Screening part four

They had run out of Gummi Bears. In itself, this would not have been such a bad thing, but Hermione had made inroads on Harry's M&Ms in the absence of Gummi Bears, and Harry was beginning to lose patience. What was wrong with her? It was just Snape. Admittedly, a rather more attractive Snape than the one they were used to, but still recognizably their potions master. Why was Hermione being all twitchy about him?

Harry reclaimed his M&Ms and stared stonily at the screen, which was showing the vast atrium of Hogwarts, criscrossed with staircases. One of them suddenly moved.

"Hey," said Ron. "It's not like that. Not really. It'd be too easy to fall off one of those and go splat on the entrance hall floor, they'd never have that sort of setup in the real world."

"Looks good, though," said Malfoy. "Look, the Muggles are all impressed, how sweet."

He was right. All around them, the Muggle families were pointing and going "ooooh" in surprised admiration. Harry sighed.

"Pity they don't know what it's really like," he said absently.

Malfoy gave him a few seconds of the direct grey eyes. "Potter, think about it. The further from the truth they are, the better." He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. "Now shut up and watch, you're about to do something stupid."

"We are not," said Ron. Malfoy sniggered.

"Sneaking around in the verboten third floor? Oh, yes, very wise, Weasley. I wouldn't be surprised if you got eaten by something."

Ron scowled at him. "Be a short film, wouldn't it?"

"Indeed."

On the screen, Harry, Hermione and Ron crept down a rather chthonic-looking corridor illuminated by torches that flared to life as they approached. Out of the shadows crept a cat whose eyes had been altered to appear red. She sat down on the floor and stared at them, and said in a very unpleasant way, "Meow."

"It's Filch's cat!"

"Run," said Harry. They ran, noisily.

"Ah, Mrs. Norris," said Malfoy dreamily. "When I think of all the times you got the dream team into trouble...or prevented them from running about the school after hours....or got Harry accused of being the heir of Slytherin..."

"Bloody mangy little mog," muttered Ron. "I never did like cats."

The trio on the screen had taken refuge behind a door Hermione had unlocked with "Alohomora." The real Hermione cringed a bit in her seat as the girl playing her rolled her eyes in ineffable superiority, but everyone's attention was quickly directed at the gigantic three-headed dog on whom the three children had intruded.

"Fluffy!" Ron said. Both Harry and Hermione shuddered at the memory. "He's too big. The one we met was about half that size. Still well scary, though."

"My," drawled Malfoy. "How exciting your first year was, to be sure. Why aren't they showing more of me?"

"Because you're a horrible little ferrety pillock," said Ron distractedly. "Wait, how are we supposed to have gotten back down to the Gryffindor dorms with the staircases doing that weird moving thing?"

"Suspend your disbelief," Hermione told him. Her avatar, on the screen, put her little hands on her hips and fixed the boys with an air of being put-upon.

"Now," she said sniffily, "if you don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you comes up with any more brilliant ways to get us all killed. Or worse, expelled." She turned, in a whirl of frizzled hair, and flounced into the girls' dorm. Ron, on the stairs, looked at Harry.

"She really needs to work on her priorities," he said. The real Ron grinned.

"Heh! One for me, eh, Harry? Look at that, I was witty!"

Hermione groaned. "God, was I that awful? Did I really talk like that?"

"Er," said Harry. "Sort of. You did a lot of "Hmmmph"-ing and you tended to walk about with your nose in the air, but your voice wasn't that high."

"Good," said Hermione in a small voice. Malfoy gave her a glance, but surprisingly passed over the chance to stick in a verbal barb.

The scene shifted to an exterior shot of Harry and an older boy—Wood—lugging a box out onto the grass. Wood opened it to reveal what were apparently supposed to be Quidditch balls. "Wot?" demanded the real Harry. "If that's a Quaffle it looks like someone's taken great scoops out of it, it's not round at all!"

"Ten points to Potter for stating the obvious," said Malfoy, looking at the screen between his long lashes. "By the way, Potty, what are you doing out of school uniform? Look, not a sign of a badge or a tie."

"Maybe they just happen to like the way I look in, uh, casual dress."

Malfoy sniggered. "You keep telling yourself that."

Hermione was staring at the Wood-boy, consideringly. "Hmmm," she said. "Uh, Harry, did Wood really look like that? I remember him as being sort of nondescript and muscular."

"Now that you mention it," said Harry, "no. That kid's far too attractive to be Wood. Note to self; complain about casting choices."

Ron said nothing. Malfoy shot him a glance and was rewarded with a look of burning dislike before Ron went back to staring at the screen Oliver. A little smile crept over Malfoy's face, and he settled back to watch.

