by Jas

Harry's POV

It's a new day of a new month; aspiring Seers gather early in the morning and foresee everyone's future, for the month. I've heard that they would pen their predictions on parchment and sell them. Not that I'll buy them at all. Quoting Lavender Brown yesterday, "You should take precaution, Harry" when she was trying to get me interested in her divination. What absolute moonshine. Sorry, Lavender, but I refuse to accept what that nincompoop teaches. I bet Ron could have come up something like that too. Something like

...Because Mercury and Neptune are directly across each other later on this month, I will suffer, as usual, and then there will be trouble, a few changes here and there, and blah, blah, blah. I never believed in the subject, never will either.

Speaking of my good friend Ron, I haven't really had the chance of seeking his help. It's not very reasonable that the Prefects are busy now that it's Christmas month. It's only the beginning of December! Teachers and Prefects have been tight-lipped about it. I'm surprised Professor Flitwick hasn't already told someone yet. Ginny claims that it's got to do with what Dumbledore has in store or something like that. Said she managed to force it out of her brother. So why's it those fortune-tellers don't already know?

I enter the Common Room, which is already in a very noisy state, even though it's still early. This sure isn't normal. I walk over to Ginny and Alexis, "Hey, what's the occasion?"

"Harry! Where were-- It's a ball, it's a ball!"

"Anyone care to further explain?"

"Oh, you know the thing Dumbledore's been planning?!"

I nod slowly; it's scary when girls are all so thrilled about something. And since nothing much makes sense now, it's better to agree with them first.

The pieces of information start to click together slowly. "Oh... sorry," I offer a weak grin. The only reason I can't think straight now, is that it's still quite early, and I was up waiting for Ron to come back. Apparently, he and Hermione had a little midnight rendezvous. Don't ask how I knew.

There certainly is something with girls and balls, because they seem really excited about it. I do hope it'll turn out better than the Yule Ball anyway. I thought that was quite a drag. And I don't dance.

"Who told you this?"

"Oh, the Divination students told us."

What divine shit, then. I smirk.

"What's so funny, Harry?"

Someone taps my shoulder and I'm saved from answering this question. It's Parvati Patil. She doesn't say anything till I ask her, "What is it?"

She hands me a roll of parchment, "Here's yours, Harry."

"But I don't--"

"No, it's Christmas month, we insist."

I really don't want this, but take the parchment from her anyway. This may be worth some entertainment.

"Hey, Potter!" Familiar voice, that one.

Malfoy. Who I could've so solemnly sworn wanted..., I'm not too sure about this.

He brings out this blackish, round-bottomed bottle, and flings it across the hallway. The bottle travels in slow motion. I see it spin; its contents being tossed about madly inside... I should dodge now

OW. WhatthefuckWhatthefuckWhatthefuckWhatthefuckWHATTHEFUCK?

It's odd that I did not move one bit. I am a Seeker with a Firebolt; the bottle should have shattered on the ground. But it landed hard on my head, very hard, probably enough to knock me out.

What the fuck?!

That was not even remotely funny; but he's not laughing. He doesn't even look pleased. Except, he looks bewildered. He's cracked! He'd better have a good explanation for this.

The silly boy doesn't realise that it's one of those magical bottles, and starts whacking it on every available hard surface. Thank God no one's around! But if he keeps up with this racket, people are going to burst out of the Hall soon enough.

"What the hell were you thinking?! Are you trying to fucking kill me?" He doesn't answer me. I guess he was trying to fucking kill me.

I take the bottle out from his hand, and still he's not responding. Maybe I could make him snap out of whatever it is by doing this...

Thip!

"What the fuck was THAT for?!" he says, sending a death glare spinning into me. "OW!"

"For giving me a bruise tomorrow morning, that's what!" I know I don't make much of an effort to look bloody terrific but I don't want something else on my forehead that other people can gawk at! The scar's quite enough!

He decides to uncork the bottle and show me its contents – which is sand. Smooth, cool sand, which collects on my hand. He's definitely cracked.

Well Malfoy, I'm sorry that your murder attempt failed. Something evidently is supposed to happen. Maybe I should forgive him. Yes, that would crush him a bit. "...I forgive you about the bruise." And I leave him in the corridor.

I'm quite certain I'm not getting my explanation anytime soon.

People look up when I enter the Hall, which is only habitual. Still, I do hope that they didn't hear anything. I reach up to flatten my fringe, walking quickly to the table to where my friends were seated... still smarting. These are the times when I wish my hair would stay flat instead of sticking out everywhere. I wish they were long enough to cover my forehead at least.

"What the HELL happened?!" Hermione demands when I sit down.

"'Mione, not here, please."

"But that!" She points to my head.

I move her finger away, "Please?"

"Fine, but you better tell me what's been going on, Harry." And she continues to slice her toast.

I eye Ron, who raises his brow. His girlfriend must have said whatever he wanted to say too. I wonder how he'll take it when I tell him, which will be soon enough.