Warning: ALL FLEE IN FEAR OF THEHORRID MARY SUE! FLEE I TELL YOU!
Disclaimer: JKR. Not mine. Got it?
Chapter Five: And Now For The Main Event
"I can't believe you mouthed off to Snape! In his own class!" Ron was dumbstruck as we all left Potions that morning and headed for lunch.
"I can't believe it either," I shrugged, "But come on. Getting on my case just because I'm American? I'm not even really that American—I was born in England just like all of you!"
"Really?" Hermione asked.
"Born in London, raised in New York. I'm the best of all worlds," I grinned.
Truth was, I had no idea how I'd made it out of double Potions alive. I felt horrible for losing thirty points on my first day—which I assumed was a record loss. It didn't help having Malfoy snickering behind me the entire class either, but Harry encouraged me by saying he'd probably get tired of mocking me and move back to him. Joy.
"It could've been worse," Harry shrugged as we strode into the Great Hall.
"Really?" I said, flopping down near a pile of sandwiches. I turned to him and raised an eyebrow, "Enlighten me, oh Buddha. How could it possibly be worse?"
"Well," Harry began, rolling his eyes, "He could've jinxed your broom, tried to have you expelled, attempt to kill your godfather to fulfill some personal vendetta…but that's just what he's tried to do to me."
My eyes were bugging out of my head, "How does a psycho like that get in a position that lets him near any life forms at all? Charles Manson could teach Potions with more compassion!"
"Well, he didn't actually jinx my broom, "Harry admitted.
I shook my head. "Forget it. Hey, Hermione pass me the salad."
Thankfully, the gang tried to get my mind off my first day shortcomings by filling me in on some stories of their own. My mind went into overload somewhere between the three-headed dog, Voldemort, and the werewolf teacher. What the hell kind of school is this? I seriously thought they were pulling my leg, but the more they went on about magical stones, a giant snake, and the escaped convict godfather the more I realized they must have been telling the truth. No one could come up with that much BS, I thought, except television evangelists. How the three of them could even be there stuffing their faces with me was beyond my comprehension. I found myself wondering if I would play any part in their adventures this year.
"Nice class today, eh, Bradshaw?" someone asked icily from behind us. I spun around to find myself face to face with Malfoy—flocked by his cronies again.
"Invigorating actually," I said sarcastically.
"Back off, Malfoy," Harry said, standing up. I could see his fists beginning to clench, but I wasn't about to let him start getting in a fight over me. I reached over and grabbed his robe while Hermione and Ron glared on.
"I don't know which is worse about this place. The mudbloods or the bloody Americans!" Malfoy laughed.
Now I was on my feet, "Big talk for someone flanked by his own personal bodyguard." My face was flaming and my fists were clenched so tight I could feel them go white, "Care to see some Yankee pride jammed down your throat?"
"Fight with you?" Malfoy mused. His voice sounded like oil, "Like a common Muggle? This is a real magic school—not the flea-ridden box you have the audacity to call a school in America. We have wizard duels, not fist fights, but I suspect no one where you come from knows how to have a proper duel—"
"Reggie don't!" Hermione was on her feet and straining over the table to hold back my robes. The platter of sandwiches went clattering to the floor. Now Ron was flanking Harry's left.
"That's what separates a real man from a coward! What's wrong, Malfoy? Afraid to take on a girl without your precious little magic stick?" I screamed, brandishing a fist.
Now it was Malfoy's turn to be held back. All eyes in the Great Hall were locked on all of us—waiting to see which one would strike first. It didn't even occur to anyone that there were, for once, no teachers in the hall. I felt an adrenaline rush that I hadn't felt in a real long time. Like I said before, I like giving it to bullies when they have it coming—and Malfoy definitely had it coming.
"Dirty Yank!"
"Slimy Brit!"
"Sod off!"
"Bite me, Snake boy!"
