A Visit to Hermione
Summer had ended at last and Harry was free to go back to Hogwarts. It was the start of his sixth year. O.W.L.S. had been the year before, and he had passed every single one except for his History of Magic class. It didn't matter. What mattered to him was that he could visit all of his friends again. Non-stop owls flew during the summer, recieving and sending off letters formed in a group by Ron, Hermione and Harry. They were 16 years old! And they loved it!
Harry packed his things haphazardly in his trunk and dragged it outside of the Dursley house along with Hedwig's cage. No one even noticed he had gone. He liked it that way. Uncle Vernon was reading his newspaper (as usual), and Aunt Petunia was fussing over Dudley because he had gotten jam all over his new wardrobe for school. Harry groaned as he pulled on the handle of the trunk to the corner of Privet Drive. I wish I could just put a small charm on this stupid old trunk so it'll fly so I don't have to carry the blasted thing! Harry thought as the handle in which he was pulling the trunk with snapped off.
He looked up at the sky, expecting... Yes! There it was! A small dot was zooming through the air and came gliding towards Harry and his broken trunk. As it came to a stop, Harry saw that it was still hovering a foot in the air so he had to step far up in order to get inside the passenger side of the car after he had securely put his trunk and Hedwig's cage in the back seat. He pulled the car door closed and looked over at the driver.
"Hey Ron," he said, beaming.
"Hey Harry. Did you get my last owl?" Harry was confused.
"Owl? The last one I got said you'd pick me up." Ron winced. Harry knew there was a big blotch in which Ron hadn't told him yet.
"I guess Pigwidgeon hasn't come yet, has he?" Ron asked, looking down at his feet, half hidden by the steering wheel.
"No, he didn't. What was it you wanted to tell me?" Harry leaned in, expecting Ron to whisper to him. Ron just gazed at his feet for a few seconds and played with the leather covering on the steering wheel then looked up to Harry, started to speak but decided it would be best to stare back at his feet. Harry, on the other hand, was not just mildly interested in what Ron had to say. There many things his friends had told him during the past few years he had known them that were violently important. This seemed to be such a case, but Harry couldn't understand! They were best friends! Why wasn't Ron speaking or even looking at Harry?
Ron pulled a few gears, turned on the invisibility shield and pressed on the gas pedal. They sped off into the air, niether saying a word. They sat for a while just looking out the windows. Harry looked down at the small towns below them moving fast at pace. Houses were rushing by so fast it started making his vision blurry. He turned to Ron. Ron wasn't even looking where he was going! He was looking down, in the mirrors, in front of him a few times, and even glanced once at Harry.
It seemed to Harry they were descending. The houses and buildings were getting bigger and closer. Just as they were about to collide with a smoking, brick chimney, Ron found what he was looking for and yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, knocking a few shingles off a roof. Harry spun his head around trying to watch Ron, trying to see what Ron was after, and watching everything around the little car, hoping they didn't collide with anything else. Ron pulled a few gears, rolled down his window, told Harry to hold on tight, and slammed on the gas. The car jerked back ward as Ron stuck his hand out of the car and grabbed a little brown piece of fluff. The car halted and Ron brought the fluff inside the car and rolled up the window. Harry panted for a few seconds, still gripping onto the car door. After a minute, he let go. Ron handed him the small, hooting little fluff Pigwidgeon. The owl held out his leg. Strapped tightly to it was a scroll of parchment the size of a 5 X 7 postcard. He took off the paper, put a knut in Pig's pouch, unrolled the parchment and read the small, scribbled writing:
Harry,
Thanks for the money for the car! It's fun to drive by houses and honk while no one can see who it is! hehe Well, my mum said I can drive to the station without her. Only problem is is that I have to take Ginny along. Fred and George sure are giving her hell at home! They said with their earnings from their joke shop, they'll buy their own cars. They thank you again for the money you gave them to start it. If it weren't for you, Harry, they wouldn't be so rich right now! I can't wait to visit it! They told me it ws full of things like the Sniving Snackboxes and Nasty Norberts (they named it after Norbert because they make you breathe fire).
