The rest of the week flew by.

Well, alright, it didn't fly by. I mean, in History of Magic, time just about crawled by without any feet. And Herbology was frankly terrible. We were put into groups. I was working with Ashleigh, a Ravenclaw called Damian, and Potter.

I won't go through the whole thing. But here's a snippet anyway, because we all know you're just dying to know what happened.

Me: (Working quietly. Well, not so quietly, seeing as we were working with Chinese Chomping Cabbages, and they keep latching onto your shirt and refusing to let go. So I was cursing quietly under my breath as I wrestled with it.)

Potter: Not too good at the old Herbology business, are ya, Evans?

Me: Aragh, you little git…no, come on, get off my robe - OUCH! THAT WAS MY FINGER, YOU TWAT! (Seizes trowl and starts beating the Cabbage fiercely around the head with it. Like I say, cursing quietly under my breath)

Potter: You know, maybe if you were a bit friendlier, people would like you more, and do what you say.

Me: (Distractedly) Potter, cabbages aren't people, you complete and utter moron.

Potter: But they have feelings too. Maybe that cabbage is trying to get to know you. Look, it's been ripped cruelly from its soil, it's tried to get some comfort from you, and all you do it beat it with a trowl. Frankly, I'm disgusted.

Me: (Looks down at cabbage. It's blinking up at me with big, sorrowful eyes. Maybe Potter has a point. So, I adopt a soothing, low voice.) Hello, cabbage-wabbage. Could you please get off my shirty-wirty for mummy-wummy?

Cabbage: (Snarls and starts tearing my shirt to shreds)

So as you can see, apart from those hours of such fun in the greenhouse and various classrooms, the week scampered along quite merrily by.

Unfortunately, that meant my next detention with Potter was also scampering merrily closer as well.

Which was, to put it simply, crap.

So anyway, it was a Friday evening, it was time for my second detention, I was feeling like crap, and to top it off, was walking to some teacher called Trelawney's office.

According to McGonagall, she lives at the top of the North Tower. Ze very top. My chest gave a wheezy rattle as I thumped up yet another spiral of stairs. This Trelawney must be either very fit or have incredibly long legs. Imagine having to climb up all these stairs every time you wanted to nip back to your office because you left, like, one book behind. I don't think I could stand it. I mean, I had only done about thirty steps and I was already about to pass out.

Thumpety, thumpety, thump, said my feet, clumping up the stairs.

Breathe in…(gasp) and out…said my brain.

Thumpety…thumpety…thump, my feet complained.

Shut up! Breathe in…(rattling gasp) and out…snapped my brain.

Thump…thu…thu…I think we're dying down here whispered my feet.

No! Just keep moving! Breathe in…and out…

Thu…thu…goodbye, cruel world…

Feetie! NOOOOO!

"There was a man who had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o!"

I looked up as a huge, hyperactive outline of something horribly familiar came bounding up the stairs. Oh, for God's sake. Why can't he, for once, just not find me?

Potter came skipping around the loop of stairs, stopping when he saw me. I sneered up at him as he towered over me, one hand ruffling up his hair.

"What?" I snapped up at him, "Got something to say?"

"Yeah, actually. Why are you on the floor?"

I leant my elbows back on the step above me, stretching my legs out like I was really comfy. Because I go lounging on hard stone staircases every day, y'know. "Why not?"

He stared at me as though lost for words. Then he said: "You'll be late for Trelawney."

I shrugged. "So? She can wait."

He looked, if it was possible, even more shocked. "Aren't you worried about getting into trouble?"

Of course I bloody was. But saying that I wasn't seemed a whole lot better than admitting I had collapsed on the stairs from exhaustion. "Not really."

He stood there, staring at me for a few more minutes. I stared back. He stared at me some more. I stared back. He widened his eyes to frankly scary proportions and stared.

I blinked.

"Ha!" he shouted, pointing his finger at me, "I win!"

I raised an eyebrow. Or squinted, however you want to put it. "You win what?"

"You blinked, so I won! Ha ha ha!"

I climbed slowly to my feet, and looked at him with a pretty damn dignified air. He smirked back at me, rumpling up his hair, looking well pleased with himself.

"Yes, Potter," I said slowly, "If you say so." And with that, I turned around and continued on up the torturous stairs.

He soon caught up with me, however. Damn him and his long legs.

I wasn't in the mood for conversation. All of my effort was going into not passing out. Damn, but I should really work out more. I never realised I was so un-fit.

And why did Potter look so...so not worn out? I glanced sideways at him, and was horrified to see that he was actually smiling as he mounted the stairs. And humming. Merlin and all the saints, what was wrong with him?

Oh, my mistake, he wasn't humming. He was singing, now.

"Theeeeeere...was a man who had a dog and Bingo was his name-oh!"

Dear Lord.

"Q-U-V-C-T!"

Huh?

"Q-U-V-C-T!"

Okay...that was a new one.

"Q-U-V-C-T, and spelling was his problem!"

The landing of the North Tower had never looked so welcoming.

0o0

So, what could I say about the new Divination teacher? Well, she owned a lot of crystal balls and seemed to have a penchant for all things sparkly.

Oh, and she was as nutty as a fruitcake. That too.

I should have known from the second I saw her oversized glasses that she wasn't entirely sane. I mean, the second I climbed up that damn silvery ladder of hers, I looked up and nearly fell straight back down it again out of sheer terror. I mean, all I could see were these HUGE eyes looming at me out of the darkness, floating somewhere in the middle of the sparkliest, floatiest bit of material you had ever seen. Not to mention she was holding a large, round silver thing in her hand, which from my point of view looked like a very big bouncy ball.

ARRRRAAAAGH was my first thought.

RUUUNN AWAAAAAAY was my second.

