"GET UP YOU WIMPS BEFORE I HEX YOU ALL!!!!" I fell out of my lumpy
twin bed and onto the cold hard floor. "Owwwww." I let out a loud groan and
touched my lip, which was bleeding.
"GRANGER, GET UP THIS INSTENT BEFORE I MAKE YOU SCRUB MY OFFICE WITH A TOOTHBRUSH!!! AND WITH NO MAGIC EITHER!" Scrambling to my feet I stammered an answer. "Sir, yes sir!" The Sergeant paced around the room with his hands behind his back and his brow burrowed in concentration. "Now today is your final day of training, and then tomorrow will be the test." I could hear my friend Ron Weasley gasp from across the room. The Sergeant continued on, undaunted. "As you know, this test will judge whether you have passed Auror training. Also, if you pass, you can graduate with a degree." He eyed me carefully. " And if you do not pass-."
You know, it's at times like these that I wish I could have been an accountant instead.
He continued, "You will-"
BONG!
Thank God. Saved by the bell. With a curse, Sergeant Moody excused us to go to breakfast.
We ran out of that room in three seconds flat.
When we got to the breakfast hall, Ron breathed out, "I swear, that man is crazy!"
"Tell me about it," I replied, "Why didn't he retire like he said he would?"
"I dunno. It would have saved us a bit more sanity, though."
We went and got our breakfast, then sat down near our regular group of friends. I looked over to Hannah Abbot, who had just dropped her fork for the third time.
"What's up with you?" I asked, unintentionally drawing attention to ourselves.
"I'm just kind of scared about the test." She sounded a bit embarrassed.
"I guess we all are." Dean Thomas replied, adding to the conversation.
I had noticed that everyone was rather uncomfortable with the subject, so I decided to change the topic. I tore my I eyes away from the people around me and looked at Ron.
"Get a letter from Harry yet?"
"Nope," He replied. "Not since April. Guess the brat is too busy being famous and playing Quidditch to keep in contact with his friends."
"Ron, don't say things like that! You know Harry cares about us."
"Yeah, well, he does a great job showing it, doesn't he?" He retorted.
I decided to ignore this comment. The bell rang and signaled for us to go to our training. 'Great,' I thought, 'I get to get ragged on some more from Sergeant Moody. Just what I need'
We were practicing punches today, which just happened to be one of my worst areas of fighting. I looked up from the spot on the floor I had been concentrating on. When Moody gave the signal, all of the students in the classroom started their different punches. The Sergeant walked around, surveying everyone's techniques. Sometimes he would give help to the weaker students, but other times he would punish the older and stronger students who were just being lazy.
I mean, I tried to do good in punching, I really tried. But obviously 'trying' wasn't good enough.
"GRANGER, YOU CALL THAT A PUNCH!? DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME TWENTY, NOW!" Abandoning the punch bag I fell to the ground. As I pushed my body to do the push-ups, I felt his remaining foot on my back, only making it harder.
I couldn't wait until tomorrow. Then I'd finally be free of this God- forsaken hell-house.
"GRANGER, GET UP THIS INSTENT BEFORE I MAKE YOU SCRUB MY OFFICE WITH A TOOTHBRUSH!!! AND WITH NO MAGIC EITHER!" Scrambling to my feet I stammered an answer. "Sir, yes sir!" The Sergeant paced around the room with his hands behind his back and his brow burrowed in concentration. "Now today is your final day of training, and then tomorrow will be the test." I could hear my friend Ron Weasley gasp from across the room. The Sergeant continued on, undaunted. "As you know, this test will judge whether you have passed Auror training. Also, if you pass, you can graduate with a degree." He eyed me carefully. " And if you do not pass-."
You know, it's at times like these that I wish I could have been an accountant instead.
He continued, "You will-"
BONG!
Thank God. Saved by the bell. With a curse, Sergeant Moody excused us to go to breakfast.
We ran out of that room in three seconds flat.
When we got to the breakfast hall, Ron breathed out, "I swear, that man is crazy!"
"Tell me about it," I replied, "Why didn't he retire like he said he would?"
"I dunno. It would have saved us a bit more sanity, though."
We went and got our breakfast, then sat down near our regular group of friends. I looked over to Hannah Abbot, who had just dropped her fork for the third time.
"What's up with you?" I asked, unintentionally drawing attention to ourselves.
"I'm just kind of scared about the test." She sounded a bit embarrassed.
"I guess we all are." Dean Thomas replied, adding to the conversation.
I had noticed that everyone was rather uncomfortable with the subject, so I decided to change the topic. I tore my I eyes away from the people around me and looked at Ron.
"Get a letter from Harry yet?"
"Nope," He replied. "Not since April. Guess the brat is too busy being famous and playing Quidditch to keep in contact with his friends."
"Ron, don't say things like that! You know Harry cares about us."
"Yeah, well, he does a great job showing it, doesn't he?" He retorted.
I decided to ignore this comment. The bell rang and signaled for us to go to our training. 'Great,' I thought, 'I get to get ragged on some more from Sergeant Moody. Just what I need'
We were practicing punches today, which just happened to be one of my worst areas of fighting. I looked up from the spot on the floor I had been concentrating on. When Moody gave the signal, all of the students in the classroom started their different punches. The Sergeant walked around, surveying everyone's techniques. Sometimes he would give help to the weaker students, but other times he would punish the older and stronger students who were just being lazy.
I mean, I tried to do good in punching, I really tried. But obviously 'trying' wasn't good enough.
"GRANGER, YOU CALL THAT A PUNCH!? DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME TWENTY, NOW!" Abandoning the punch bag I fell to the ground. As I pushed my body to do the push-ups, I felt his remaining foot on my back, only making it harder.
I couldn't wait until tomorrow. Then I'd finally be free of this God- forsaken hell-house.