Can't wait to see you again! I have great news too! Don't have a heart attack but I talked to Hermione's parents on the telephone (is that how you spell it?) and they agreed that we can take Hermione with us as well! So that means we get to pick her up! At her house! Wicked isn't it?
Well I hope you enjoyed yet another exciting letter from me! See you soon! Your friend, Ron
Harry looked up at Ron with a huge grin on his face; Ron seemed to have one as well. But instead of asking the normal questions, such as: Where does Hermione live? and Is it far? he asked Ron, "Where's Ginny?" Ron's smile quickly faded.
"Does it matter?" Ron grumbled in response. "What's important now is that we're going to go to Hermione's house!"
After another twenty minutes of silence, Ron looked down and said in an excited voice, "I think that's it! That white one down there! Hermione sent me Muggle pictures of it. Yeah, it looks exactly like it!" Ron circled the house and lowered the car until it came to a complete stop in the driveway of the white house. It was still hovering silently until Ron pressed a blue button in the shape of a star and the car crashed into the hard pavement with a loud BANG! "Hope that didn't hurt the car," he mumbled under his breath while getting out and slamming the door behind him. Harry followed. Not until this point did he see what the car really looked like. He could tell it was bought new because it had an excellent finish on it, but he could also plainly see the scrapes and scratches on the surface of the hood, bumper, car doors, etc. It was obvious Ron wasn't te best driver in the world. In their second year, he almost made Harry plummet to his death merely 30 feet above the train to Hogwarts. Harry shivered at the thought and went to join Ron at the front steps. Hermione's house was three stories with a small garage attached. It looked very neat and clean, as Hermione was always thought to be, and had the slight aroma of wet paint.
Ron knocked. A minute passed. He knocked again. This time, a window on the second floor was swiped open and a very bushy haired, smiling face said, "Hold on a minute! I'm getting my Muggle clothes on!" Ron and Harry exchanged looks. They were both teenagers and they knew they liked girls. Hermione was a girl and she was putting clothes on. Harry shook the idea out of his head. They were sixteen after all, teenagers start to wonder after a while.
After what seemed like ages, the front door opened and there Hermione stood. Ron and Harry gasped. She was wearing a tight, lowcut skirt with a small tank top to match. They were both glittery grey and black.
"Well, what are you all waiting for then?" she beamed happily, "Come help me with my trunk." She led them inside her house, Ron and Harry staring at her little figure, trying to act cool. She started upstairs. The boys bent down to try to look up her skirt but collided heads. When Hermione heard their cries of pain, she turned around for a second, and trodded on.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Hermione led them to the right. Here was a small bedroom packed with books such as Hogwarts, A History and Witches Forever. Her trunk was already packed and crammed tightly in a corner between her desk and her closet, which was right next to the door.
"This is my room. It isn't very tidy, I know, but you can't possibly expect everything to be clean all the time, can you?" she said, looking around her room with distaste. The two boys stumbled over the books, took the trunk which weighed ten times as much as their own, and carefully went down stairs one step at a time until Harry lost his balance and the trunk went soaring downstairs, slid across the wooden floor and finally crashed into a couch, the same white color as the exterior of the house. Hermione didn't seem to notice the accident. She just walked past Ron and the fallen Harry, down the stairs and into her kitchen off to the left of the stairs. She scribbled down a note and plastered it to the countertop.
"Shall we go then?" she asked.
"What about your trunk?" Harry asked, scrambling to his feet.
"Yeah, I hope there wasn't anything breakable in there. If there was...sorry," Ron added, blushing.
"Oh it's alright. It's just parchment, and books and things. You know, the usual." She smiled and went outside to the car. She opened the door and started sliding trunks and cages out of the way to make room for her things. Ron and Harry were sliding the trunk across the floor when Hermione came rushing back inside. She started making clicking sounds with her tongue.
