Prof.Flitwick's Bad Day – A Flitwick Fic!
* * * * * * * *
Professor Flitwick was tired of being short.
Being short was tiring.
You had to stand on a pile of books to teach a class.
You got knocked over when the wind blew at you.
People laughed at you and thought you were funny.
"No-one takes me seriously." He thought pitifully.
Why, that very morning he had said, "Good morning Professor McGonagall!"
And she had ended up on the floor, rolling around and laughing fit to burst.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.
"I'm – I'm sorry Alganon but you're so tiny and – and you have such a cute little squeaky voice!"
Grrrr.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Now, you must remember to say the incantation right!" Flitwick told his first-years.
"Repeat after me – Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Wingardium Leviosa," they repeated dutifully.
He beamed. "Off you go then!"
He hopped off his pile of books and went around to the tables, watching them try out the incantation.
"Wingaaaaaardium Leviooooosssa!" an over-enthusiastic girl called Stacy McPhee swung her wand around with gusto and hit the boy next to her on the nose.
The feather in front of her remained stationary.
"You said it wrong," he said, rubbing his nose.
She glared. "If you're so clever, YOU do it!"
"Fine." He swished and flicked his wand in the precise movement and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The feather began to rise and hovered in mid-air.
"Oh well done Mr Weasley!" Professor Flitwick cried.
He wasn't really surprised – the boy was, after all, Hermione Weasley, neé Granger's son.
A model student, just like his mother was, he thought fondly.
Then he noticed that the boy was grinning in an evil sort of fashion at him.
He saw him raise his wand.
He realised what was going to happen when it was too late.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" cried the model student's son, with a perfect swish and flick of wand.
The wand was directed at Professor Flitwick.
He felt himself rise. And rise. And rise.
"Stop this at once!"
But Bertram Weasley held him there, floating in mid air and shouted,
"Hey everyone! Look at little Professor Flitwick!"
The students laughed.
The humiliation of it!
Alganon Flitwick was already angry, but it was the 'little' that made him explode.
"I – AM – NOT – SMALL – IN – SIZE!" he bellowed. Or he thought it was a bellow. It was really just an extremely loud, indignant squeak.
"Roostaroola!"
Betram Weasley was flung across the room, and the wand fell out of his hand. He then turned into a rooster.
Professor Flitwick landed with a 'thud' on the classroom floor and stood up, rubbing his backside.
The class gaped down at him.
Betram Weasley gave a loud, unhappy crow.
* * * * * * * * *
Hagrid walked in.
"Why are you in my class?" asked Professor Flitwick.
"Why's there a rooster in yeh classroom?" countered Hagrid.
"Erm, well, it's not really a rooster..." admitted Professor Flitwick.
Hagrid looked at the rooster, which was pecking at Stacy McPhee.
"It's a student. I turned him into one."
Hagrid switched his gaze from the rooster to Professor Flitwick.
"Eh? Summat for class, was it?"
Professor Flitwick shook his head.
"No, I just lost my temper."
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes widened in alarm and he bent down to feel Professor Flitwick's forehead.
Bent a long, long, long way down.
"Yeh alright, Professor? Feelin' alright, are yeh?"
"Of course. Why do you ask?" Professor Flitwick said with dignity.
Hagrid shifted his huge feet uncomfortably.
"Well, it's not like yeh to lose yeh temper. Yeh usually more cheerful, like."
"Oh, I'm just having a bad day," Professor Flitwick said airily.
* * * * * * * *
Professor Flitwick was extremely reluctant to change the boy back, but when Dumbledore convinced him that Hermione and Ron probably wouldn't be too thrilled to have a rooster for a son, he sulkily agreed.
"Never ever make your teacher fly again without asking permission!" Admonished the headmaster when Bertram had been restored to his normal state.
"It was funny," protested Bertram.
"Maybe, but Professor Flitwick has been a little sensitive about his size as of late..."
"Sensitive! Who's sensitive?" cried Professor Flitwick, who had been stamping around muttering to himself at the other end of the office.
After Betram had left, Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles and looked at Prof.Flitwick in a kindly way.
"Alganon, perhaps you should take a holiday..."
"No, no, Dumbledore, I'm quite alright!" squeaked Flitwick, "I shall continue to teach without any of these sort of mishaps, never fear!"
"Well....alright." Dumbledore said doubtfully.
Professor Flitwick whistled on his way up the Charms corridor.
He had a plan.
* * * * * * * * *
So what's Professor Flitwick's plan? Can he go through the day without turning anyone else into a rooster?
All will be revealed as the tale unfolds!
And reviews help me think better so press that wonderful little blue button there – that's the one.
