By Admiral Albia
"They called me mad. I called them mad. And damn them they outvoted me."
Note; All quotes and songs will be marked. If it's not marked (and this
applies to Chapter 1 too), then I wrote it. Just to sort out any problems
which may arise with people saying `That's not Shakespeare!` when they
read Chapter 1, for example. I know it's not Shakespeare, I wrote
it. ^_^
On the same note, I'm going to try to make sure
Sirius sings songs that are in keeping with his timeline. That unfortunately
means that he will NOT be singing `Who Let the Dogs Out` unless someone
introduces it to him. You can expect 50's/60's rock and roll, though. ^_^
OK, so it's a little out, but I don't know much 70's music.
Disclaimer; If I owned Harry Potter, I would be working my arse off writing TOOTP(Book Five), not this crap. Sorry.
This chapter; An aversion to Quidditch is discovered. [Half of this chapter was written with SEVERE writers' block, so please pardon me if the standard goes down a bit. It was also meant to be much longer.]
Chapter Eight; Untitled due to writers' block
"Attention students!" The hall gradually quieted
as everyone turned to look at Dumbledore. "Following a certain... incident
with a student earlier this week-"
"Remus," Sirius muttered.
"-Professor Snape has been suspended from teaching until further notice. However, he will be joining our ranks as a student, along with the most esteemed Lucius Malfoy."
Slowly, everyone turned to look with sudden recognition at the greasy-haired, hook-nosed boy who had appeared at the Slytherin table lasst night, and who was now glaring at the room in general and Sirius in particular.
"Because of this," Dumbledore continued, "there will be no Potions lessons until we can find a replacement. Thank you." He sat down, and the hall slowly filled up with noise again.
"But won't that mess up our OWLs terribly?" Hermione asked, looking worried. Sirius laughed.
"The OWLs are easy, Hermione. You'll be fine, no matter where Snape is." He turned to look at the Slytherin table thoughtfully. "But I still don't like this. I only just survived my last round of sleeping in the same dormitory as Lucius Malfoy... well, I suppose the big `n` stupid duo aren't here this time round, but still..." he yawned suddenly. "God, I'm tired!"
"Maybe you should've gone to bed last night," Ron suggested.
"I did. Just as a dog, in the hospital wing." Sirius sighed. "And to tell you the truth, I'm glad I did. Remus is worse now, and it'll take his immune system a couple of days to recover..."
"Should we go and see him after school?"
"No point. He sleeps for twenty-four hours straight after each transformation; call it a rest period. He'll be out until this time tomorrow."
"But if we don't help them practice, Gryffindor could lose!" Hermione pointed out.
"Nonsense, you've got a Potter on the team. Look, you are not getting me on one of those things!" This offered some clue, at least, as to the source of the problem.
"Sirius, are you by any chance scared of heights?" Ron asked. Sirius laughed.
"If I were scared of heights, Ron, d'you think I'd've flown Buckbeak across the world twice? I'd find another form of transport as soon as possible."
"Scared of brooms?" Harry guessed. Sirius shook his head.
"Don't trust flying on something unless it's alive?"
"No; if anything I'd trust that kind of broom-" he gestured to Harry's Firebolt "- more than Beaky."
"Not sure how much they've improved brooms since you last used one?"
"True, but not the reason I'm not getting on one."
"Boys," Hermione cut in with a certain element in her voice which said this-is-just-too-obvious, "maybe Sirius just doesn't like Quidditch?"
"Finally! Someone gets it!" Ron and Harry were staring at him. "What?"
"How can you..." it sounded like Ron was having trouble saying this. "...not like Quidditch?" Sirius shrugged.
"Simple. I just look up and see a bunch of lunatics flying around trying to either whack, avoid or catch a ball and I think to myself `Boring`, and go and do something fun. No offense to Harry."
"But... but... but your name's on the Cup! 1974 to 1978! Beater with Remus!"[2]
"Yeah, only because his father talked me into it! And wouldn't give up!"
[2] I figured Ron should know this, after all the times he's polished the trophies in detention.
Well, I'm terribly sorry for keeping you all waiting so long for such a short chapter. Believe me, there's a very good excuse; the dreaded writers' block. I did what I could, but... hell, I'm still half-blocked now, just putting this ludicrousluy short chappie up so you don't forget me...
It's my muse. He wants attention, wants me to write about him... I told you, Arnold, when I finish Elf Wars! Then your moment of glory comes!
*cough* Review!