"Here Crookshanks! Come on! Time to go to Hogwarts!" she cooed as the fat, over-sized cat came bounding down the stairway. Hermione picked him up and said to the two boys, "You wouldn't believe how hard it was to convince people he was just an overly-large cat, not one of those ferocious cats like a bobcat or a tiger or something." She chuckled and went back out to the car. Ron and Harry dragged the trunk again.
"Wouldn't you like to pet that pus-" Ron was cut off by Harry, who jabbed him in the arm. Ron just laughed. "Owe! I'm only joking!"
Once everything was secure in the car; animals, trunks, and all, they were off to the train station. Everyone could tell everyone else was thrilled about going back to Hogwarts! When they got there and were safely through the secret passageway between platforms nine and ten, Harry and Ron and a couple of other male Hogwarts students helped Herrmione with her trunk onto the train.
"See you in the prefect section Ron," was the first direct comment toward them since the boys came to Hermione's house to pick her up.
"Oh yeah," Ron mumbled and bid Harry farewell. Once again, for the second year in a row, Harry was left to sit alone on the train. He stood on Platform 9 3/4 for a few minutes, watching students pile up in the compartments throughout the train then decided it was best to follow. He found a compartment all to himself in the way back. He left the compartment door open, in hopes someone he knew would rush by and decide to sit with him. Moments passed before the train made a smooth hissing sound and began to move. No one came. Harry laid down on his small compartment bench and closed his eyes; weary dreams would soon sprout in his head.
He dreamed he was flying hgh above the train and straight to Hogwarts. There he went through the Great Hall and into the teacher's lounge where he turned the real sniveling Snape into a Snape with a pretty pink dress on. He posed for Harry and said, "Is this seat taken?" Harry immediately opened his eyes. Groggily, he sat up and looked at the source of the voice. In the compartment doorway, stood Luna Lovegood, former 5th year. Harry soon realized he had a huge grin on his face. He didn't know if it was because of his dream or the sight of Luna. She wore mismatched, colorful socks that were outside of her black stretch pants. She had large, heavy boots on. Her sweater was loose on her, reminding of how the Dursleys had given Harry Dudley's old clothes and the shirts hanging off him as well. Her shirt was a bright yellow. And to top it all off, a rather large sun hat lay gracefully on the top of her head.
"No, have a seat," he said, rubbing his eyes in confusion. Did Luna actually look... yes she did! To Harry, Luna looked attractive in her little frock! "So..." he started, "have a good summer?"
"Yeah, it was okay." There was a long pause. "Yours?"
"It was pretty good," he responded.
"You look tired, have you been getting much sleep?"
"Yeah, actually, I was just taking a quick nap before we got to Hogwarts."
"Oh," she answered dreamily. She had a small dufflebag at her side. She zipped it open and took out a copy of The Quibbler and hid her face behind it.
"Oh yeah!" Harry suddenly remembered, "Did you ever catch any snumple horny floorwax?" He realized what he had just said and buried his red face in his hands. Luna just chuckled and took out her face from The Quibbler.
"Actually, they're called Crumple-Horned Snorcacks and yes, we did catch one. We had to let it go though. It almost killed my father." She smiled contently and returned to her Quibbler.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Harry.
