to it the fastest way possible.
"EEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKK!!!!" Rita screeched as her magenta robes and Quick Quotes quill was set ablaze by the skrewt's "blasting off." Hagrid had hastily grabbed a bucket of water to throw on Rita while Hermione and Harry's eyes were wide open in shock. Ron, on the other hand, was rolling on the forest floor with laughter, his ears turning pink from the lack of oxygen. After a few tense moments, the flames had been extinguished and Hagrid began to profusely apologize to Rita.
"That will be all, Mr. Hagrid," Rita said, her dark eyes staring directly into Matt's intense scowl. Rita, to her credit, returned the gaze with equal ferocity. Without another word, Rita quickly stalked away from Hagrid's hut, muttering something about "dirty little heathens." By the time Rita had gone over the hill that led back to Hogwarts, Matt had turned back to Hagrid with a very apologetic look on his face.
"Sorry I can't stay for the treacle tarts, Hagrid," Matt said, the tone of his voice still traced with anger, "but I think I've lost my appetite." Harry and Hermione were still too shocked to say anything while Ron was still trying to regain some oxygen. And, without another word, Matt was stalking back to Hogwarts.
The sun had long since been set before Ron, Harry, and Hermione heard from Matt again that day. They had settled down for a night of relaxation in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione had spent the last hour pouring over a book about the life of Elfric the Eager while Ron and Harry had busied themselves with several lop-sided games of wizard chess. Try as Harry might, he could never quite catch up to Ron when it came to chess.
"Come on, Hermione!" Ron said impatiently while one of his bishops drug an enemy pawn off the board. "Get your nose out of that book. That dumb goblin can't be that interesting!"
"I don't know, Ron, some of those goblin rebellions are pretty grisly."
Hermione nearly jumped out of her seat in shock after hearing the seemingly disembodied voice while Ron's face began to pale. Harry, on the other hand, quickly determined the voice's source.
"How did you get in here, Matt?" Harry asked simply, his eyes not leaving the chessboard. Ron's eyes, in contrast were as wide as saucers.
"It can't be Matt! How could he have gotten into the common room?"
"I could've followed your brothers." And with that revelation, Matt snapped himself out of the effects of his invisibility potion and made himself visible. Upon seeing the Ravenclaw, Hermione returned to her traditional grimace of frustration.
"That Skeeter woman could have really been hurt from what you did to her!"
"Come off it, Hermione," Ron said with a smile, "you liked watching that nosy git get burned as much as Harry and I did!"
"Whether I did or not," Hermione said tartly, "It doesn't change the fact that it was a horrible thing to do."
"Sorry, Hermione," Matt said softly. "I just wanted to stop her from badgering Hagrid and it was the best idea I could think of at the time." After the apology, Matt tried his puppy-dog eyes on Hermione and started speaking childishly.
"Could you pwease forgive me? Pweaty pwease with sugar on top?" Hermione tried to stop Matt with a look of utter disgust, but her efforts were in vain.
"Alright, alright," Hermione said, finally relenting. "Just don't do it again!"
Over the next hour, the four students had swapped stories while having a grand time. Matt told Ron and Hermione about his invisibility potion while Hermione showed off her Transfiguration skills by turning her Arithmancy book into a hamster. Ron seemed determined to tell Matt everything he knew about Quidditch while Harry had told all Matt wanted to know about Rita Skeeter.
"Should have got her better than I did," Matt said, ignoring the glance from Hermione.
"Wish I would've thought of it," Ron said, turning to stare at the roaring fire that heated the cozy confines of the Gryffindor Common Room. "I've been wanting to get at her ever since she wrote that nasty article about my dad."
"You better be careful, Matt," Hermione said cautiously, "Rita may try to dig up some dirt on you now."
"Don't worry!" Matt said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've got nothing to hide! I'm as innocent as the day I was born." Hermione snorted quite loudly at that statement.
"You know," Harry said to Matt, "you should really get out of here, Matt. I'd hate to be in your shoes if Professor McGonagall catches you in here." At that, Matt abruptly burst into laughter.
"Why should I have to worry about that old bat!" Matt boasted. "She couldn't catch me unless I gave her a five-day head start!" As Matt continued to tell the three Gryffindors about his skill in secrecy, he was quite unaware that another Gryffindor had caught that last snippet of conversation.
"Um, Matt." Ron murmured.
"I mean, COME ON! This is me we're talking about. I know you don't know me very well yet, but let me tell you. If I don't want to get caught, then I'm not going to get caught."
"But, Matt. . ." Harry said.
"BUT NOTHING!" Matt shouted. "She always gives me such a hard time in Transfiguration, but I'll always have the upper hand when it comes to her! Always!"
"Always, huh?" Minerva McGonagall quipped, now standing directly behind Matt. Matt didn't even bother to turn around.
"Crud." Matt said quietly.
It wasn't the first time that Professor McGonagall had dragged Matt around Hogwarts while holding onto his ear, but it was diffidently the most painful.
"Unbelievable!" Minerva spat, completely ignoring Matt's occasional yelps of pain. "Sneaking into my common room when it's past lights out! I'd wager that you were also the one behind that pig incident at breakfast this morning." Professor McGonagall stopped abruptly at that, turning around sharply to look at the troublemaker.
"Well, are you?"
"Yes, ma'am," he answered timidly, quite thankful that she had ceased pulling on his ear. Instead, Professor McGonagall had grabbed a handful of Matt's cloak and dragged him to her office. Once they arrived, Professor McGonagall ordered Matt to take a seat as she proceeded to tower over him.
"I'm having a hard time trying to determine a punishment for you this time around, young man," Minerva said, her arms crossed and her nostrils flared up so harshly that Matt seriously considered the notion of sticking a Knut or two up them. "Perhaps you would like to offer me some advice on this!"
"Well," Matt said, "maybe you could just let me off with a warning?"
"Fat chance, mister." McGonagall said, still maintaining her arctic- level glare. "I would deduct points from your house, but that doesn't seem to stop you from breaking the rules. Thus, I will simply give you a week's detention." A rather foolish part of Matt's brain almost strummed up the nerve to complain about his sentencing but his logic soon nipped that idea in the bud. "Now, all I need to do is find someone who will put up with your foolish behavior for a week."
"Perhaps I can be of some help in that matter," a cold voice said from within McGonagall's doorway. The voice belonged to a sallow-faced man with slick black hair and a hooked nose. For most people, an encounter with Potions master Severus Snape was an experience that they would like to forget. From his nasty temper to his very shady past, the head of Slytherin house was one of the least liked people at Hogwarts.
