A/N: none of the here depicted characters are mine, and blah blah blah.
*sigh* I do wish I figured out how to write in italics and how NOT to skip lines every time.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Unfortunately, I'm in a hurry (damn papers) and have no time to name everybody. but I appreciate it just the same!
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It was Saturday morning, and every student in Gryffindor tower was gratefully enjoying the few extra hours of sleep they could get on week- ends. Even over-zealous Oliver Wood appeared to be staying in bed - a decision most of his roommates were sure to appreciate, as he was always up before anyone else and made a great deal of noise every morning (not to mention the fact he would usually wake them all up, asking if they'd seen his broomstick; which ended up always being in the same place under his bed). But today, everything was still and silent in the sixth years' dormitory.
A white owl flew in through the window just as six o'clock rang in Hogsmeade and settled itself on Oliver's night table, waiting for him to wake up. Half a second later, the owl was thrown off the table as a red envelope on Oliver's night table exploded, filling the room with smoke and a puff of burnt wings. Oliver jumped three feet high in his bed and bounced off of it, dragging his blankets and pillows in his fall. A deafening voice filled the whole room, the whole tower, the whole castle, ten times as loud the worst Howler Oliver had ever received.
"OLIVER. THIS IS A REPRESENTATIVE OF YOUR QUIDDITCH TEAM SPEAKING. HERE ARE OUR NEW TERMS -"
Everyone in the dormitory had of course woken up when the envelope had exploded, and were now vainly trying to plug their ears with their hands and pillows. Some had disappeared under their bed. All of them were throwing looks of pure venom at the source of the trouble: the bloody Quidditch captain, as always.
"- DEMAND PRACTICE SCHEDULE TO BE REVIEWED UNTIL IT SUITS ALL PLAYERS."
By now, half of Gryffindor Tower was awake, and, having easily located the source of the commotion, had come up to the sixth years' dormitory to find out what was going on. A dozen or so students, whose curiosity had overcome their common sense (which told them to turn right back around and flee the thunderous noise), were standing in the doorway, some of them crouched low to the ground in case there was any danger.
"- WILL NOT PUT UP WITH ANY PRACTICE SESSIONS THAT ARE NOT PROGRAMMED IN SAID SCHEDULE. ANY POTENTIAL CHANGES OF SCHEDULE SHOULD BE COMMUNICATED TO THE TEAM AT LEAST TEN DAYS IN ADVANCE AND MUST BE APPROVED BY -"
My wand, thought Oliver desperately. Must reach my wand. He was still sprawled on the ground by his bed, entangled in his blankets and unable to reach his wand, which had rolled a few feet away from him. He was just about to free his arm and reach out for it when a ball of no-longer-white feathers swooped down on him and started furiously biting and pulling his skin and hair and beating its wings at him, clearly enraged at resembling a new-born vulture instead of its superb snowy-white self.
After a fierce struggle which ended with Oliver using his Beater technique to get rid of his owl, he finally managed to get hold of his wand, and immediately conjured a pair of thick earmuffs he gratefully settled over his ears. He then turned towards the envelope, which was floating right under the ceiling, still hollering away. He took aim carefully and shouted, "Silencio!" and grinned in satisfaction as the thunderous voice died immediately.
However, his victory was short, as a hundred and more miniature Bludgers shot out of the envelope in every direction the moment the spell touched it. And over the whistling sound of the Bludgers and the cries of panic of his roommates, Oliver clearly distinguished a huge outburst of laughter coming from the door: he had time enough to catch a glimpse of the Weasley twins' heads grinning malevolently before a minute Bludger darted right into his eye, followed by half a dozen others.
"Aaaaaaargh!"
He beat his hands in the air, trying to get the balls away from him, and was suddenly slapped in the face by a hand that was definitely not his: his roommates were attacking him! They had grabbed their pillows, wands, broomsticks, books, and anything that was at hand reach and both light enough to throw and heavy enough to knock someone out, and seemed determined to wreck deadly revenge over the one person who was responsible for all their misadventures. Running for dear life, Wood jumped over his bed, jerked his trunk open, pulled a Beater's club out of it, and started frantically swishing it around at Bludgers and students alike.
The whole Quidditch team was now at the door, contemplating the mayhem in their captain's room with both horror and amusement. Harry let his forehead drop into his hands, shaking his head. "This is not what was planned."
Meanwhile, Wood had finally managed to neutralise what was left of the minute Bludgers, and as his skill as a Beater was reputed to outstrip his Keeper talents, his roommates started slowly backing away from the club he was still holding in his hand.
Everything went silent as Wood turned towards the door, his knuckles as white as his face, eyes bulging, looking slightly mad. Fred and George stopped laughing at once. They watched apprehensively as their captain gritted his teeth, opened his mouth, swallowed hard, clutched the club convulsively, and finally extended a shaking finger at his team.
"Extra training!" he bellowed. "Everyone out on the field! NOW!"
Fred opened his mouth at once, probably to say one of the terms they had just mentioned in the Howler was banning extra practice, but was prevented from doing so as all three Chasers and Harry rounded on the twins, looking as menacing as Wood.
"Wh- what?" stuttered George, a would-be confident smile on his lips. "We agreed to tell him first thing in the morning. didn't we?"