~EOTW~
* * * * * * * *
Professor Flitwick was tired of being short.
Being short was tiring.
You had to stand on a pile of books to teach a class.
You got knocked over when the wind blew at you.
People laughed at you and thought you were funny.
"No-one takes me seriously." He thought pitifully.
Why, that very morning he had said, "Good morning Professor McGonagall!"
And she had ended up on the floor, rolling around and laughing fit to burst.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.
"I'm – I'm sorry Alganon but you're so tiny and – and you have such a cute little squeaky voice!"
Grrrr.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Now, you must remember to say the incantation right!" Flitwick told his first-years.
"Repeat after me – Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Wingardium Leviosa," they repeated dutifully.
He beamed. "Off you go then!"
He hopped off his pile of books and went around to the tables, watching them try out the incantation.
"Wingaaaaaardium Leviooooosssa!" an over-enthusiastic girl called Stacy McPhee swung her wand around with gusto and hit the boy next to her on the nose.
The feather in front of her remained stationary.
"You said it wrong," he said, rubbing his nose.
She glared. "If you're so clever, YOU do it!"
"Fine." He swished and flicked his wand in the precise movement and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The feather began to rise and hovered in mid-air.
"Oh well done Mr Weasley!" Professor Flitwick cried.
He wasn't really surprised – the boy was, after all, Hermione Weasley, neé Granger's son.
A model student, just like his mother was, he thought fondly.
Then he noticed that the boy was grinning in an evil sort of fashion at him.
He saw him raise his wand.
He realised what was going to happen when it was too late.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" cried the model student's son, with a perfect swish and flick of wand.
The wand was directed at Professor Flitwick.
He felt himself rise. And rise. And rise.
"Stop this at once!"
But Bertram Weasley held him there, floating in mid air and shouted,
"Hey everyone! Look at little Professor Flitwick!"
The students laughed.
The humiliation of it!
Alganon Flitwick was already angry, but it was the 'little' that made him explode.
"I – AM – NOT – SMALL – IN – SIZE!" he bellowed. Or he thought it was a bellow. It was really just an extremely loud, indignant squeak.
"Roostaroola!"
Betram Weasley was flung across the room, and the wand fell out of his hand. He then turned into a rooster.
Professor Flitwick landed with a 'thud' on the classroom floor and stood up, rubbing his backside.
The class gaped down at him.
Betram Weasley gave a loud, unhappy crow.
* * * * * * * * *
Hagrid walked in.
"Why are you in my class?" asked Professor Flitwick.
"Why's there a rooster in yeh classroom?" countered Hagrid.
"Erm, well, it's not really a rooster..." admitted Professor Flitwick.
Hagrid looked at the rooster, which was pecking at Stacy McPhee.
"It's a student. I turned him into one."
Hagrid switched his gaze from the rooster to Professor Flitwick.
"Eh? Summat for class, was it?"
Professor Flitwick shook his head.
"No, I just lost my temper."
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes widened in alarm and he bent down to feel Professor Flitwick's forehead.
Bent a long, long, long way down.
"Yeh alright, Professor? Feelin' alright, are yeh?"
"Of course. Why do you ask?" Professor Flitwick said with dignity.
Hagrid shifted his huge feet uncomfortably.
"Well, it's not like yeh to lose yeh temper. Yeh usually more cheerful, like."
"Oh, I'm just having a bad day," Professor Flitwick said airily.
* * * * * * * *
Professor Flitwick was extremely reluctant to change the boy back, but when Dumbledore convinced him that Hermione and Ron probably wouldn't be too thrilled to have a rooster for a son, he sulkily agreed.
"Never ever make your teacher fly again without asking permission!" Admonished the headmaster when Bertram had been restored to his normal state.
"It was funny," protested Bertram.
"Maybe, but Professor Flitwick has been a little sensitive about his size as of late..."
"Sensitive! Who's sensitive?" cried Professor Flitwick, who had been stamping around muttering to himself at the other end of the office.
After Betram had left, Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles and looked at Prof.Flitwick in a kindly way.
"Alganon, perhaps you should take a holiday..."
"No, no, Dumbledore, I'm quite alright!" squeaked Flitwick, "I shall continue to teach without any of these sort of mishaps, never fear!"
"Well....alright." Dumbledore said doubtfully.
Professor Flitwick whistled on his way up the Charms corridor.
He had a plan.
* * * * * * * * *
So what's Professor Flitwick's plan? Can he go through the day without turning anyone else into a rooster?
All will be revealed as the tale unfolds!
And reviews help me think better so press that wonderful little blue button there – that's the one.
~EOTW~