After a while of not talking, he shut the compartment door and fell asleep once more. This time he was running down the dungeon steps while he heard children who were chained to the walls screaming. In every room he passed, there were more and more people. In one room was Percy, strung helplessly to the cold, brick wall, crying for Mr. Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Harry gave him a dirty look and pressed on. The next room held the entire Dursley family, yelping in pain. Dudley was screaming something in lines of not being able to watch his favorite television show... Mr. Filch came in and asked Harry personally how he wanted the Dursley family to be punished. Harry told him, "As deeps as the cuts can go." He then went through the wall and found the entire Weasley family chained as tight as ever to the wall, screaming and bleeding from their pores. Harry ran to them and tried to free their hands and legs of the cuffs but couldn't. With each tug, the chain would cut deeper and deeper into the skin. All the while, their eyes were turning white and the screams got louder and louder. Mr. Filch came in again and asked how he wanted them to be treated. By this time, the screams turned into Sirius' mother's piercing howls, "MUDBLOODS! FILTHY BLOOD! HOW DARE YOU!" Harry's knees gave in and his hands were clasped around his ears. This didn't help the screaming. A mixture of Mr. Filch asking him how he wanted them to be tortured, Mrs. Black's appauling shouting and screams so loud and piercing it sounded as if it were coming from a tea kettle. He collapsed on the floor. He couldn't take it anymore! Finally, when the screaming had reached its peak, it all turned quiet except for Mr. Filch. His voice echoed inside Harry's brain saying, "God I miss the screaming..." That, too, soon faded away, and Harry was left alone. He opened his eyes. All he could see was white. Apparating with a loud POP came Fred and George. They were laughing about Harry and his lightning bolt scar. Harry touched his forehead and it seared with pain! He stepped back a couple of feet and bumped into Hermione. "He knows you're dreaming, Harry," she said calmly. . All of these words echoed and all the while, his scar kept hurting. He turned away from her and saw, from a distance, Malfoy dressed in his Slytherin Quidditch attire. He was singing softly (tune to Weasley is our King), eyeing Harry with disgust.
Harry Potter's such a git
When he dreams he falls for it
But when Sirius shall die a bit
Say that Potter is a git
Then Malfoy laughed idiotically and Harry woke, the laughing echoing, fading away. He could not see very clearly so he had to blink several times before he could finally adjust. It was almost dark. He looked over to where Luna once sat. To his amazement, Ron was sitting there with Luna fast asleep in his lap. They exchanged glances and Ron gave a quick wave. Hermione opened to compartment door, startling Harry.
"You better change into your robes. We'll be ariving soon," was all she said. Harry looked around. Everyone had changed except for him. Shining Ps glimmered on Ron's and Hermione's robes. Prefects.
Summer had ended at last and Harry was free to go back to Hogwarts. It was the start of his sixth year. O.W.L.S. had been the year before, and he had passed every single one except for his History of Magic class. It didn't matter. What mattered to him was that he could visit all of his friends again. Non-stop owls flew during the summer, recieving and sending off letters formed in a group by Ron, Hermione and Harry. They were 16 years old! And they loved it!
Harry packed his things haphazardly in his trunk and dragged it outside of the Dursley house along with Hedwig's cage. No one even noticed he had gone. He liked it that way. Uncle Vernon was reading his newspaper (as usual), and Aunt Petunia was fussing over Dudley because he had gotten jam all over his new wardrobe for school. Harry groaned as he pulled on the handle of the trunk to the corner of Privet Drive. I wish I could just put a small charm on this stupid old trunk so it'll fly so I don't have to carry the blasted thing! Harry thought as the handle in which he was pulling the trunk with snapped off.
He looked up at the sky, expecting... Yes! There it was! A small dot was zooming through the air and came gliding towards Harry and his broken trunk. As it came to a stop, Harry saw that it was still hovering a foot in the air so he had to step far up in order to get inside the passenger side of the car after he had securely put his trunk and Hedwig's cage in the back seat. He pulled the car door closed and looked over at the driver.
"Hey Ron," he said, beaming.
"Hey Harry. Did you get my last owl?" Harry was confused.
"Owl? The last one I got said you'd pick me up." Ron winced. Harry knew there was a big blotch in which Ron hadn't told him yet.
"I guess Pigwidgeon hasn't come yet, has he?" Ron asked, looking down at his feet, half hidden by the steering wheel.
"No, he didn't. What was it you wanted to tell me?" Harry leaned in, expecting Ron to whisper to him. Ron just gazed at his feet for a few seconds and played with the leather covering on the steering wheel then looked up to Harry, started to speak but decided it would be best to stare back at his feet. Harry, on the other hand, was not just mildly interested in what Ron had to say. There many things his friends had told him during the past few years he had known them that were violently important. This seemed to be such a case, but Harry couldn't understand! They were best friends! Why wasn't Ron speaking or even looking at Harry?