OH CRAP NO I CAN'T POTTER'S BEHIND ME fast followed my third.

HANG ON POTTER MUST BE ABLE TO SEE RIGHT UP MY SKIRT came my fourth thought. Which was more than enough to get me scrambling madly into the loft, for I had just remembered what knickers I had put on that morning, and wishing I hadn't. So anyway, there we were, me lying in a heap on the floor, frantically covering my legs, Potter sticking his head through the hole, and the big-eyed monster bearing down on us armed with a bouncy ball. Hey, that rhymed. Kinda.

"Good evening," she whispered mystically, ignoring the fact that I was grovelling on the floor by her feet, "Welcome...welcome."

"Thanks," muttered Potter, clumping noisily up the ladder, then surprisingly offering me his hand. As I climbed back to my feet, he sniffed the air. "D'you smoke lavender fags, or something?"

"Don't be so stupid," I snapped at him, dusting myself down. Alright, I know it was bitchy, but being floored can do that to you. Plus I bet he was looking up my skirt when we were on the ladder. I sniffed at the air myself. "That's jasmine."

"Correct!" Trelawney looked impressed. "Such a coincidence you have noticed that, my dear...for it is with jasmine scented polish you clean my crystal balls, today."

Then she showed us these little stools to sit on, with shelves and shelves of crystal balls behind them. Along with a can of Mrs Skower's jasmine polish ('remove the stain, without the pain!') and we were ready to go.

"Make sure you put the crystal balls back on the shelves when you have finished, my dears!" trilled Trelawney's voice, floating up from the landing where she was doing…something. Cow. I was starting to hate her already. My head swam as I reached for another shiny ball, and I had to have several tries before I actually made my duster make contact with its surface. Urugh. That scent was making me feel nauseous. God, I hoped Potter wouldn't talk to me. In that state, I wouldn't be able to summon up my usual amount of wittiness. Cough.

"So, Evans. Are you having fun? Do you like polishing?"

"Shudup." See what I'm saying? Even I can usually come up with a better comeback than that. Potter, I could see, had clocked my dopey state, if his wide gleaming grin was anything to go by.

"I was only asking you a polite question! Gosh!" The mock-sincere tone in his voice was…um, very mocking. He was annoying me senseless and he knew it. Unfortunately, I didn't have the brain capacity to just ignore him.

"Shudup."

"Evans, I'm surprised at you. Usually you show a bit more imagination than that…"

"SHUT UP BEFORE I RAM THIS CRYSTAL BALL UP YOUR ARSE!"

He nodded approvingly. "That's more like it."

I groaned loudly, and thunked the crystal ball against my forehead. "Potter. I don't think you're taking the hint. I. Want. You. To. Shut. UP!"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll…I'll…" I struggled, hoping for inspiration. Then it came to me. "Or I'll tell Katy that you're two-timing her!"

He gave me a genuinely blank look. "Who?" Light suddenly dawned on his face, and he grinned at me. "Oh, THAT Katy."

I looked at him in disbelief. "You can't remember your own girlfriends name?"

"Why should I? It's not like I spend my time talking to her."

I felt like vomiting, an image falling into my head that I did NOT want there. "God, Potter, spare me the details!"

"You asked."

I sat there, struggling for an insult. And none came to me. Dang nabbit. "Shudup."

He laughed, then shoved two crystal balls at me. "Put these back on the shelves." He jerked his thumb at the shelves. "Please," he added as an afterthought.

Well, seeing as he said please.

Wearily, I heaved myself to my feet, simultaneously balancing two heavy balls in my hands. Toddling sleepily to the shelves, I squinted up at the dark, hollow shelves, trying to figure out where to put them. There were two available spaces, but…ah.

Evans, we have a problem.

The holes were about two arms lengths away from the top of my head. Oh, why did I have to inherit the average height gene? Why couldn't I have been born someone as tall as Potter, just so I could solve my problem at this moment?

So, I had but two solutions. One: I could try hurling the balls up to the spaces. Which wasn't really the best of ideas, I didn't fancy a huge crater-like dent in my forehead for the rest of my life. Or two, I could try some alternative method.

I'm not really sure what happened next, but somewhere in my jasmine possessed mind a idea sprang up, telling me to try climbing the shelves, and the next thing I knew, I was half way up the shelves with the crystal balls shoved down my jumper.

So there I was, looking as though I had just sprouted size X tits, clinging to a rickety bunch of shelves for all the world as though I was a large breasted form of spider-man.

Smooth, Evans. Real smooth.

Somewhere along the line Potter chanced a glance up at me. Perv. Probably just looking for an eyeful of my underwear again.

"Evans! What the hell are you doing?"

I shot him a scathing look out of the corner of my eye. "Taking a bloody bath, what does it look like?"

"Get down from there, for Merlin's sake, you'll break your neck!"

I giggled feebly. "That rhymed. You're a know-it and you didn't po -et!"

"Evans, for God's sake, I'm being serious! Get down!"

Something about the panic in his voice actually stopped me for a moment, and I paused in action of reaching up for another shelf. "But I'm nearly there!" I said plaintively, "Just a bit higher!"

"Evans. Get. Down. NOW!"

Whoa. Potter had entered Scary Potter mode. And trust me, Potter's angry voice smashing into you like a shock-wave while you're clinging to a lot of shelves can seriously make you stop and think about what you're doing.

"Oh, alright," I moaned, "I'll come back down, if it'll stop you squeaking at me."

Ha. Easier said than done. As I cautiously lowered my foot to touch the lower shelf, my fingers dislodged a crystal ball above me. Looking up, I caught a passing glimpse of a very large, shiny bouncy ball heading on an unhappy path straight for my face.

One minute, I was dangling from a lot of shaky shelves. And the next minute, the shelves simply weren't there any more.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0