For a man who was suffering from the withering glare of Minerva McGonagall, however, it was a thankful sight to behold.
"Are you certain, Severus?" Minerva asked while never taking her eyes of Matt, "I'm sure that Professor Flitwick would prefer to take care of this manner in his own fashion."
"Nonsense, Minerva," Snape said, holding Matt still with a tight- lipped grin. "I will be more than happy to deal with this boy's transgressions." Professor McGonagall looked from Snape to Matt, as if to judge if even Matt had deserved such a horrible punishment.
"Why not?" Minerva said with a sly grin. "Very well. Starting now, you will report to Professor Snape for your detention assignments. If you fail or displease Professor Snape in any fashion, I will be more than happy to extend your stay there."
"Yes, ma'am." Matt muttered quietly, his once hyper-inflated ego now reduced to the size of a chickpea.
Neither Snape or Matt said a word as they made the long trip down the perilous pathway that led to Snape's dungeon. Snape was striding at such a fast pace that Matt almost had to jog to keep up with him. When they arrived in the clammy dungeon, one of the torchlights had gone out and Professor Snape gave a silent order for Matt to relight it, without using magic, of course. If it was one thing that Severus Snape disliked, it was students that took unnecessary shortcuts. Once the task was done, Matt had turned around to see Snape leafing through a large book full of formulas for a considerable variety of potions.
"Um, thank you very much, Professor Snape," Matt sounded out quietly. It was a good thirty seconds before Snape responded.
"Tell me something," Snape said in his familiar wintry drawl while still flipping through the pages, "is it true you turned three students that are under my care into pigs?"
"Yes."
"Is it true that you set Rita Skeeter on fire using one of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts?"
"Yes." Matt felt no need to question Snape on how he learned of this. He was well aware of Snape's ability to obtain information.
"Is it true that, using an illegal potion, you snuck into the Gryffindor Common Room after hours?"
"Yes."
"Did you take any of the ingredients from my storage?"
"No, sir." Finally, Snape ceased searching through the potions book and stared directly at the young Ravenclaw, his sharp, black eyes looking for any signs of deceit. After a brief examination, Severus was quite pleased that he found none. As a reward, the greasy-haired Potions professor gave him a cold smirk, which was, for Snape, the highest form of respect that he ever gave anyone.
Matt couldn't have been happier.
When he first arrived at Hogwarts, some of the older Ravenclaw students had told him to watch out for Professor Snape, who had obtained a well-earned reputation for being hard on students, particularly those not in his own house. Although Snape had proven this rumor to him time and time again, Matt had, over time developed a harsh form of respect for the head of Slytherin house. Snape pushed him harder than any other teacher he had ever met and, for him, it was truly a privilege for the codgery Potions professor to hold him in such high-esteem.
"Listen up, boy. Madam Pomfrey has requested five-dozen Esuna potions and we shall be the wizards to provide them. With any luck, you will somehow muster the intellectual acumen to create twenty-five of these potions during this week, starting with the five you will make before the sun rises. If you fail me, I will deduct twenty-five points from your house for every potion you do not make successfully. Do I make myself clear, boy?"
"Yes, sir." Matt said, his face now cleared of bemusement and merriment. There was work to be done, and Matt was not about to dodge away from it.
Ever since he was five years old, Matt had been fascinated with potions. You did not need to be a magician to make a potion, you just needed your own intelligence and determination. It wasn't like Transfiguration, which Matt viewed as a worthless exercise of a wizard's talent. Honestly, when would you ever need to turn a mouse into a snuffbox?! Making potions was a precise exercise, nerve-racking and stressful, particularly with a teacher like Severus Snape. When you made a potion, it was an extension of your own capabilities. The more difficult the potion to make, the more fun Matt had in making it. And as far as potions go, it does not get more difficult than the Esuna potion.
Matt could understand why Madam Pomfrey would want a supply of them. Esuna potions could, if made correctly, cure someone of nearly any poison known to man within moments. With the number of dangerous creatures lurking around Hogwarts combined with the number of nosy students that were bound to meet some of these dangerous creatures, having an Esuna potion or two around was more of a necessity than a failsafe.
Snape and Matt both worked together at the same table, each of them furiously laboring away at their own stations. Snape seemed to move through the complex motions as if they were nothing, but Matt was determined to give the professor a run for his money. As the hours passed, cloves of garlic were precisely cut and the feet of many rabbits had fallen into their cauldrons. There were over a dozen ingredients that made up the Esuna potion, from a clove of garlic to a rabbit's foot, to a stalk of mandrake, and not one of these ingredients could be prepared incorrectly. Finally, as the larks began to signal the coming of the sun, Matt was greeted with the sight of thirteen Esuna potions lined up on one side of the table, six of which he was proud to say he had made. After taking a brief moment of time experimenting with each, Severus turned to Matt to issue his judgment.
"A lucky break, boy. Get out of my sight."
With those glowing words, Matt gave a quick farewell to the Potions master and rushed his way towards the Ravenclaw common room. On the way, he said hello to Peeves, who challenged him to a game of tennis in the Great Hall. He nearly ran through the Grey Lady, the ghost of the Ravenclaw house. Upon seeing him, the old ghost gave him a patient and knowing smile.
"I'll speak to you in the morning, dear." Matt just dashed by her and hastily made his way up to the fourth-floor boys dorm. Ignoring the loud snoring of his roommate, Terry Boot, he collapsed onto his bed for a well- earned three hours of sleep.
And thus, the end of another long day at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Yikes! I didn't expect to go on this long, but I wanted to make certain that my main characters were introduced properly. If you feel the same way, feel free to tell me about it. I could use the reviews. Well, for those of you who are still reading, I'd like to thank you for putting up with my ramblings and allow me to give you a present: the preview of the next chapter!
The Yule Ball is rolling around at Hogwarts and Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Matt are looking for some dancing partners. What happens when history is changed and Viktor Krum is out of Hermione's social picture? What woman would be desperate enough to go out with either Matt or Ron?! Also, it seems that Voldemort is planning to send one of his servants in to crash the party. Who is this mysterious assassin? Find out the answers to all this and more in. . . Chapter Four: Prelude to Romance?!
Disclaimer: According to Scholastic Inc. Books, I am not the rightful owner of Harry Potter and his ilk. However, I'm more than happy to lend a hand in their next literary efforts. After all, I have a lot of good ideas! So come on, J.K., give this guy a chance! I need to find an easier way to pay for my rent than washing dishes and cooking! Anyway, enough of my misguided anger.