Ron pulled a few gears, turned on the invisibility shield and pressed on the gas pedal. They sped off into the air, niether saying a word. They sat for a while just looking out the windows. Harry looked down at the small towns below them moving fast at pace. Houses were rushing by so fast it started making his vision blurry. He turned to Ron. Ron wasn't even looking where he was going! He was looking down, in the mirrors, in front of him a few times, and even glanced once at Harry.
It seemed to Harry they were descending. The houses and buildings were getting bigger and closer. Just as they were about to collide with a smoking, brick chimney, Ron found what he was looking for and yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, knocking a few shingles off a roof. Harry spun his head around trying to watch Ron, trying to see what Ron was after, and watching everything around the little car, hoping they didn't collide with anything else. Ron pulled a few gears, rolled down his window, told Harry to hold on tight, and slammed on the gas. The car jerked back ward as Ron stuck his hand out of the car and grabbed a little brown piece of fluff. The car halted and Ron brought the fluff inside the car and rolled up the window. Harry panted for a few seconds, still gripping onto the car door. After a minute, he let go. Ron handed him the small, hooting little fluff Pigwidgeon. The owl held out his leg. Strapped tightly to it was a scroll of parchment the size of a 5 X 7 postcard. He took off the paper, put a knut in Pig's pouch, unrolled the parchment and read the small, scribbled writing:
Harry,
Thanks for the money for the car! It's fun to drive by houses and honk while no one can see who it is! hehe Well, my mum said I can drive to the station without her. Only problem is is that I have to take Ginny along. Fred and George sure are giving her hell at home! They said with their earnings from their joke shop, they'll buy their own cars. They thank you again for the money you gave them to start it. If it weren't for you, Harry, they wouldn't be so rich right now! I can't wait to visit it! They told me it ws full of things like the Sniving Snackboxes and Nasty Norberts (they named it after Norbert because they make you breathe fire).
Can't wait to see you again! I have great news too! Don't have a heart attack but I talked to Hermione's parents on the telephone (is that how you spell it?) and they agreed that we can take Hermione with us as well! So that means we get to pick her up! At her house! Wicked isn't it?
Well I hope you enjoyed yet another exciting letter from me! See you soon! Your friend, Ron
Harry looked up at Ron with a huge grin on his face; Ron seemed to have one as well. But instead of asking the normal questions, such as: Where does Hermione live? and Is it far? he asked Ron, "Where's Ginny?" Ron's smile quickly faded.
"Does it matter?" Ron grumbled in response. "What's important now is that we're going to go to Hermione's house!"
After another twenty minutes of silence, Ron looked down and said in an excited voice, "I think that's it! That white one down there! Hermione sent me Muggle pictures of it. Yeah, it looks exactly like it!" Ron circled the house and lowered the car until it came to a complete stop in the driveway of the white house. It was still hovering silently until Ron pressed a blue button in the shape of a star and the car crashed into the hard pavement with a loud BANG! "Hope that didn't hurt the car," he mumbled under his breath while getting out and slamming the door behind him. Harry followed. Not until this point did he see what the car really looked like. He could tell it was bought new because it had an excellent finish on it, but he could also plainly see the scrapes and scratches on the surface of the hood, bumper, car doors, etc. It was obvious Ron wasn't te best driver in the world. In their second year, he almost made Harry plummet to his death merely 30 feet above the train to Hogwarts. Harry shivered at the thought and went to join Ron at the front steps. Hermione's house was three stories with a small garage attached. It looked very neat and clean, as Hermione was always thought to be, and had the slight aroma of wet paint.
