Chapter Seven
Shakeup and Breakup
Harry and Llewellyn sat in the two closest chairs to the fire, finishing schoolwork for the upcoming week. Llewellyn was explaining to Harry about Quodpot 2000, her favorite sport from home.
"There's two teams, of six players each. The Quod is a small red ball about five inches in diameter that has been enchanted to randomly flash and emit a loud scream. It used to be an altered Quaffle, but there had been an increasing number of injuries due to the fact that it would actually explode."
"Weird!" said Harry.
"So are your Bludgers. Nasty little things, aren't they? Anyway, two of each team play defense and are called Blockers. The remaining four play offense and are called Runners. But everyone calls the Blockers 'Potties' and the Runners 'Quoddies'.
When the Quod goes off, the team touching the Quod gets a Bamp. If it is in the air, it is whoever touched it last that receives the Bamp. Both Blockers and Runners are not allowed to touch the Quod in their hands. They must use semi-spheres called Shells, about seven inches in diameter, to both hold and throw the Quod. With me so far?"
"I guess."
She smiled and continued. "A point is added to a grand total by each individual Runner who catches the Quod in his or her Shell, no matter what side he or she is on. All the points in this 'grand total' are collected by the one team who throws the Quod in the Pot, and the grand total begins a new score. The game ends when a team collects five Bamps. The other team recieves an extra fifty points. That's about it."
"What position do you play?"
"I'm usually a Pottie - Defense. Just like your Keeper. Maybe Lawrence'll teach me the Loop sometime."
It was a week after the Quidditch match, but Harry still found himself getting upset over him. "Will everyone just stop talking about Lawrence, Lawrence, Lawrence?" he replied rather angrily.
"You know what, Harry?" Llewellyn said with a sudden coldness. "I think you're being selfish."
That was the absolute end of his rope. "Selfish? Me!? I spend my summers getting yelled at or ignored or tormented, with little food, no friends, and next to no contact with the wizarding world!"
She turned on him. "Do you want to know how I spend my summers? I spend my summers at school because my parents are too busy to have me come home!"
"My parents are dead!!" Harry screamed.
"And I bet you anything they loved you anyway! Mine are alive and I know that they don't!!!" Her face was livid as she stood up and ran to the doorway. "It's over, Harry, it's over!"
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"I'm going to someone who understands. Someone who cares more about me than you ever could!!"
She turned around and said one more thing before slamming the portrait against the doorway.
"Malfoy!!!"
The whole common room was in shock along with Harry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Llewellyn stormed along the hallways, nearly shaking in her anger. This wasn't the first time Harry had got on her nerves, but she would be sure to make it the last time. She tore through a tapestry and began up a flight of spiral stairs before she realized she had no way of getting to Malfoy. They would meet tonight at the balcony like they did every Saturday after dinner, but he could be anywhere in the school at the moment.
She sat down on the top step. What she really needed, almost more than someone to talk to, was something from home to comfort her. Suddenly, she remembered a place where she could get both.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Matthew Visilio was grading papers on Unforgivable Curses and listening to his favorite rock band, The Lethifold Losers, when there came a knock on his office door. "Come in," he called, not looking up.
Llewellyn ran in, looking lost and awfully sad. "Oh, Professor Visilio, I -"
He looked up and saw her flustered, teary-eyed face. "Please, just call me Matt for now." Standing up from his desk, he turned off his music. "Is there a problem?" He shook his head and walked in front of his desk, motioning for her to take a seat. "Well, of course there is. Stupid question. 'Sup?"
"Well...my boyfriend and I just broke up."
Matt grimaced and sat down next to her.
"It was horrible. I can't believe myself. We were screaming at each other, and somehow our parents got into it. His are dead - I just feel terrible!" She started sobbing and put her face in her hands. "...And, I'm homesick. How stupid is that?"
He shrugged. "It's not stupid. To tell you the truth, so am I." He looked at the floor as she wiped her face on her robes. "Hey, Llewellyn. How about tonight we have a little party for ourselves?" She looked at him strangely. "How long has it been since you've had a real cheeseburger or french fries?"
Llewellyn grinned. "Too long, of course!"