1 Chapter 3- Strange Connections
"Just who is this person that we're going to eat with today?" Hermione hissed as they made their way to the Dining Hall. "I hope he's not some kind of troublemaker!"
"You're not Harry's mum, Herm," Ron said with a mixture of sarcasm and exasperation. Harry, who was unfortunate enough to be standing between the two quarreling young magicians, gave a patient sigh and rubbed his tired eyes.
"Did you even watch the first task, Ron? Someone is clearly after Harry! We can't just give all our secrets away to a complete stranger! You should know better, Harry!"
"Sorry, Hermione." Harry said sheepishly. Now it was Hermione's turn to sigh quietly. Moments after Harry's quiet apology, Hermione shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and smiled.
"Forget it, Harry. We'll just cross this bridge when we come to it. You have to promise me though that you two are going to help me with the House Elf Liberation Front tonight however."
"Oh, man!" Ron shouted in frustration. Harry just chuckled quietly. Ron was well known for being very content with the house elves' condition and was probably the last person who wanted the house elves to stop working at Hogwarts (particularly after indulging in the house elves' cooking talents time and time again). However, Hermione's determination was something that was almost insurmountable for anyone, even someone as stubborn as Ron, to overcome.
"Fine, fine!" Ron said, quickly agreeing with Hermione's request. 'How come I'm always put through these kinds of things!' he thought sourly.
Before the three friends had any more time to debate, they had arrived at the Hogwarts Dining Hall. If you wanted a single image that could be associated with the overall goings-on at the school, a picture of the Hogwarts Dining Room at the start of breakfast was probably the finest example. The huge room was bustling with excited and hungry young witches and wizards, hastily working their way to their seats to get the best pickings. The air was filled with the rich scents and sounds of pancake batter, fresh bacon, and snippets of dozens of different conversations going on at the same time. Many of the young men were clustered around the Ravenclaw table, where many of the exotic veela witches of Beauxbeatons Academy were eating quietly, trying, in vain, to avoid the hormone-charged youth. Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, students from the Durmstrang Institute ate with a nearly savage intensity, as if eating their breakfast was a mission that it was imperative for them to succeed. The Triwizard Tournament had brought along representatives from other European magical schools and their presence here only intensified the cheery chaos.
"Hurry, you two," Hermione chirped urgently, "let's get to our seats! Herbology is going to start in 35 minutes!"
"Yes, Hermione," Ron and Harry said simultaneously, earning a sharp glare from their bushy-haired friend. The three friends hustled to their usual seats and quickly arranged their breakfasts. Ron was particularly eager in this task, using his fork to spear generous helpings of sausage, eggs, and bacon before placing them on his plate.
"So, where is this new friend of yours?" Ron asked, his mouth already stuffed with bacon. Harry, who was still searching for Matt, hadn't touched his food yet. After all, he said he was going to make a big entrance and, after last night's meeting, he was hardly going to miss it. While Harry couldn't find the Ravenclaw prankster, Hermione's brown eyes locked in on a certain brown-haired boy walking slowly towards the Slytherin table. It took a while for her to determine the exact destination for the boy's travels: the seats of Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle, Harry's archenemies. As the three Slytherins marveled over Draco's new racing broom that his father had bought him the boy crept over towards the trio's drinks and evenly poured the contents of a small potion into each of their goblets. After the deed was done, the brown-haired boy was sporting a huge grin on his face and calmly walked away from his work.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" Hermione ripped her eyes away from the three boorish Slytherins and gazed into Harry's emerald-green eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine. I just thought I saw something really weird."
"You'll have to be more specific," Ron said quietly, "something you think is weird is probably pretty bleedin' normal to us." Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ron, who quickly returned the gesture, and the three turned back to their breakfast. Several minutes later, however, Harry, Ron, and Hermione heard a sound that was quite, pardon the pun, unheard of in the dining hall.
Oinking.
It took a while for Harry and Hermione to identify the source of it, but Ron found it immediately and was nearly exploding with laughter along with over half of the Hogwarts student body.
Where there was once Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe there now stood three pinkish-white pigs. Startled by the tremendous amount of noise in the Great Hall, the three newly transformed Slytherins quickly panicked and started running about the busy dining hall, almost running over several shocked students. Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and professor of Transfiguration, soon quickly gave chase in an attempt to cure the three, which only made the increased the laughter in the dining hall. Even their fellow Slytherins, who were notorious of standing by one another, were shaking with laughter at the bizarre scene. However, nobody in the dining hall was laughing harder than Ron Weasley, whose family held a long-standing hatred with the Malfoy family that has spanned for generations.
"Do you like my entrance, Harry?" a voice asked from behind the three Gryffindors
Both Harry and Hermione quickly stifled their laughter and whirled around to find the source of the calm voice.
"Matt? You did this?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Consider it a house-warming gift, night walker!" Matt MacDougal said as he heartily slapped Harry on his shoulders. By now, Ron had somehow managed to stop his own waves of laughter and turned to look at the new person at the table.
"It's one of the potions I've been working on," Matt said with the same wry grin on his face. "I've heard of some of the run-ins you guys have had with those Slytherins and I'm not a big fan of them myself. So, I decided to kill two birds with one stone by using them as test subjects for my new transfiguration potion. And Professor Snape says that transfiguration and potions don't mix!"
While Harry and Ron both laughed heartily at this, Hermione's all-too- familiar cross look came over her face. Although she was amused with the boy's "piggy prank," she wasn't about to let him know it.
"I trust you are the 'friend' that Harry had met yesterday," Hermione said flatly.
"Matt MacDougal's my name," he said while extending his hand in a jovial fashion.
"Ron Weasley," Ron said merrily clasping Matt's hands with his own. "Let me just say that trick was just fantastic!" Harry almost laughed at Ron's cheeriness and enthusiasm.
"Sit down, Matt," Harry said while pushing the seat next to him open. "This is Hermione Granger," he said, pointing to the bushy-haired fourth- year student.
"Granger?" Matt said slowly as he lowered himself down in the chair, "as in the Granger that founded the House-Elf Liberation Front?" At that question, Hermione's interest in the boy picked up significantly.
"Yes!" Hermione said excitedly. "Would you like to join?"
"No, thanks," Matt said simply, "I just wanted a face to match with all the ludicrous ideas I read in that pamphlet of yours." At that comment, Ron nearly spit out his scrambled eggs and Harry's silverware dropped on his plate with a horrible clang!. Hermione's auburn-brown eyes narrowed into slits and gave Matt a dreadful scowl. Despite his bravery, even Matthew was forced to take a step back from the angry Gryffindor.