Ron knocked. A minute passed. He knocked again. This time, a window on the second floor was swiped open and a very bushy haired, smiling face said, "Hold on a minute! I'm getting my Muggle clothes on!" Ron and Harry exchanged looks. They were both teenagers and they knew they liked girls. Hermione was a girl and she was putting clothes on. Harry shook the idea out of his head. They were sixteen after all, teenagers start to wonder after a while.
After what seemed like ages, the front door opened and there Hermione stood. Ron and Harry gasped. She was wearing a tight, lowcut skirt with a small tank top to match. They were both glittery grey and black.
"Well, what are you all waiting for then?" she beamed happily, "Come help me with my trunk." She led them inside her house, Ron and Harry staring at her little figure, trying to act cool. She started upstairs. The boys bent down to try to look up her skirt but collided heads. When Hermione heard their cries of pain, she turned around for a second, and trodded on.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Hermione led them to the right. Here was a small bedroom packed with books such as Hogwarts, A History and Witches Forever. Her trunk was already packed and crammed tightly in a corner between her desk and her closet, which was right next to the door.
"This is my room. It isn't very tidy, I know, but you can't possibly expect everything to be clean all the time, can you?" she said, looking around her room with distaste. The two boys stumbled over the books, took the trunk which weighed ten times as much as their own, and carefully went down stairs one step at a time until Harry lost his balance and the trunk went soaring downstairs, slid across the wooden floor and finally crashed into a couch, the same white color as the exterior of the house. Hermione didn't seem to notice the accident. She just walked past Ron and the fallen Harry, down the stairs and into her kitchen off to the left of the stairs. She scribbled down a note and plastered it to the countertop.
"Shall we go then?" she asked.
"What about your trunk?" Harry asked, scrambling to his feet.
"Yeah, I hope there wasn't anything breakable in there. If there was...sorry," Ron added, blushing.
"Oh it's alright. It's just parchment, and books and things. You know, the usual." She smiled and went outside to the car. She opened the door and started sliding trunks and cages out of the way to make room for her things. Ron and Harry were sliding the trunk across the floor when Hermione came rushing back inside. She started making clicking sounds with her tongue.
"Here Crookshanks! Come on! Time to go to Hogwarts!" she cooed as the fat, over-sized cat came bounding down the stairway. Hermione picked him up and said to the two boys, "You wouldn't believe how hard it was to convince people he was just an overly-large cat, not one of those ferocious cats like a bobcat or a tiger or something." She chuckled and went back out to the car. Ron and Harry dragged the trunk again.
"Wouldn't you like to pet that pus-" Ron was cut off by Harry, who jabbed him in the arm. Ron just laughed. "Owe! I'm only joking!"
Once everything was secure in the car; animals, trunks, and all, they were off to the train station. Everyone could tell everyone else was thrilled about going back to Hogwarts! When they got there and were safely through the secret passageway between platforms nine and ten, Harry and Ron and a couple of other male Hogwarts students helped Herrmione with her trunk onto the train.
"See you in the prefect section Ron," was the first direct comment toward them since the boys came to Hermione's house to pick her up.
"Oh yeah," Ron mumbled and bid Harry farewell. Once again, for the second year in a row, Harry was left to sit alone on the train. He stood on Platform 9 3/4 for a few minutes, watching students pile up in the compartments throughout the train then decided it was best to follow. He found a compartment all to himself in the way back. He left the compartment door open, in hopes someone he knew would rush by and decide to sit with him. Moments passed before the train made a smooth hissing sound and began to move. No one came. Harry laid down on his small compartment bench and closed his eyes; weary dreams would soon sprout in his head.
He dreamed he was flying hgh above the train and straight to Hogwarts. There he went through the Great Hall and into the teacher's lounge where he turned the real sniveling Snape into a Snape with a pretty pink dress on. He posed for Harry and said, "Is this seat taken?" Harry immediately opened his eyes. Groggily, he sat up and looked at the source of the voice. In the compartment doorway, stood Luna Lovegood, former 5th year. Harry soon realized he had a huge grin on his face. He didn't know if it was because of his dream or the sight of Luna. She wore mismatched, colorful socks that were outside of her black stretch pants. She had large, heavy boots on. Her sweater was loose on her, reminding of how the Dursleys had given Harry Dudley's old clothes and the shirts hanging off him as well. Her shirt was a bright yellow. And to top it all off, a rather large sun hat lay gracefully on the top of her head.