Matt took out his wand, and with a quick flick, suddenly festooned the office with red and white streamers and blue and white stars. "I think Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures Teacher, has a grill somewhere. Let's go visit him, shall we?"
Llewellyn left the office practically buoyant, all thoughts of Harry or Malfoy out of her head entirely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry was fuming. He stared at the back of the Fat Lady's portrait and turned, shaking, to the rest of the common room. It wasn't as full as it usually was but there were still a fat lot of people. They all looked at him, some blinking furiously and most with mouths agape. There was silence. He flayed his arms in a helpless shrug and turned angrily to the homework he and Llewellyn had left behind. The regular low buzz of the room resumed.
He threw himself into the chair and put his head in his hands. Malfoy. Malfoy! So she did run after him at the dance, the tramp. Well, it was all over anyway, and under no circumstances was it a case of her solely dumping him.
Malfoy!
Harry looked around desperately for some sign of relief, but Ron and Hermione had skipped off earlier in the day to parts unknown. He didn't know when they would be back and he didn't feel like waiting for them. Angrily, he shoveled all his homework into his bag and stormed into the dormitory. He was sorely tempted to throw Llewellyn's report on the Stolidus Hex into the fire but decided to just leave it in a pile on the floor.
He thanked his lucky stars the dormitory was empty and prayed no one would come in. Throwing himself onto the bed, he buried his face into his pillow and hoped that he wasn't crying. Ill thoughts swirled through his head. How could Llewellyn do that to him? Rotten to the core, both of them.
Upset, are we?
"I don't want to talk."
Now, now. What are we worked up over?
"Go away."
My, we are tense.
"Shut up!"
Don't you wish you hadn't brought your parents into it?
Harry sat up and looked down at his backpack. The Handbook was lying on top, and he was sure it was lodged securely between 1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi and a stack of parchment just a minute ago, when he had brought it up.
"How do you know about my parents?"
I know more about your parents than you do, Harry Potter.
The quiet throb of the headache swelled into a sharp pain.
Do you want to see something?
Harry knew he should have said no instantly, but something stopped him. Not sure if he was under his own power or if he being guided, he leaned forward and picked up the Handbook.
"What is it?" he asked the snake.
Watch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The room was yellow, dimly lit by a latern blazing low in the corner. She rocked the cradle but the child would not stop whimpering, as if it were an animal cornered by a vicious predator. Tenderly, she lifted her son out of the cradle and rocked him in his arms. A gate creaked outside ominously in the wind, and she felt afraid.
"James?" He appeared in the hall, looking concerned and a little worried. "I know it's just the wind, but could you please just go check the front gate for me?" He nodded in understandment and began to walk down the stairs, his hand securely wrapped around the mahogany wand in his pocket.
He did not get a chance to open the front door, for it was suddenly blown off its hinges in a blast of greenish-gold light. A tall man in a black cloak thundered into the house as an evil wind blew from the doorway.
"James!" she screamed, holding the baby tight in her grip.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Harry!"
With a start Harry jumped up. He was bathed in a cold sweat and his breath came in short gasps. The four-posters of his dormitory appeared and Neville was there, his normally pale face looking positively pasty.
"Harry, are you all right?"
He blinked a couple of times and instinctively shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He felt something wet beneath his finger and Neville gasped.
"Oh, Harry...your scar...it's bleeding..."
"What?" He ran to the mirror, and, sure enough, his normally pale reddish- white scar was scarlet and dripping all over his forehead. "Oh, man..." He grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on Dean's wardrobe and mopped his brow.
"I heard what happened," began Neville.
"Just...now...?"
"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "That must have been horrible."
Harry realized he was talking about what had happened in the common room, and wondered where the Handbook was. He looked around quickly but it was no where to be seen.
"So I came up, to talk if you wanted to, and you were just...well, you were just kind of thrashing about on your bed. It looked like you were having a nightmare. Did you mind that I woke you?"
"No, it's okay. Thanks, actually." Harry looked down at the bloodied tissues and shook his head in disbelief. It was just so weird...Malfoy...and now this....
"Well, if you don't want to talk...I guess, I'll just go." Neville looked awkward for a moment and turned to leave. Just before he disappeared, he turned and looked back at Harry.
"Nice Snitch catch last week." He grinned and shut the door.