"And just what is your stance on the rights of house elves, Mr. MacDougal?" Hermione asked coldly, her eyes never leaving the Ravenclaw student for the slightest moment.
"Well, um," Matt stammered, the self-confidence he had gained from his clever prank now blown to the fore-winds, "I just think that, um".
"Go on," Hermione asked, her hostile tone nearly freezing Matt to the bone.
"It's just that I don't agree with your idea of 'freedom' for the house-elves," Matt said slowly. Ron and Harry had not moved from their spots, looking at Hermione to see how she would respond. Much to their shock, Hermione's hard scowl had faded away into a countenance of thoughtful determination.
"What is wrong with allowing house-elves their freedom from the slavery we've put them under?" That question left the three boys silent for a moment. Then, much to the amazement of Matt, Harry, and Ron, Harry spoke up.
"I think he's saying that, um, just giving house-elves their personal freedom in an instant would do more harm than good."
"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione asked, her eyes alight with interest. "For hundreds of years these creatures have been socially conditioned that servitude is the highest form of life they can accomplish. You know as well as I do that we are responsible for the condition of the house-elves and I feel that we must do something to stop it."
"Social whatta? What does shampoo have to do with house-elves?" Ron asked, completely befuddled by the debate. However, the other three students at the table ignored Ron's confusion. Seeing that he wasn't the point of attention, Ron quickly snatched Hermione's unused knife and used it to spread some strawberry preserved on his toast.
"That's exactly the point!" Matt shouted. "Hundreds of years of being told that something was good for them is not going to be undone by jus telling them that it's wrong. If you want to free the house-elves, you have to show them that there are alternatives to their current lifestyles. Whether they think it's preferable or not must be a decision made up to them, not to you."
"I agree," Harry said with determination. "After all, even some of the African slaves who were freed by government legislation remained on the land of the people who enslaved them."
"But that's because they had nowhere else to go!" Hermione said, her left fist slamming down upon the table, causing her glass of orange juice to spill onto the table. Ron moved quickly to move the spilt juice from anybody's food.
'All this hard work shouldn't just go to waste,' Ron thought.
"Then you can show the house-elves that they do have a place to go." Matt said, grabbing a spare knife from the Gryffindor breakfast table and snagging a piece of toast.
"But what about Dobby?" Hermione asked.
"Who?" Matt asked, completely thrown.
"One of Lucius Malfoy's former house-elves," Ron said, happy to finally contribute something intelligent to the conversation.
"He's currently working as a paid employee in the Hogwarts kitchens," Harry finished.
"Okay. And how is this elf treated by the other elves?" Matt asked Hermione.
"Well," she began, very slow to tell the truth, "The other elves look down on him."
"Exactly," Matt said while pointing the butter knife at Hermione, "you have to understand that the elves that do change because of what you do are going to make a huge sacrifice."
"But Dobby is happy!" Hermione said with exasperation.
"But that doesn't guarantee that other house-elves will be!" Everything was quiet for a moment at the brief part of the Gryffindor table. Then, Hermione picked up the now empty cup of orange juice off of the table and stared into it. Harry and Matt looked at one another, both with the same guilty look.
"But," Matt stammered, desperately trying to cheer her up, "it's a noble cause."
"Yes, it's very noble," Harry said quickly. "I'm really proud that you're working so hard on something you believe in. It's really endearing." At that compliment, Hermione gave a short blush that she hoped that no one noticed.
"Do you really think so, Harry?" Hermione asked, a tender smile creeping up on her face.
"Um, well, of course!" Now it was Harry's turn to give a slight blush, a blush that was not ignored by either Matt or Ron. Matt turned to Ron, raising his eyebrow in interest. Ron, in response, gave a short nod that told Matt that he'd tell him about it later.
"You know," Ron said as he used his napkin to wipe some of Hermione's orange juice from his Herbology book, "my mum once read me a story about an elf castle way below the earth."
"Oh yeah!" Matt piped up, turning back to face Ron, "my gran told me that story too! There was an elf king and they fought giants and everything!"
"Maybe you can read it to them in the kitchens, Herm." Harry said, bopping Hermione in the shoulder with his fist. "Maybe it'll inspire 'em, you never know!"
"Maybe," she said with a sardonic grin. "But despite what you two think," she said while pointing two short fingers at Harry and Matt, "I'll do anything to help the house-elves see the truth." Matt and Harry, both deciding that further argument was futile, both sighed in defeat.
"Don't worry about it," Ron said, slapping Matt firmly around the shoulders. "She seems like a pain in the arse now, but get to know her and you'll see she's even worse."
"Oh shut it you stupid git," Hermione whispered good-naturedly, causing Matt and Harry to laugh. Ron, in response, simply took another big swig of pumpkin juice before turning sideways to face Matt.
"Well," Ron said with a smile, "now that we got that silly talk out of the way, let's talk about more important things!"
"And what do you consider to be more important than personal freedom?" Hermione snorted.
"What Matt's favorite Quidditch team is. Are you a fan of the Cannons, Matt?" Groaning in frustration, Hermione abruptly slouched down and placed her head on top of her Herbology book, her hair seemingly covering the entire cover. Harry had to laugh. Ron was a huge fan of the wizard sport and, on many occasions, it seemed to be the only thing he ever wanted to talk about. Although Ron's favorite team, the Chudley Cannons, had not won a pennant in over two decades, Ron cheered them on to an almost insane degree. It was that enthusiasm that truly attracted Harry to him. Matt, on the other hand, seemed to shy away from Ron's inquisition.
"Well, I really don't. . ."
"Don't tell me you're a fan of the Dublin Dodgers?!" Ron said with exasperation. "I don't think I could stand running into another one of their fans. Bloody egotistical bastards!"
"You're just mad at them because they beat the Cannons every time they play them," Harry said simply.
"Shaddap, Harry!" Ron shouted before turning back to Matt, who seemed to want to scamper away from the table. "Well, Matt, what about it?" Matt continued to squirm underneath Ron's anxious look.
"Well, Ron, Idon'tfollowquidditch." Matt mumbled harshly. Harry raised his eyebrows in shock while Hermione looked up from her book. Ron, however, was a little slow to respond.
"What did you say?" Ron said, his tone of voice mixed with shock, confusion, and a hint of suspicion. Wilting under Ron's voice, Matt gave a deep sigh and slumped his shoulders before responding.