The movie Harry and the movie Oliver were progressing through the contents of the Quidditch trunk. Malfoy watched with interest as Oliver freed one of the Bludgers, which immediately careened up into the sky with a faint muttering noise. It described a lovely parabola before heading back down towards the two boys on the grass.

"...go on, hit him, hit him, hit him..."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

The screen-Harry thwacked the Bludger, which flew neatly through the crossed swords of a statue and circled around for another go. Harry frowned. "I don't remember it being quite like that," he said, but just then Oliver leapt at the Bludger and all four of them leaned forward in their seats in horrified anticipation. However, far from breaking all of his ribs, the Bludger was neatly caught and slotted back into its holder in the trunk. Hermione, Harry and Ron let out sighs of relief; Malfoy sighed in annoyance and leaned back. Oliver was talking.

"You're a Seeker," he said, in a delicious accent. "The only thing I want you to worry about is....this." He plucked a little golden ball from a special socket in the trunk. "The Golden Snitch."

Harry held out his hand, and the Snitch was placed on it. Suddenly little insectile wings unwrapped themselves from it, and it lifted off, buzzing.

"What the hell?" said Ron. "That's not a Snitch. That's a big golden fly!"

"The wings are wrong," agreed Harry. "They ought to be little silvery bird wings. That looks more like a fat golden cicada than a fly, though."

"Insect," Ron conceded. "And why the hell'd he let it go if you've not got a broom to catch it on?"

"Pillock," said Malfoy comfortably. "Attractive, but a pillock."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

The scene shifted to another of the dingy classrooms. A tiny teacher with rather wild hair perched atop a huge pile of books at the front of the classroom. "Flitwick," said Hermione. "Who else could it be?"

Indeed, it was Flitwick, as they found out. He began to lecture about Levitation. They noticed that there were white ostrich feathers laid out in front of every pair of students. "Did we do Levitation our first day of classes with Flitwick?" Ron asked absently.

"Don't think so. I don't honestly remember."

"Oh, I remember this lesson," said Hermione brightly. "Wingardium Leviosa. Quite easy really."

On the screen, Malfoy pointed his wand at the feather and intoned "Wingardium Leviosa," which elicited no movement at all from the feather. The real Malfoy smacked his forehead. "Jeez," he muttered. "I sound like a total moron."

"Yeah, you do, Malfoy," said Ron, but shut up when the screen-Ron ended up whacking the feather repeatedly with his wand. Hermione, next to him, caught his wand, and gave him another one of those rolling-eye condescending looks.

"You're going to put someone's eye out," she drawled. "Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Wingardium Leviosa."

"You do it then, if you're so clever," snapped Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes again ("You'd think they'd come out of her head, wouldn't you?" said Malfoy) and swish-flicked her wand at the feather.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she said, and the feather floated lightly into the air with the motion of her wand. The screen-Flitwick applauded her ability. In the theater, all three boys turned to Hermione and glared.

"What?" she demanded. "I wasn't really that horrid, was I? I mean, all I did was pronounce the words right, it's not like...Ow! Malfoy, you little bastard, quit throwing things at me!"

"That was me, actually," said Harry, beaning her with a second M&M. "Wingardium Leviosa indeed." Malfoy cackled, but was rewarded with an elbow in his already-bruised ribs.

"Shut up, you lot," said Hermione. "Watch the movie."

The class had let out, and Harry paced with Ron across the courtyard. Ron was clearly bitching about Hermione. "Honestly," he said. "She's a nightmare." From behind them, Hermione hurried past, sniffling.

"You bastard," said Hermione absently. "I remember that now. You were so bloody obnoxious. Just because I was good at school..."

"Oooh," said Malfoy nastily, "trouble in the Dream Team's ranks? My my, I never would have thought you'd be so cruel to one of your own, Weasel."

"Shut up, Malfoy. That was ages ago. We made friends, remember? Friends. Not like you." Ron glared at Malfoy, who flicked a green M&M at him with an angelic smile.

"Ah yes," said Malfoy. "I recall. You and your friends."

"Shut up, the lot of you," said Harry, who was getting tired of it. "The troll bit's coming up, and I want to see how the Muggle illusionists manage that. Everyone knows Muggles don't know anything about trolls."

"They seem to know a great deal about you, though, don't they, Weasel?" inquired Malfoy.

"Malfoy, I'm warning you," said Ron, who was looking at the screen. "One more crack like that and your head is going to be introduced to the floor. At speed."

"He's right, you know," said Harry. "I'm not sure I can hold him back, once you get him riled up. It's the red hair. Redheads always have awful tempers."

Malfoy toed the floor apprehensively. It was sticky.

"Fine," he said after a while. "But don't think you've won yet, Weasley. Oh no. Not by a long shot."

They leaned back and watched as the Halloween Ball began.