*sigh* I do wish I figured out how to write in italics and how NOT to skip lines every time.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Unfortunately, I'm in a hurry (damn papers) and have no time to name everybody. but I appreciate it just the same!
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
It was Saturday morning, and every student in Gryffindor tower was gratefully enjoying the few extra hours of sleep they could get on week- ends. Even over-zealous Oliver Wood appeared to be staying in bed - a decision most of his roommates were sure to appreciate, as he was always up before anyone else and made a great deal of noise every morning (not to mention the fact he would usually wake them all up, asking if they'd seen his broomstick; which ended up always being in the same place under his bed). But today, everything was still and silent in the sixth years' dormitory.
A white owl flew in through the window just as six o'clock rang in Hogsmeade and settled itself on Oliver's night table, waiting for him to wake up. Half a second later, the owl was thrown off the table as a red envelope on Oliver's night table exploded, filling the room with smoke and a puff of burnt wings. Oliver jumped three feet high in his bed and bounced off of it, dragging his blankets and pillows in his fall. A deafening voice filled the whole room, the whole tower, the whole castle, ten times as loud the worst Howler Oliver had ever received.
"OLIVER. THIS IS A REPRESENTATIVE OF YOUR QUIDDITCH TEAM SPEAKING. HERE ARE OUR NEW TERMS -"
Everyone in the dormitory had of course woken up when the envelope had exploded, and were now vainly trying to plug their ears with their hands and pillows. Some had disappeared under their bed. All of them were throwing looks of pure venom at the source of the trouble: the bloody Quidditch captain, as always.
"- DEMAND PRACTICE SCHEDULE TO BE REVIEWED UNTIL IT SUITS ALL PLAYERS."
By now, half of Gryffindor Tower was awake, and, having easily located the source of the commotion, had come up to the sixth years' dormitory to find out what was going on. A dozen or so students, whose curiosity had overcome their common sense (which told them to turn right back around and flee the thunderous noise), were standing in the doorway, some of them crouched low to the ground in case there was any danger.
"- WILL NOT PUT UP WITH ANY PRACTICE SESSIONS THAT ARE NOT PROGRAMMED IN SAID SCHEDULE. ANY POTENTIAL CHANGES OF SCHEDULE SHOULD BE COMMUNICATED TO THE TEAM AT LEAST TEN DAYS IN ADVANCE AND MUST BE APPROVED BY -"
My wand, thought Oliver desperately. Must reach my wand. He was still sprawled on the ground by his bed, entangled in his blankets and unable to reach his wand, which had rolled a few feet away from him. He was just about to free his arm and reach out for it when a ball of no-longer-white feathers swooped down on him and started furiously biting and pulling his skin and hair and beating its wings at him, clearly enraged at resembling a new-born vulture instead of its superb snowy-white self.
After a fierce struggle which ended with Oliver using his Beater technique to get rid of his owl, he finally managed to get hold of his wand, and immediately conjured a pair of thick earmuffs he gratefully settled over his ears. He then turned towards the envelope, which was floating right under the ceiling, still hollering away. He took aim carefully and shouted, "Silencio!" and grinned in satisfaction as the thunderous voice died immediately.
However, his victory was short, as a hundred and more miniature Bludgers shot out of the envelope in every direction the moment the spell touched it. And over the whistling sound of the Bludgers and the cries of panic of his roommates, Oliver clearly distinguished a huge outburst of laughter coming from the door: he had time enough to catch a glimpse of the Weasley twins' heads grinning malevolently before a minute Bludger darted right into his eye, followed by half a dozen others.
"Aaaaaaargh!"
He beat his hands in the air, trying to get the balls away from him, and was suddenly slapped in the face by a hand that was definitely not his: his roommates were attacking him! They had grabbed their pillows, wands, broomsticks, books, and anything that was at hand reach and both light enough to throw and heavy enough to knock someone out, and seemed determined to wreck deadly revenge over the one person who was responsible for all their misadventures. Running for dear life, Wood jumped over his bed, jerked his trunk open, pulled a Beater's club out of it, and started frantically swishing it around at Bludgers and students alike.
The whole Quidditch team was now at the door, contemplating the mayhem in their captain's room with both horror and amusement. Harry let his forehead drop into his hands, shaking his head. "This is not what was planned."
Meanwhile, Wood had finally managed to neutralise what was left of the minute Bludgers, and as his skill as a Beater was reputed to outstrip his Keeper talents, his roommates started slowly backing away from the club he was still holding in his hand.
Everything went silent as Wood turned towards the door, his knuckles as white as his face, eyes bulging, looking slightly mad. Fred and George stopped laughing at once. They watched apprehensively as their captain gritted his teeth, opened his mouth, swallowed hard, clutched the club convulsively, and finally extended a shaking finger at his team.
"Extra training!" he bellowed. "Everyone out on the field! NOW!"
Fred opened his mouth at once, probably to say one of the terms they had just mentioned in the Howler was banning extra practice, but was prevented from doing so as all three Chasers and Harry rounded on the twins, looking as menacing as Wood.
"Wh- what?" stuttered George, a would-be confident smile on his lips. "We agreed to tell him first thing in the morning. didn't we?"