"I just don't really like Quidditch, Ron." Matt said with a shrug. "I just think that wizards could do a whole lot more with their abilities then fly around chasing a bunch of dumb balls with silly names. It's a waste of perfectly good time and energy."
Ron's mouth was open so wide that he could have fit a jam jar in it.
"You're a wizard?" Ron asked slowly.
"Last time I checked," Matt responded.
"And you don't like Quidditch?" Ron asked, his tone disbelieving.
"Nope." Ron took quite a bit of time to respond to Matt's simple answer.
"Is that even possible?"
"Quit gawking, Ron!" Hermione snapped, hurtling Matt and Ron out of their bizarre conversation. "If Matt doesn't like Quidditch, then he doesn't like it. Don't look at him like he's some kind of alien!" Ron's ears quickly turned pink with that and abruptly returned to his food.
"You know, Matt," Harry said with a smile. "I'm the seeker on the Gryffindor House team. Maybe I can change your mind on Quidditch." With that, Matt immediately perked up.
"Perhaps I could," Matt said with a smile. "And maybe I could show you how to make these cool potions I've been working on!"
"Well," Hermione chirped brightly, "then it looks like we have a compromise!" Hermione took a brief glance at her watch. "Speaking of compromises, how about we settle our debates later. Herbology starts in five minutes, guys."
"Better get going then," Harry said while wolfing down the last of his scrambled eggs. "We'll see you later, Matt!"
"Okay, Harry." Matt said, taking a brief look at his now cold breakfast. Harry, Hermione, and Matt all quickly stood up and gathered their belongings. Ron, still in shock over Matt's confession, was still rooted to his chair.
"He doesn't like Quidditch." Ron said slowly.
"Yes, Ron. We know that." Hermione said while grabbing a fistful of Ron's robe and dragging the redhead along. "Nice to meet you, Matt!" she said while waving cheerfully to him. While Matt rushed towards Arithmancy, he had one word on the tip of his tongue as he thought about the three Gryffindors that he just met.
"Cool."
It was a typical day in class for Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger. In Herbology, Professor Sprout had a collection of gigantic Venus Fly-Traps on display as she taught the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs on how to shear them properly. Harry, who had acquired a bit of bad luck when it came to Herbology over the last few weeks, nearly had his hand bit off by one of the more anxious plants. Fortunately, Ron was able to warn him in time. In Care of Magical Creatures, the three Gryffindors were not pleased to find out that they were going to get to know their "pets" a little better. Unfortunately, their pets were blast- ended skrewts, vicious creatures with horrible poisonous spikes, tubes that could suck blood, and the ability to "blast off," which could set some unfortunate student on fire. Then, as Hermione went to Professor Vector's Arithmancy class, Ron and Harry went high up into the North Tower for their Divination class, where Professor Trelawney continued to prophesize a series of unfortunate fates for Harry long after Ron had fallen asleep.
"How come that old bat never prophesizes my death?" Ron asked Harry as they descended down the Astronomy tower on their way to the Gryffindor common room. "At least I would have some reason to be there then. It's no good for you to have all the fun."
"Can't help you there, Ron," Harry said with a smile, brushing back some of his wild black hair from his forehead. "I guess I just have all the luck."
"Look on the bright side, Harry. We don't have any homework in Herbology tonight. Maybe we can convince Hermione to come down to Hagrid's with us."
"You're not looking for another meeting with those skrewts are you?"
"Good God!" Ron said, rolling his eyes. "I don't think I can stand another day with those monsters. If I didn't like Hagrid so much I would have killed that blasted skrewt the first day I saw it!" Although Harry did not fully agree with Ron's opinion toward the blast-ended skrewts, he didn't disagree either. Hagrid had a well-known love for taking care of dangerous creatures, the more lethal the better. Back in Harry's first year, Hagrid had somehow managed to purchase a dragon egg, which Hagrid had fully intended to hatch and raise at the cost of his job and possible freedom until they had talked him out of it. By the time Hagrid had allowed the dragon to leave, "Baby Norbert" was almost big enough to burn down Hagrid's house. However, Hagrid didn't care about that then and he just thought the skrewts were the cutest creatures he ever met now.
'Guess we all have our little quirks,' Harry thought with a grin.
It took quite an effort on Ron's part to convince Hermione to venture out to Hagrid's cabin. She had begun to prepare a History of Magic essay that wasn't due for two months. Only a tremendous display of stubborn determination on Ron's part could persuade the Gryffindor bookworm to drop her quill and join them in having a little fun.
"If only to keep you two out of trouble," Hermione said in her defense.
Moments later, the three friends were tromping their way through the grassy knoll that led to Hagrid's cabin. They spotted the grounds keeper well before they reached the hut. Indeed, with Hagrid standing well over 8 feet tall, he was very difficult not to spot. He had his back to the three, seeming to look at one of the larger skrewts, which looked as though it was preparing to set fire to Hagrid's pumpkin patch.
"Oi, Hagrid!" Ron shouted as the three drew closer. Hagrid swiveled around abruptly, his beetle-black eyes seeming to lock on to Harry's. Even Hagrid's enormous beard could not hope to cover up the gameskeepers' smile.
"'ello you three!" Hagrid roared happily. "Didn't 'spect to see you here. Jus' watchin' one of my babies," referring to the skrewt in the pumpkin patch. It had now taken to using its' spikes to punch holes into some of the bigger pumpkins.
"Ain't it beautiful?" Hagrid said, his eyes nearly brimming with tears.
"Yes. . ." Hermione said, very careful to hide her sarcasm. "It's lovely." Ron and Harry could barely stifle their laughter.
"Ah," Hagrid said, his huge grin still beaming. "There's someone I'd like ya to meet." Hagrid cupped his huge hands around his mouth so as not to hurt the children's ears. "Matt! Come on over!" Then, turning back to the Gryffindors, he whispered, "Matt's one of me best students."
Ron, Hermione, and Harry all exchanged looks. Shortly after Hagrid's shout, a familiar young man had appeared over a hill, his brown hair fluttering in the harsh winds. He was trailed by one of the larger skrewts, who seemed to be making efforts to follow the young man diligently. Hagrid seemed to shine as he and the Gryffindors watched the skrewt follow Matt around as if it were a trained puppy. Because of the sunset, it took a while for Matt to spot Harry and the others. When he did, however, he smiled brightly and ran over to see them.
"Hi, guys!" Matt said, the skrewt rushing to catch up with him. "I was taking Ginger out for a walk. I didn't expect to see you guys here!"
