Harry groaned, closing his eyes and preparing himself for the inevitable. Then, the Howler continued.
"You are the apple to my eye!" it screamed in a horrible parody of the Muggle song, causing Harry's own eyes to tear because the letter was blasting its breath into his face. "That's why I'll always be around! I'll be the apple to your eye!" it continued, and now there was not much of the Muggle song resemblance left, "Just wait till I got you around!"
Harry was frozen in his seat, unaware that the rest of the Great Hall was following his example. Snape was cackling gleefully under his breath - because, hey, it wasn't every day that the Potter brat got so embarrassed - until his lover kicked his shin. Dumbledore was twinkling away merrily, seemingly unaware of the painfully uncomfortable situation.
The Howler went up in flames.
No one seemed to notice.
Harry's face couldn't decide whether it should deepen or drain its colour at the moment. It settled on alternately blushing and blanching, making Harry appear as if someone was switching a red bulb underneath his face just for the fun of it.
"How poetic," Seamus chortled, his own face bright red because he had held in his retort for so long. "Anyone recognize the voice?"
Harry was still somewhere off in shell-shock-land. He vaguely registered Seamus and Dean discussing the possible singer of this message. Hermione was trying to shut them up. And Ron was back to wolfing down his breakfast as if nothing interesting had happened.
Like in trance, Harry pushed back his seat and made to leave.
"Where're you going, mate?" Ron asked, chewing openly. "Potions doesn't start for another half an hour."
"Just going for a bit of a walk," Harry said.
Follow to the Hallway