At that point all grips were lost and I can only summarize the melee that ensued. I do recall several platters being used as shields and an ungodly amount of kicking and hair pulling. I am happy to say that I did land two well-guided punches to Malfoy's right eye and jaw. Unfortunately, Crabbe reciprocated on Harry while a few more Slytherins tried to work Ron's stomach. Hermione was quite the tiger jumping on the back of Pansy Parkinson and yanking her hair back while riding her across the isle. In the background I could hear the screaming of students as they cheered us on. It was invigorating—like being back in the hallways at home. I should've been paying more attention to the voices dimming down otherwise I would've heard them coming.
"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME IS GOING ON HERE!"
We all froze mid punch and looked around in confusion. McGonagall and Snape were standing over our little pile of fun. I had one hand on Malfoy's robe while winding back for another punch—he had a fistful of my hair and a hand around my throat. Harry was sitting on top of Goyle while Ron had been in Crabbe's headlock. Hermione and Pansy were just a tangle of hair and limbs, but had finally ceased clawing each other. McGonagall was surveying our damage, but Snape had his eyes locked on just one person. Me.
"Do you care to explain yourself, Miss Bradshaw?" He hissed. It was amazing he could still see me through those two slits on his head.
"I—I—I—" I stammered. As I felt blood trickling down my lip I saw my life flash before my eyes. It ended with me in a dungeon receiving Chinese water torture from Snape personally. I looked around at everyone who was finally coming to realize what had just happened. Harry's left eye had already begun to swell, Ron's right cheek was bruising, and Hermione was using a napkin to cover up the claw marks on her face. The other Slytherins didn't look much better nursing similar wounds.
Now I know what they mean by "Bloody hell"…
"It wasn't all her fault," a voice quipped up. We all turned around to see Jane Andrews, the little Ravenclaw girl, shaking as she approached the table.
"What do you mean, Miss Andrews?" McGonagall snapped. If her lips went any tighter I swore they would pinch right off her face.
"Malfoy was making fun of her being American and all and they were shouting and—and—and—" she looked about ready to pass out, "and then they all started at once."
Snape and McGonagall turned back to us. We had finally managed to detangle ourselves from each other and join our houses, but still found time to glare menacingly at one another. Snape was still glaring at me, but had quickly moved onto Harry. Fortunately, McGonagall was doing her part to intimidate the Slytherins. I looked over at Harry who gave me the faintest smile. At least he wasn't missing any teeth.
"All of you will have ten points docked from your houses. Slytherins will receive detentions with me—Gryffindors with Professor Snape." McGonagall snapped.
"But, Professor—" I began to approach her.
"Miss Bradshaw, I understand that it is your first day. I understand that this is probably not all your doing, but I know you definitely had a hand in it. I think it would be very wise if for once today you would shut your mouth!" McGonagall cried. There were actually stray hairs flying out that made her look even more intimidating like Medusa.
I gulped, "Yes, ma'am."
As McGonagall turned to leave the Slytherins turned back to their tables. Snape, however, found it amusing to hover over us and sneer for a few moments. The four of us began reaching for our bags, no longer hungry, when Snape finally spoke up.
"The four of you will meet me in the Potions classroom tonight at nine o'clock. I suggest you wear something suitable for very harsh manual labor," and with a final glare he turned and glided out of the hall.
We stood there dumbstruck for a few minutes. I looked at the three of them—each nursing different wounds. I thought about the past twenty-four hours and the absolute absurdity of events that had occurred. I thought about how Malfoy had looked terrified when I had lunged at him. I thought about what I had told the hat about getting myself expelled. Then I started to laugh. At first it was just giggling, but as I looked at the shocked look on the rest of them I started flat out laughing. Then Harry joined in, pointing at my own shiner on my left eye. Then Ron and Hermione started snickering at the whole situation. Pretty soon, the four of us were howling and clutching our sides as we made our way from the Great Hall and toward our next classes. It was the first time anyone at Hogwarts could remember a fight without using a wand. Some student ambassador I was turning out to be.
As we made our way out of the castle and down towards the forest one fact stood clear out in our minds. Detention was going to be a real pain in the arse.