"No, have a seat," he said, rubbing his eyes in confusion. Did Luna actually look... yes she did! To Harry, Luna looked attractive in her little frock! "So..." he started, "have a good summer?"
"Yeah, it was okay." There was a long pause. "Yours?"
"It was pretty good," he responded.
"You look tired, have you been getting much sleep?"
"Yeah, actually, I was just taking a quick nap before we got to Hogwarts."
"Oh," she answered dreamily. She had a small dufflebag at her side. She zipped it open and took out a copy of The Quibbler and hid her face behind it.
"Oh yeah!" Harry suddenly remembered, "Did you ever catch any snumple horny floorwax?" He realized what he had just said and buried his red face in his hands. Luna just chuckled and took out her face from The Quibbler.
"Actually, they're called Crumple-Horned Snorcacks and yes, we did catch one. We had to let it go though. It almost killed my father." She smiled contently and returned to her Quibbler.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Harry.
After a while of not talking, he shut the compartment door and fell asleep once more. This time he was running down the dungeon steps while he heard children who were chained to the walls screaming. In every room he passed, there were more and more people. In one room was Percy, strung helplessly to the cold, brick wall, crying for Mr. Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Harry gave him a dirty look and pressed on. The next room held the entire Dursley family, yelping in pain. Dudley was screaming something in lines of not being able to watch his favorite television show... Mr. Filch came in and asked Harry personally how he wanted the Dursley family to be punished. Harry told him, "As deeps as the cuts can go." He then went through the wall and found the entire Weasley family chained as tight as ever to the wall, screaming and bleeding from their pores. Harry ran to them and tried to free their hands and legs of the cuffs but couldn't. With each tug, the chain would cut deeper and deeper into the skin. All the while, their eyes were turning white and the screams got louder and louder. Mr. Filch came in again and asked how he wanted them to be treated. By this time, the screams turned into Sirius' mother's piercing howls, "MUDBLOODS! FILTHY BLOOD! HOW DARE YOU!" Harry's knees gave in and his hands were clasped around his ears. This didn't help the screaming. A mixture of Mr. Filch asking him how he wanted them to be tortured, Mrs. Black's appauling shouting and screams so loud and piercing it sounded as if it were coming from a tea kettle. He collapsed on the floor. He couldn't take it anymore! Finally, when the screaming had reached its peak, it all turned quiet except for Mr. Filch. His voice echoed inside Harry's brain saying, "God I miss the screaming..." That, too, soon faded away, and Harry was left alone. He opened his eyes. All he could see was white. Apparating with a loud POP came Fred and George. They were laughing about Harry and his lightning bolt scar. Harry touched his forehead and it seared with pain! He stepped back a couple of feet and bumped into Hermione. "He knows you're dreaming, Harry," she said calmly. . All of these words echoed and all the while, his scar kept hurting. He turned away from her and saw, from a distance, Malfoy dressed in his Slytherin Quidditch attire. He was singing softly (tune to Weasley is our King), eyeing Harry with disgust.
Harry Potter's such a git
When he dreams he falls for it
But when Sirius shall die a bit
Say that Potter is a git
Then Malfoy laughed idiotically and Harry woke, the laughing echoing, fading away. He could not see very clearly so he had to blink several times before he could finally adjust. It was almost dark. He looked over to where Luna once sat. To his amazement, Ron was sitting there with Luna fast asleep in his lap. They exchanged glances and Ron gave a quick wave. Hermione opened to compartment door, startling Harry.
"You better change into your robes. We'll be ariving soon," was all she said. Harry looked around. Everyone had changed except for him. Shining Ps glimmered on Ron's and Hermione's robes. Prefects.