Shakeup and Breakup
Harry and Llewellyn sat in the two closest chairs to the fire, finishing schoolwork for the upcoming week. Llewellyn was explaining to Harry about Quodpot 2000, her favorite sport from home.
"There's two teams, of six players each. The Quod is a small red ball about five inches in diameter that has been enchanted to randomly flash and emit a loud scream. It used to be an altered Quaffle, but there had been an increasing number of injuries due to the fact that it would actually explode."
"Weird!" said Harry.
"So are your Bludgers. Nasty little things, aren't they? Anyway, two of each team play defense and are called Blockers. The remaining four play offense and are called Runners. But everyone calls the Blockers 'Potties' and the Runners 'Quoddies'.
When the Quod goes off, the team touching the Quod gets a Bamp. If it is in the air, it is whoever touched it last that receives the Bamp. Both Blockers and Runners are not allowed to touch the Quod in their hands. They must use semi-spheres called Shells, about seven inches in diameter, to both hold and throw the Quod. With me so far?"
"I guess."
She smiled and continued. "A point is added to a grand total by each individual Runner who catches the Quod in his or her Shell, no matter what side he or she is on. All the points in this 'grand total' are collected by the one team who throws the Quod in the Pot, and the grand total begins a new score. The game ends when a team collects five Bamps. The other team recieves an extra fifty points. That's about it."
"What position do you play?"
"I'm usually a Pottie - Defense. Just like your Keeper. Maybe Lawrence'll teach me the Loop sometime."
It was a week after the Quidditch match, but Harry still found himself getting upset over him. "Will everyone just stop talking about Lawrence, Lawrence, Lawrence?" he replied rather angrily.
"You know what, Harry?" Llewellyn said with a sudden coldness. "I think you're being selfish."
That was the absolute end of his rope. "Selfish? Me!? I spend my summers getting yelled at or ignored or tormented, with little food, no friends, and next to no contact with the wizarding world!"
She turned on him. "Do you want to know how I spend my summers? I spend my summers at school because my parents are too busy to have me come home!"
"My parents are dead!!" Harry screamed.
"And I bet you anything they loved you anyway! Mine are alive and I know that they don't!!!" Her face was livid as she stood up and ran to the doorway. "It's over, Harry, it's over!"
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"I'm going to someone who understands. Someone who cares more about me than you ever could!!"
She turned around and said one more thing before slamming the portrait against the doorway.
"Malfoy!!!"
The whole common room was in shock along with Harry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Llewellyn stormed along the hallways, nearly shaking in her anger. This wasn't the first time Harry had got on her nerves, but she would be sure to make it the last time. She tore through a tapestry and began up a flight of spiral stairs before she realized she had no way of getting to Malfoy. They would meet tonight at the balcony like they did every Saturday after dinner, but he could be anywhere in the school at the moment.
She sat down on the top step. What she really needed, almost more than someone to talk to, was something from home to comfort her. Suddenly, she remembered a place where she could get both.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Matthew Visilio was grading papers on Unforgivable Curses and listening to his favorite rock band, The Lethifold Losers, when there came a knock on his office door. "Come in," he called, not looking up.
Llewellyn ran in, looking lost and awfully sad. "Oh, Professor Visilio, I -"
He looked up and saw her flustered, teary-eyed face. "Please, just call me Matt for now." Standing up from his desk, he turned off his music. "Is there a problem?" He shook his head and walked in front of his desk, motioning for her to take a seat. "Well, of course there is. Stupid question. 'Sup?"
"Well...my boyfriend and I just broke up."
Matt grimaced and sat down next to her.
"It was horrible. I can't believe myself. We were screaming at each other, and somehow our parents got into it. His are dead - I just feel terrible!" She started sobbing and put her face in her hands. "...And, I'm homesick. How stupid is that?"
He shrugged. "It's not stupid. To tell you the truth, so am I." He looked at the floor as she wiped her face on her robes. "Hey, Llewellyn. How about tonight we have a little party for ourselves?" She looked at him strangely. "How long has it been since you've had a real cheeseburger or french fries?"
Llewellyn grinned. "Too long, of course!"