"Ginger?!" Harry asked, bewildered.
"My skrewt," Matt responded simply, as though having a blast-ended skrewt for a pet seemed like a completely logical thing to do. "You want to pet it? She's real friendly!"
"I'd rather not," Ron responded while leaping several feet away from Matt and "Ginger". Harry and Hermione, however, had somehow summed up the courage to step up and try. However, well before either of their hands reached the skrewt they were greeted with a harsh growl that they had heard far too often from the other skrewts. Matt just chuckled.
"You have to know where they like to be touched," Matt said simply as his left hand grazed a small spot between some of the skrewt's spikes. Ginger's angry demeanor had quickly diminished as it started rubbing its head against Matt's pant leg. Harry and Hermione had quickly followed Matt's lead and, within seconds, Ginger seemed to be enjoying herself immensely.
"I've always had a knack with animals," Matt said, the same simple tone still resonating in his voice. "It's been that way ever since I was young."
"Is this the same way you found out about Mrs. Norris?" Harry asked.
"You got it, Harry. You just have to know what you're getting yourself into before you do it."
"You should 'ave seen the way he handled the hippogriffs last year!" Hagrid gushed, wrapping a mammoth hand around Matt's shoulders. "By the first day he was flying with those things around Hogwarts. Never seen anythin' like it." Matt was blushing profusely at this point.
"It wasn't that much," Matt, said, trying desperately to maintain some humility, "I think it really wanted to toss me into the lake and I was too scared to fall off." Hermione and Harry both laughed at that. Ron, meanwhile, had managed to inch a bit closer to the skrewt but didn't seem prepared to move any further. After all, he wasn't a fool.
"So," Hagrid went on, "what brings you three to me hut today?"
"We just wanted to drop by and say hello," Hermione answered while still petting Ginger.
"Oh, an' by the way, 'Arry." Hagrid said cheerily. "Congratulations on the first task. You sure showed that Horntail. Did you see 'Arry flyin' out there, Matt?"
"Hagrid," Matt said with patient exasperation, "I was taking care of the skrewts, remember?" Hagrid made a little effort to recollect before responding.
"Ah, yeah!" Hagrid said, finally remembering. "You shoulda' been there, Matt. 'Twas amazing it was. 'Arry's a great flier, just like his dad."
"Thanks, Hagrid." Harry said. It was his turn to blush again. Hagrid was about to invite the four students in for some treacle tarts until Ron spotted another figure coming towards the hut. A figure that caused Ron, Harry, and Hermione to scowl in anger and mistrust.
For there, in front of Hagrid, stood Daily Prophet investigative reporter Rita Skeeter. Her ever-present Quick Quotes quill was poking out of her kitschy crocodile-skin handbag. Her magenta robes clashed with the fading sunset in such a horrible fashion that it made Matt want to cross his eyes. Matt knew very little about Rita Skeeter, aside from her reputation of causing trouble with nasty rumors in her column, but he had immediately gained a scowl similar to Harry's.
"'Lo there, milady. Can I help you in any fashion?"
Hagrid, 'bless his heart', Matt thought, was oblivious to it. The titanic groundskeeper was just happy to meet a new face.
"Ah, Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, is it?" Rita asked, her voice very terse. "What a pleasant afternoon. I came by to see if I could interview you about your relationship with Harry Potter." Harry's look of anger quickly changed to confusion. It was as if . .
"She doesn't know you're here Harry!" Hermione whispered. It was quite true. "Ginger's" flank had effectively blocked Harry from Rita's roving eyes. "Stay hidden," she hissed to Harry and Ron, "I want to see what she does." By the time Harry and Ron had turned back to Rita and Hagrid, Rita had already started questioning the amiable Care of Magical Creatures teacher.
"How long have you known Harry Potter, Mr. Hagrid?"
"Jus' call me Hagrid, ma'am," he said with a smile, "an' I've known 'Arry ever since he was a little tyke. I was the one who took 'im to his Muggle relatives when, well, ya' know."
"Yes," Rita said, treating Hagrid's painful memory as if it were just another part of her story.
"I was also the one who picked 'im up when he was to go to Hogwarts," Hagrid said with his chest puffed up with pride.
"So you've been acquainted with Harry for the three years he's been to Hogwarts?" Rita asked flatly. "Tell me, how would you describe his behavior around his professors. Does he cause as much trouble as I've heard?" Harry rolled his eyes at the ridiculous question while Hermione and Ron both scrunched up their faces in anger.
"Well, I can't say fer the other professors, but I've never had to tell him off in four years."
"He never played you up in lessons, has he?" Rita asked, her voice now tainted with irritation.
"Not once," Hagrid said with a questioning frown. "'Scuse me, Mrs. Skeeter, I don't mean to offend ya' but it seems like you're wantin' me to say Harry was horrible."
"I'd be inclined to agree, Professor." Matt said, rising up from his hiding spot while trying desperately to hold in his anger. He knew that he had just met Harry, but he wasn't about to have anyone talk bad about him while he was around. And he certainly wasn't going to let this little mole pressure Hagrid any longer.
Not to mention. . . he just had the most wicked idea.
Rita was visibly perturbed by the student's appearance, but the seemingly innocent smile on the Ravenclaw's face seemed to disarm her a bit. "And who might you be, young man?"
"My name's Matt MacDougal," he said sweetly. "I'm in my fourth year just like Harry." Rita's interests visibly perked up after hearing Harry's name.
"Oh!" Rita exclaimed while taking some time to readjust her writing pad onto her horribly manicured hands. "And how well do you know Harry, Mr. MacDougal?"
"Well, Mrs. Skeeter, to be honest, I was wondering if you'd like to see some of the animals that we've been taking care of in Hagrid's class. You know, since you're interviewing him and all."
"I'd like that very much," Rita said with a smile, fully expecting that this idiotic boy would show her some flobberworms and maybe a hinkypink before leaving her so she could continue her business. As he promised, Matt soon introduced Rita to one of Hagrid's magical creatures. The one that was still trashing Hagrid's pumpkin patch, to be precise.
"This is a blast-ended skrewt," Matt said, somehow still maintaining his harmless tone. While Rita stared at the horrific monster, Matt slowly made his way to one of Hagrid's feeding bins and pulled out a recently plucked and decapitated chicken. The skrewt took an immediate interest to the delicacy, so much so that Matt was amazed that it didn't rush after him already.
"Why don't you sit by his flank, Mrs. Skeeter?" Matt asked, praying that Mrs. Skeeter's knowledge of blast-ended skrewts was as little as he expected. As if to answer his silent question, Rita had circled around the creature so that its' back was turned to her. After making a short prayer, Matt decided to put his plan into action.
