I flopped back down on my bed and groaned. I didn't really care if the rest of the guys were awake because of my 'little' ruckus; I was too damned tired to care. Having pig assault me in the middle of the night didn't help things any. I didn't want to open the letter, I wanted to go back to sleep; having loads of potions, transfiguration and charms homework wasn't enough, but I also had had a Quidditch game that afternoon, where I got to beat the living shit out of that beautiful lust demon Malfoy; Ahhh… yes that was the highlight of my day. Closing my eyes I watched as he dove and spun; his arm just out of reach of the little snitch; the way his robe softly waved in the air as his head snapped back and forth looking for that little gold ball. Oh how I would to have a Draco's hand reach for a certain part of my lower anatomy like that…
OK! I snapped up and out of bed and was reaching for the letter… better keep my mind out of areas like that or I'll have a rather embarrassing problem. Unfurling it I blinked at the bluntness of the words and reread it at least three times before I was satisfied that that was all that it said; I even flipped it over just to find a black back.
Weasley,
Come to the pitch,
No later then 12:00Pm.
Tonight!
Don't be late.
Bad Faith Dragon
The clock said 11:35 I didn't really know what I was doing, just that I had my shirt, shoes and Harry's invisibility cloak on, and was out of the door and on my way to the pitch, before he even had time to wake up. Now don't get me wrong, I was fully aware that what I was walking into could have been a trap. Being the friend of Harry Potter made sure that I could never be too careful when doing anything. 'What in the hell do you think your doing Ronald Weasley,' that little voice in my head berated. 'You could be walking in to you doom! And you couldn't care less couldn't you?' No, I decided, I couldn't. Maybe it was fatigue, or that funny tasting spotted dick I ate a dinner, but here I was, watching Flitch stumble drunkenly down second floor corridor, not caring if I got caught or not. Wait, I could get him fired for that! I'm so wicked, muahahaha. But that's later.
Mrs. Norris went trailing behind the pissed Filch, and into a class room where a loud caterwauling was heard. I really hoped that some students just got interrupted and Mrs. Norris' tail was stepped on. Continuing on my way I saw four out of the eight prefects patrolling the grand staircase, so what was I to do but hold my breath and hope that they didn't hear my footsteps? Eventually I opened the big ruddy doors so I could get outside.
Glancing at my watch I gasped. Oh God, 11:55! I was going to be late! Quidditch practice isn't only on brooms you know, oh no, half of that is running, and working out. And I guess that having such a long legs I wasn't so bad at that. I have the bragging rights of being the fastest runner on the Quidditch team, so that was a little useful to me now as I ran across the Hogwarts grounds toward the pitch.
Clutching Harry's cloak around my body, I had no wand, no ability to call for help if I needed it; and no reasonable excuse for being out so late if I WAS caught. Think about that when it's time to go to bed, I thought. Just as my lungs began to feel as though someone had just put muggle mustard gas inside them, I saw the arch of the Quidditch pitch. And then I remembered that there was a reason that I wore the same jumper every time I played in or watched a Quidditch game. There was a nail that stuck out about a half an inch in the right side of the arch. It didn't matter how I tried to stay away from it I was always pushed into it and it ripped my sodding clothes!
I removed the invisibility cloak just before I entered the arch; not only did I want my anonymous note sender to see me; I also didn't want to rip the cloak. And I particularly didn't want Harry to kill me for doing said action; even if he is really scary hot when he's mad. Hanging the liquid like fabric on the nail, I walked inside the pitch.