Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
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Someone Like You.
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Words are a medium of communication that could hurt, soothe or flatter. Yet how could one say what he want when he was cursed.
This was Harry Potter's Dillema.
Harry Potter was in his seventh and final year in Hogwarts when the unimmaginable happened. While working on a voice enhancement potion with his friend Ron, Malfoy secretly added an extra ingredient. As to what it was, he will not say but the effect was annoying.
"At least you could impersonate a mafia don," Ron said as he laughed out loud much to Harry's irritation. They sat in front of the fire in Gryffindor tower contemplating on what to do.
"Non รจ divertente," it's not funny, he said. He turned to the most reasonable of their group and his eyes were pleading her for help.
This was his dilemma, He was speaking in Italian.
"I must say, Harry. I think it's sexy," she smiled. Ron abruptly stopped laughing.
"Grazie, Hermione," Harry sighed and then looked at Ron smugly.
"Sexy?" the redhead was abashed. "Are you mental?"
"I don't know Ron," Ginny Weasley sat by the hearthrug looking at her friends. "Most girls fell in love with his accent."
"Who wouldn't," Hermione smiled. "Perfect diction and accent. We must thank Malfoy for this."
"Non desidero spendere il mio Italiano parlante di vita," I don't want to spend my life speaking Italian, Harry sighed. Of all his friends, Hermione was the only one who understood him.
"Professor McGonnagall said it would wear off in a few days," Hermione patted his shoulder.
"Appena la mia fortuna," just my luck, Harry stood and sighed deeply. "Sto facendo una passeggiata," with that he walked towards the portrait door and exited the room.
.
Someone Like You.
.
Words are a medium of communication that could hurt, soothe or flatter. Yet how could one say what he want when he was cursed.
This was Harry Potter's Dillema.
Harry Potter was in his seventh and final year in Hogwarts when the unimmaginable happened. While working on a voice enhancement potion with his friend Ron, Malfoy secretly added an extra ingredient. As to what it was, he will not say but the effect was annoying.
"At least you could impersonate a mafia don," Ron said as he laughed out loud much to Harry's irritation. They sat in front of the fire in Gryffindor tower contemplating on what to do.
"Non รจ divertente," it's not funny, he said. He turned to the most reasonable of their group and his eyes were pleading her for help.
This was his dilemma, He was speaking in Italian.
"I must say, Harry. I think it's sexy," she smiled. Ron abruptly stopped laughing.
"Grazie, Hermione," Harry sighed and then looked at Ron smugly.
"Sexy?" the redhead was abashed. "Are you mental?"
"I don't know Ron," Ginny Weasley sat by the hearthrug looking at her friends. "Most girls fell in love with his accent."
"Who wouldn't," Hermione smiled. "Perfect diction and accent. We must thank Malfoy for this."
"Non desidero spendere il mio Italiano parlante di vita," I don't want to spend my life speaking Italian, Harry sighed. Of all his friends, Hermione was the only one who understood him.
"Professor McGonnagall said it would wear off in a few days," Hermione patted his shoulder.
"Appena la mia fortuna," just my luck, Harry stood and sighed deeply. "Sto facendo una passeggiata," with that he walked towards the portrait door and exited the room.