"Fetch boy!" Matt shouted, throwing the chicken carcass across the pumpkin patch. The skrewt, now seeing that its pathway to food was clear, chose to get to it the fastest way possible.
"EEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKK!!!!" Rita screeched as her magenta robes and Quick Quotes quill was set ablaze by the skrewt's "blasting off." Hagrid had hastily grabbed a bucket of water to throw on Rita while Hermione and Harry's eyes were wide open in shock. Ron, on the other hand, was rolling on the forest floor with laughter, his ears turning pink from the lack of oxygen. After a few tense moments, the flames had been extinguished and Hagrid began to profusely apologize to Rita.
"That will be all, Mr. Hagrid," Rita said, her dark eyes staring directly into Matt's intense scowl. Rita, to her credit, returned the gaze with equal ferocity. Without another word, Rita quickly stalked away from Hagrid's hut, muttering something about "dirty little heathens." By the time Rita had gone over the hill that led back to Hogwarts, Matt had turned back to Hagrid with a very apologetic look on his face.
"Sorry I can't stay for the treacle tarts, Hagrid," Matt said, the tone of his voice still traced with anger, "but I think I've lost my appetite." Harry and Hermione were still too shocked to say anything while Ron was still trying to regain some oxygen. And, without another word, Matt was stalking back to Hogwarts.
The sun had long since been set before Ron, Harry, and Hermione heard from Matt again that day. They had settled down for a night of relaxation in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione had spent the last hour pouring over a book about the life of Elfric the Eager while Ron and Harry had busied themselves with several lop-sided games of wizard chess. Try as Harry might, he could never quite catch up to Ron when it came to chess.
"Come on, Hermione!" Ron said impatiently while one of his bishops drug an enemy pawn off the board. "Get your nose out of that book. That dumb goblin can't be that interesting!"
"I don't know, Ron, some of those goblin rebellions are pretty grisly."
Hermione nearly jumped out of her seat in shock after hearing the seemingly disembodied voice while Ron's face began to pale. Harry, on the other hand, quickly determined the voice's source.
"How did you get in here, Matt?" Harry asked simply, his eyes not leaving the chessboard. Ron's eyes, in contrast were as wide as saucers.
"It can't be Matt! How could he have gotten into the common room?"
"I could've followed your brothers." And with that revelation, Matt snapped himself out of the effects of his invisibility potion and made himself visible. Upon seeing the Ravenclaw, Hermione returned to her traditional grimace of frustration.
"That Skeeter woman could have really been hurt from what you did to her!"
"Come off it, Hermione," Ron said with a smile, "you liked watching that nosy git get burned as much as Harry and I did!"
"Whether I did or not," Hermione said tartly, "It doesn't change the fact that it was a horrible thing to do."
"Sorry, Hermione," Matt said softly. "I just wanted to stop her from badgering Hagrid and it was the best idea I could think of at the time." After the apology, Matt tried his puppy-dog eyes on Hermione and started speaking childishly.
"Could you pwease forgive me? Pweaty pwease with sugar on top?" Hermione tried to stop Matt with a look of utter disgust, but her efforts were in vain.
"Alright, alright," Hermione said, finally relenting. "Just don't do it again!"
Over the next hour, the four students had swapped stories while having a grand time. Matt told Ron and Hermione about his invisibility potion while Hermione showed off her Transfiguration skills by turning her Arithmancy book into a hamster. Ron seemed determined to tell Matt everything he knew about Quidditch while Harry had told all Matt wanted to know about Rita Skeeter.
"Should have got her better than I did," Matt said, ignoring the glance from Hermione.
"Wish I would've thought of it," Ron said, turning to stare at the roaring fire that heated the cozy confines of the Gryffindor Common Room. "I've been wanting to get at her ever since she wrote that nasty article about my dad."
"You better be careful, Matt," Hermione said cautiously, "Rita may try to dig up some dirt on you now."
"Don't worry!" Matt said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've got nothing to hide! I'm as innocent as the day I was born." Hermione snorted quite loudly at that statement.
"You know," Harry said to Matt, "you should really get out of here, Matt. I'd hate to be in your shoes if Professor McGonagall catches you in here." At that, Matt abruptly burst into laughter.
"Why should I have to worry about that old bat!" Matt boasted. "She couldn't catch me unless I gave her a five-day head start!" As Matt continued to tell the three Gryffindors about his skill in secrecy, he was quite unaware that another Gryffindor had caught that last snippet of conversation.
"Um, Matt." Ron murmured.
"I mean, COME ON! This is me we're talking about. I know you don't know me very well yet, but let me tell you. If I don't want to get caught, then I'm not going to get caught."
"But, Matt. . ." Harry said.
"BUT NOTHING!" Matt shouted. "She always gives me such a hard time in Transfiguration, but I'll always have the upper hand when it comes to her! Always!"
"Always, huh?" Minerva McGonagall quipped, now standing directly behind Matt. Matt didn't even bother to turn around.
"Crud." Matt said quietly.
It wasn't the first time that Professor McGonagall had dragged Matt around Hogwarts while holding onto his ear, but it was diffidently the most painful.
"Unbelievable!" Minerva spat, completely ignoring Matt's occasional yelps of pain. "Sneaking into my common room when it's past lights out! I'd wager that you were also the one behind that pig incident at breakfast this morning." Professor McGonagall stopped abruptly at that, turning around sharply to look at the troublemaker.
"Well, are you?"
"Yes, ma'am," he answered timidly, quite thankful that she had ceased pulling on his ear. Instead, Professor McGonagall had grabbed a handful of Matt's cloak and dragged him to her office. Once they arrived, Professor McGonagall ordered Matt to take a seat as she proceeded to tower over him.
"I'm having a hard time trying to determine a punishment for you this time around, young man," Minerva said, her arms crossed and her nostrils flared up so harshly that Matt seriously considered the notion of sticking a Knut or two up them. "Perhaps you would like to offer me some advice on this!"
"Well," Matt said, "maybe you could just let me off with a warning?"
"Fat chance, mister." McGonagall said, still maintaining her arctic- level glare. "I would deduct points from your house, but that doesn't seem to stop you from breaking the rules. Thus, I will simply give you a week's detention." A rather foolish part of Matt's brain almost strummed up the nerve to complain about his sentencing but his logic soon nipped that idea in the bud. "Now, all I need to do is find someone who will put up with your foolish behavior for a week."