Matt took out his wand, and with a quick flick, suddenly festooned the office with red and white streamers and blue and white stars. "I think Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures Teacher, has a grill somewhere. Let's go visit him, shall we?"
Llewellyn left the office practically buoyant, all thoughts of Harry or Malfoy out of her head entirely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry was fuming. He stared at the back of the Fat Lady's portrait and turned, shaking, to the rest of the common room. It wasn't as full as it usually was but there were still a fat lot of people. They all looked at him, some blinking furiously and most with mouths agape. There was silence. He flayed his arms in a helpless shrug and turned angrily to the homework he and Llewellyn had left behind. The regular low buzz of the room resumed.
He threw himself into the chair and put his head in his hands. Malfoy. Malfoy! So she did run after him at the dance, the tramp. Well, it was all over anyway, and under no circumstances was it a case of her solely dumping him.
Malfoy!
Harry looked around desperately for some sign of relief, but Ron and Hermione had skipped off earlier in the day to parts unknown. He didn't know when they would be back and he didn't feel like waiting for them. Angrily, he shoveled all his homework into his bag and stormed into the dormitory. He was sorely tempted to throw Llewellyn's report on the Stolidus Hex into the fire but decided to just leave it in a pile on the floor.
He thanked his lucky stars the dormitory was empty and prayed no one would come in. Throwing himself onto the bed, he buried his face into his pillow and hoped that he wasn't crying. Ill thoughts swirled through his head. How could Llewellyn do that to him? Rotten to the core, both of them.
Upset, are we?
"I don't want to talk."
Now, now. What are we worked up over?
"Go away."
My, we are tense.
"Shut up!"
Don't you wish you hadn't brought your parents into it?
Harry sat up and looked down at his backpack. The Handbook was lying on top, and he was sure it was lodged securely between 1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi and a stack of parchment just a minute ago, when he had brought it up.
"How do you know about my parents?"
I know more about your parents than you do, Harry Potter.
The quiet throb of the headache swelled into a sharp pain.
Do you want to see something?
Harry knew he should have said no instantly, but something stopped him. Not sure if he was under his own power or if he being guided, he leaned forward and picked up the Handbook.
"What is it?" he asked the snake.
Watch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The room was yellow, dimly lit by a latern blazing low in the corner. She rocked the cradle but the child would not stop whimpering, as if it were an animal cornered by a vicious predator. Tenderly, she lifted her son out of the cradle and rocked him in his arms. A gate creaked outside ominously in the wind, and she felt afraid.
"James?" He appeared in the hall, looking concerned and a little worried. "I know it's just the wind, but could you please just go check the front gate for me?" He nodded in understandment and began to walk down the stairs, his hand securely wrapped around the mahogany wand in his pocket.
He did not get a chance to open the front door, for it was suddenly blown off its hinges in a blast of greenish-gold light. A tall man in a black cloak thundered into the house as an evil wind blew from the doorway.
"James!" she screamed, holding the baby tight in her grip.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Harry!"
With a start Harry jumped up. He was bathed in a cold sweat and his breath came in short gasps. The four-posters of his dormitory appeared and Neville was there, his normally pale face looking positively pasty.
"Harry, are you all right?"
He blinked a couple of times and instinctively shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He felt something wet beneath his finger and Neville gasped.
"Oh, Harry...your scar...it's bleeding..."
"What?" He ran to the mirror, and, sure enough, his normally pale reddish- white scar was scarlet and dripping all over his forehead. "Oh, man..." He grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on Dean's wardrobe and mopped his brow.
"I heard what happened," began Neville.
"Just...now...?"
"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "That must have been horrible."
Harry realized he was talking about what had happened in the common room, and wondered where the Handbook was. He looked around quickly but it was no where to be seen.
"So I came up, to talk if you wanted to, and you were just...well, you were just kind of thrashing about on your bed. It looked like you were having a nightmare. Did you mind that I woke you?"
"No, it's okay. Thanks, actually." Harry looked down at the bloodied tissues and shook his head in disbelief. It was just so weird...Malfoy...and now this....
"Well, if you don't want to talk...I guess, I'll just go." Neville looked awkward for a moment and turned to leave. Just before he disappeared, he turned and looked back at Harry.
"Nice Snitch catch last week." He grinned and shut the door.