Amnesia Amigoes- Chapter EIGHT
Previously on 'Amnesia Amigoes': Harry met (and annoyed) Moaning Myrtle, freaked out on the moving staircases and made it to the Great Hall in time for spaghetti bolognaise night. Draco complained about Harry too loudly again, and was hung by the chandelier for his troubles. Harry shared his food with his friends.
*Divination class*
It was a beautiful, clear Monday morning, and Harry and Ron were sitting through a Divination lesson. (Harry had been released from the hospital wing under a promise that he would try to behave himself. A promise, which he conveniently forgot.) Today, they were being taught how to predict the future using rice. Ron didn't believe that it could be done. Rice couldn't show the future anymore than last night's spaghetti bolognaise could, in his opinion. He shuddered at the memory of the spaghetti, reaching up to check his hair again.
"Remember, the pattern in which the rice falls determines the prediction," Professor Trelawney reminded them in a misty voice. "And don't disrupt the rice once it has fallen, or else the prediction will be false."
Ron rolled his eyes, and threw his rice on the ground. He then stared at the tiny grains amazed, all of his disbelieving flying out of the window. It couldn't be. Not…money? This must work after all, he thought. Ron looked closely, hardly daring to breathe in case he disrupted the rice. Suddenly a hand came out of nowhere and messed up the rice thoroughly.
"Pretty!" yelled Harry as Ron glared at him. He knew that he shouldn't be angry, it wasn't Harry's fault, but he couldn't help himself. There went all his chances of finally having some money. Professor Trelawney came over to them, upset by the sudden outburst. Harry's eyes widened, and he grabbed some rice, threw it frantically on the floor and started screaming about death omens. Much happier, the teacher walked over to where Neville had managed to stuff everything up again. Ron eyed Harry suspiciously.
"Oh crap," thought Harry. "He suspects something…better act stupid quick."
Harry grinned vacantly at Ron, then started jumping up and down on his pouffe, yelling nonsensical rubbish about purple pugs and upside-down candles. Ron's suspicions faded, and he just sighed resignedly as he pulled Harry off the pouffe. Harry just grinned broadly at him, then ate a handful of the rice.
"Note to self - never eat raw rice again," Harry thought.
*Potions*
After Divination, Harry and Ron headed towards the dungeons for Potions, where they met Hermione. She was grinning stupidly, and going on and on about how wonderful it was that she had so much Arithmancy homework. Ron ignored her, but Harry threw some of his rice at her, which he still had clenched in his fist. Hermione was about to say something, annoyed, when Professor Snape walked out of the classroom and called them all inside.
Once the lesson was well underway, Snape surveyed the class with his usual expression of there's-a-pole-up-my-arse-and-an-unpleasant-smell-under-my-nose-but-I won't-say-anything-just-yet. He'd just asked a question, and so far no one was answering it. Well, Hermione was waving her hand around in the air like a ninny, but there was no way he was calling on her. He looked at Draco.
"Draco? Can you answer it?" he asked. Draco lifted his head off the desk, revealing his puffy-eyed, depressed expression to the world.
"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore. Why doesn't she like me? What's wrong with me????" he yelled mournfully, shooting Hermione a Look and bursting into heart wrenching sobs. Hermione didn't notice. All the Slytherins sighed and shifted away from Malfoy- he'd been going on like this for ages. They found it rather annoying. Snape frowned, then his eyes fell on Harry. Harry smiled blankly at him while batting at Hermione's hand like a kitten. She struggled not to slap him.
"Potter?" he asked dangerously. Harry looked around comically.
"Who?" he asked. His quill just shrugged.
"Drip drip," said the tap.
Snape frowned.
"I asked you a question," he said in a silky voice. Ron eyed Harry and Snape nervously. Harry continued to stare back at Snape vacantly.
"My name is Harry, and they're Bob and boB," he suddenly announced, waving his hands at the class in turn. Snape stared at him for a moment, then looked away…without taking any points away from Gryffindor! Harry struggled to conceal his amazement.
"I can't believe that actually worked," thought Harry. "I'm going to try it in every potions lesson from now on."
"Hmmmmm... Maybe I'll pretend to lose my memory too..." thought Neville.
"Oh shit, how does he know what I'm thinking?!!!!!!! Quick, act dopey!!" Harry crossed his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and leapt onto his desk.
"What are you doing, Potter?!!!!!!" yelled Snape, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"I'm not Potter, I'm Harry!!!! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" screamed Harry, running around pretending he was an aeroplane. Harry had never realised just how fun pretending was, he'd never really done it before. He jumped from table to table, spilling several cauldrons and getting footprints all over people's books, all while yelling "Yeeeeeeeeeehaw!" repeatedly.
"50 points from Gryffindor." said Snape silkily. Draco stopped sobbing long enough to sneer at the Gryffindors, and then buried his face in his hands again, wailing wretchedly.
"Shit," thought Harry. "I went too far." He stopped running around and sat back down, though kept mumbling "Yeeeeeeeeeehaw" under his breath. Ron tried valiantly not to empty his cauldron over Harry's head.
The rest of the lesson went fairly well (Draco attempted to drown himself in his cauldron, so the lesson finished early…much to Hermione's dismay), and Harry was about to begin his next bout of mischief when he felt a hand grab him roughly on the arm. Harry spun around to face Oliver Wood.
"I realize that you have amnesia, but we have a Quidditch match on Saturday and there's no reserve. So you have to play anyway. It's against Slytherin," Oliver told him, ringing his hands. Harry was about to say something when Oliver suddenly ran off. Harry stood there with his mouth open for a minute, then shrugged and skipped off giggling.
Authors' Notes: What will happen at the Quidditch match? Find out next time, in 'Amnesia Amigoes'!