"Perhaps I can be of some help in that matter," a cold voice said from within McGonagall's doorway. The voice belonged to a sallow-faced man with slick black hair and a hooked nose. For most people, an encounter with Potions master Severus Snape was an experience that they would like to forget. From his nasty temper to his very shady past, the head of Slytherin house was one of the least liked people at Hogwarts.
For a man who was suffering from the withering glare of Minerva McGonagall, however, it was a thankful sight to behold.
"Are you certain, Severus?" Minerva asked while never taking her eyes of Matt, "I'm sure that Professor Flitwick would prefer to take care of this manner in his own fashion."
"Nonsense, Minerva," Snape said, holding Matt still with a tight- lipped grin. "I will be more than happy to deal with this boy's transgressions." Professor McGonagall looked from Snape to Matt, as if to judge if even Matt had deserved such a horrible punishment.
"Why not?" Minerva said with a sly grin. "Very well. Starting now, you will report to Professor Snape for your detention assignments. If you fail or displease Professor Snape in any fashion, I will be more than happy to extend your stay there."
"Yes, ma'am." Matt muttered quietly, his once hyper-inflated ego now reduced to the size of a chickpea.
Neither Snape or Matt said a word as they made the long trip down the perilous pathway that led to Snape's dungeon. Snape was striding at such a fast pace that Matt almost had to jog to keep up with him. When they arrived in the clammy dungeon, one of the torchlights had gone out and Professor Snape gave a silent order for Matt to relight it, without using magic, of course. If it was one thing that Severus Snape disliked, it was students that took unnecessary shortcuts. Once the task was done, Matt had turned around to see Snape leafing through a large book full of formulas for a considerable variety of potions.
"Um, thank you very much, Professor Snape," Matt sounded out quietly. It was a good thirty seconds before Snape responded.
"Tell me something," Snape said in his familiar wintry drawl while still flipping through the pages, "is it true you turned three students that are under my care into pigs?"
"Yes."
"Is it true that you set Rita Skeeter on fire using one of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts?"
"Yes." Matt felt no need to question Snape on how he learned of this. He was well aware of Snape's ability to obtain information.
"Is it true that, using an illegal potion, you snuck into the Gryffindor Common Room after hours?"
"Yes."
"Did you take any of the ingredients from my storage?"
"No, sir." Finally, Snape ceased searching through the potions book and stared directly at the young Ravenclaw, his sharp, black eyes looking for any signs of deceit. After a brief examination, Severus was quite pleased that he found none. As a reward, the greasy-haired Potions professor gave him a cold smirk, which was, for Snape, the highest form of respect that he ever gave anyone.
Matt couldn't have been happier.
When he first arrived at Hogwarts, some of the older Ravenclaw students had told him to watch out for Professor Snape, who had obtained a well-earned reputation for being hard on students, particularly those not in his own house. Although Snape had proven this rumor to him time and time again, Matt had, over time developed a harsh form of respect for the head of Slytherin house. Snape pushed him harder than any other teacher he had ever met and, for him, it was truly a privilege for the codgery Potions professor to hold him in such high-esteem.
"Listen up, boy. Madam Pomfrey has requested five-dozen Esuna potions and we shall be the wizards to provide them. With any luck, you will somehow muster the intellectual acumen to create twenty-five of these potions during this week, starting with the five you will make before the sun rises. If you fail me, I will deduct twenty-five points from your house for every potion you do not make successfully. Do I make myself clear, boy?"
"Yes, sir." Matt said, his face now cleared of bemusement and merriment. There was work to be done, and Matt was not about to dodge away from it.
Ever since he was five years old, Matt had been fascinated with potions. You did not need to be a magician to make a potion, you just needed your own intelligence and determination. It wasn't like Transfiguration, which Matt viewed as a worthless exercise of a wizard's talent. Honestly, when would you ever need to turn a mouse into a snuffbox?! Making potions was a precise exercise, nerve-racking and stressful, particularly with a teacher like Severus Snape. When you made a potion, it was an extension of your own capabilities. The more difficult the potion to make, the more fun Matt had in making it. And as far as potions go, it does not get more difficult than the Esuna potion.
Matt could understand why Madam Pomfrey would want a supply of them. Esuna potions could, if made correctly, cure someone of nearly any poison known to man within moments. With the number of dangerous creatures lurking around Hogwarts combined with the number of nosy students that were bound to meet some of these dangerous creatures, having an Esuna potion or two around was more of a necessity than a failsafe.
Snape and Matt both worked together at the same table, each of them furiously laboring away at their own stations. Snape seemed to move through the complex motions as if they were nothing, but Matt was determined to give the professor a run for his money. As the hours passed, cloves of garlic were precisely cut and the feet of many rabbits had fallen into their cauldrons. There were over a dozen ingredients that made up the Esuna potion, from a clove of garlic to a rabbit's foot, to a stalk of mandrake, and not one of these ingredients could be prepared incorrectly. Finally, as the larks began to signal the coming of the sun, Matt was greeted with the sight of thirteen Esuna potions lined up on one side of the table, six of which he was proud to say he had made. After taking a brief moment of time experimenting with each, Severus turned to Matt to issue his judgment.
"A lucky break, boy. Get out of my sight."
With those glowing words, Matt gave a quick farewell to the Potions master and rushed his way towards the Ravenclaw common room. On the way, he said hello to Peeves, who challenged him to a game of tennis in the Great Hall. He nearly ran through the Grey Lady, the ghost of the Ravenclaw house. Upon seeing him, the old ghost gave him a patient and knowing smile.
"I'll speak to you in the morning, dear." Matt just dashed by her and hastily made his way up to the fourth-floor boys dorm. Ignoring the loud snoring of his roommate, Terry Boot, he collapsed onto his bed for a well- earned three hours of sleep.
And thus, the end of another long day at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Yikes! I didn't expect to go on this long, but I wanted to make certain that my main characters were introduced properly. If you feel the same way, feel free to tell me about it. I could use the reviews. Well, for those of you who are still reading, I'd like to thank you for putting up with my ramblings and allow me to give you a present: the preview of the next chapter!
The Yule Ball is rolling around at Hogwarts and Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Matt are looking for some dancing partners. What happens when history is changed and Viktor Krum is out of Hermione's social picture? What woman would be desperate enough to go out with either Matt or Ron?! Also, it seems that Voldemort is planning to send one of his servants in to crash the party. Who is this mysterious assassin? Find out the answers to all this and more in. . . Chapter Four: Prelude to Romance?!