DISCLAIMER: CHARACTERS AND ORIGINAL IDEA BY J.K. ROWLING
FEEDBACK: Greatly appreciated!
Harry Potter and the Scottish Play
Chapter Seven - The Curse
"Didn't you hear what Malfoy said?" Hermione stressed.
Harry looked at Ron and shrugged. Ron's eyes then widened and his face whent scarlet. "Uh... is it... because he called you my... uh... girlfriend?" he stammered.
Hermione sighed. "No! The play! Shakespeare's work!"
Harry's eyebrows crinkled. "What? Mac-"
"Don't say it!" Hermione cried rather loudly, attracting the attention of a few wizards and witches nearby. When neither of the boys said anything from her outburst, she explained.
"Well, there has always been a superstition surrounding this play, possibly because of its implications of witchcraft. The belief is that one mustn't speak the title of the play or else they will encounter misfortunes and disasters. Some say it only applies when you are in the theatre, but others that are more superstitious never openly say the name at all."
A wave of knowledge and understanding briefly crossed the two boys' faces. "Well, that might explain why we need the play though," Harry speculated. "It has to do with witchcraft."
"Exactly," Hermione agreed as-a-matter-of-factly.
Ron exhaled loudly. "Alright. Well, let's just get it over with and get the book then, shall we?"
Ron, Harry and Hermione went to get Molly and Sirius who had been window shopping up ahead with Fred, George and Ginny. Harry and Ron led the others towards Flourish & Botts just as their nemesis was leaving with his father.
Lucius Malfoy took one dismisive glance at the approaching group. He turned to his son. "This way Draco," he said coldly. Draco followed after his father and threw an impatient glance over his shoulder.
A frightened and seemingly overworked house-elf scurried after the Malfoys, attempting to balance a large stack of new books.
Hermione, Harry and Ron watched as one of the thicker books from the middle of the teetering pile began to slip. Before one of them could help the poor house-elf, the ominous book flew out from under the weight of the pile. Subsequently, the rest of the books scattered in all directions.
In the middle of the street in Diagon Alley, the three friends went over to help the Malfoys' house-elf.
"Oh please, no need for your help," the house-elf protested timidly.
"Gemwit! Get up!" Lucius ordered. He had finally noticed what was going on. Afraid of his master, Gemwit left the fallen books on the cobblestones and stood up, his hands tugging nervously at his tattered piece of clothing. "Yes, sir..."
"Pick up your own books! Don't you know better than to let those three help you?" Lucius threatened.
Harry, Ron and Hermione reluctantly backed away from the mess but couldn't help watching poor Gemwit trying, and failing, to get all the books himself.
"Draco! Help him," Lucius demanded. Draco's smirk immediately turned into a frown, his eyes narrowing. The onlookers tried to suppress a smile as Draco was stooped on the ground next to their house-elf picking up their books.
FEEDBACK: Greatly appreciated!
Harry Potter and the Scottish Play
Chapter Seven - The Curse
"Didn't you hear what Malfoy said?" Hermione stressed.
Harry looked at Ron and shrugged. Ron's eyes then widened and his face whent scarlet. "Uh... is it... because he called you my... uh... girlfriend?" he stammered.
Hermione sighed. "No! The play! Shakespeare's work!"
Harry's eyebrows crinkled. "What? Mac-"
"Don't say it!" Hermione cried rather loudly, attracting the attention of a few wizards and witches nearby. When neither of the boys said anything from her outburst, she explained.
"Well, there has always been a superstition surrounding this play, possibly because of its implications of witchcraft. The belief is that one mustn't speak the title of the play or else they will encounter misfortunes and disasters. Some say it only applies when you are in the theatre, but others that are more superstitious never openly say the name at all."
A wave of knowledge and understanding briefly crossed the two boys' faces. "Well, that might explain why we need the play though," Harry speculated. "It has to do with witchcraft."
"Exactly," Hermione agreed as-a-matter-of-factly.
Ron exhaled loudly. "Alright. Well, let's just get it over with and get the book then, shall we?"
Ron, Harry and Hermione went to get Molly and Sirius who had been window shopping up ahead with Fred, George and Ginny. Harry and Ron led the others towards Flourish & Botts just as their nemesis was leaving with his father.
Lucius Malfoy took one dismisive glance at the approaching group. He turned to his son. "This way Draco," he said coldly. Draco followed after his father and threw an impatient glance over his shoulder.
A frightened and seemingly overworked house-elf scurried after the Malfoys, attempting to balance a large stack of new books.
Hermione, Harry and Ron watched as one of the thicker books from the middle of the teetering pile began to slip. Before one of them could help the poor house-elf, the ominous book flew out from under the weight of the pile. Subsequently, the rest of the books scattered in all directions.
In the middle of the street in Diagon Alley, the three friends went over to help the Malfoys' house-elf.
"Oh please, no need for your help," the house-elf protested timidly.
"Gemwit! Get up!" Lucius ordered. He had finally noticed what was going on. Afraid of his master, Gemwit left the fallen books on the cobblestones and stood up, his hands tugging nervously at his tattered piece of clothing. "Yes, sir..."
"Pick up your own books! Don't you know better than to let those three help you?" Lucius threatened.
Harry, Ron and Hermione reluctantly backed away from the mess but couldn't help watching poor Gemwit trying, and failing, to get all the books himself.
"Draco! Help him," Lucius demanded. Draco's smirk immediately turned into a frown, his eyes narrowing. The onlookers tried to suppress a smile as Draco was stooped on the ground next to their house-elf picking up their books.