Disclaimer: Bree is mine, the list is mine. The stuff from Harry Potter and Doctor who is not mine.
The next day was the first match of the Quidditch season. It was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin and the house rivalry was as intense as ever.
As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air.
As the Gryffindor team walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.
"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"
With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.
"All right there, Scarhead?" yelled Malfoy, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom.
Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.
"Close one, Harry!" said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harry saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.
Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.
Bree thought the Bludger looked a bit like a cannonball. She wondered what would happen if it hit Malfoy in the stomach. She grinned. "Entrails, entrails, falling from the sky." She sung under her breath, before deciding that she had had far too much sugar at breakfast, while everyone that had heard her slowly inched away.
559. Now allowed to randomly sing "Entrails, entrails, falling from the sky."
Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the Bludger zoomed after him. Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.
"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.
It had started to rain and Bree pulled out the umbrella she had brought with her.
"Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero." Bree heard Lee Jordan say.
The Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying close to him in order to keep him from getting hurt or killed. George signaled wood for a time out while stopping the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.
Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.
The Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. Bree silently planned the next prank she would pull on them.
After a few minutes, and an apparent argument, the game restarted. This time Harry was left to deal with the Bludger on his own. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled.
At one point, Harry hung in midair for to long and the Bludger caught up to him. It smashed into his elbow. From the funny way his arm now hung, Bree could tell it was broken.
The Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time zooming at his face. Harry swerved out of the way and went diving toward Malfoy.
Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch. Apparently he had caught the Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd as he headed straight for the ground. With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange, and most likely painful, angle. And then he passed out. Every Gryffindor rushed down to the field, as Fred and George wrestled the Bludger back into its box. Somehow, Lockhart got to Harry first. Harry regained consciousness. "Oh, no, not you," he moaned as soon as he saw Lockhart.
"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm." Hearing this. Bree panicked and tried to push her way to the front of the crowd right as Harry said "No! I'll keep it like this, thanks…"
He tried to sit up and noticed Colin nearby taking pictures.
"I don't want a photo of this, Colin," he said loudly.
"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times."
Bree pushed harder through the crowd. "Don't let him!" she said.
"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.
"He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say!"
"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.
"No!" Bree exclaimed, just as she broke through the crowd. But it was to late, Lockhart had already cast the spell. Harry's arm looked as if it was deflating. Bree glared at Lockhart. "I've had a lot of bad teachers before, but really, you just take the cake!" she snapped at him.
Lockhart winced. "Well the point is, the bones are no longer broken." he said.
"Broken! Broken! There are no bones at all. Harry didn't even want you to attempt helping him!" Bree shrieked.
"But you, the oh so fantastic Lockhart, thought you knew better than a healer. Now look at him." She ranted. The field was silent for a moment before Bree was calmed down enough to speak again. "You know," she began with a wicked grin, "in America someone would get sued for something like this." She stated.
"Sued?" Lockhart questioned weakly.
Bree nodded "Yes, sued. You know, you get taken to court and a judge takes all of your money to give to the victim for damages." She explained. Then she turned to Harry and helped him up. "Come on. Let's get you to the hospital wing, then we'll find you a lawyer."
Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.
"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm.
"I can mend bones in a second — but growing them back —"
"You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately.
"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas.
"You'll have to stay the night…"
Hermione and Bree waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Ron helped him into his pajamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve.
"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called through the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked."
"I wonder if this counts as assault." Bree wondered aloud. "Then we can get Lockhart arrested."
"Arrested!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's taking it to far. Anyone can make a mistake."
"One mistake yes. But this is starting to be a pattern. I wonder if I should keep a record. Then, at the very least, he can be fired for incompetence." Bree responded, before leaving the hospital wing, apparently off to start on her record.
The next morning word spread throughout the Great Hall the Colin Creevy had been petrified. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.
Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevy in Charms, was distraught. Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues.
They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.
Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pure-blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.
"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."
In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas, Bree, who already had other plans, didn't sign up.
Bree was staring at Harry with an odd look on her face. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" she asked.
"I asked if you could give me a firework." Harry answered.
"That's what I thought you said." Bree answered. She grinned. "Oh little Harry all grow up and ready to cause trouble, I'm so proud. Wait here a minute and I'll get you one." She went to her dorm and came back a minute later. "Now this one I free, but the next one will cost you." she stated as she handed Harry the firework.
"Right, thanks." said Harry.
Bree hadn't asked what Harry wanted the firework for, but she found out in potions class when Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon.
Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate. Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Harry saw Hermione slip quietly into Snape's office.
"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft. When I find out who did this…"
As half the class lumbered up to Snape's desk, some weighted down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffed-up lips, Harry saw Hermione slide back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.
When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.
"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."
Three days after the incident in potions, Bree was walking down the hall when she heard some first years whispering about Slytherin's monster. Bree smirked, sensing an opportunity.
"It doesn't really matter what kind of monster Slytherin had. What you really have to worry about is the Vashta Nerada." she told them.
"What is Vashta Nerada?" one girl questioned timidly.
"Almost every being on the planet, has an irrational fear of the dark, but they're wrong, 'cause it's not irrational, it's Vashta Nerada. It's what's in the dark. Tiny little things. Individually they're next to impossible to see. But they tend to form swarms, and as swarms you can see them. They tend to hang out in darkness, but in the light they look like shadows."
"Every shadow?" another first year interrupted.
"No, not every shadow, but any shadow. Especially the shadows cast by nothing. They are able to strip a creature to its bare bones in milliseconds. Hogwarts has a swarm or two. They mostly feed on house elves, but every once and awhile a student will go missing. Usually some poor little first year that got lost. So, make sure to stay in the light, and make sure that you know where every shadow is coming from." Bree explained.
"What do we do if we see a swarm of Vashta Nerada?" a boy asked.
"Daleks: Aim for the eyestalk. Sontarans: Back of the neck. Vashta Nerada: Run." Bree told them. "You can't fight them, you can't get rid of them. Just run." And with that she left.
197. Hogwarts is not infested with Vashta Nerada.
A few days later, word got around that there was going to be a dueling club. Bree wasn't going to go. She had detention with McGonagall for telling first years that Dumbledore was hiding gold under the womping willow.
33. There is no gold under the womping willow and it is wrong to tell first years that there is.
The next day she was glad she hadn't, Lockhart had been teaching, and on top of that it had been revealed that Harry could talk to snakes, so now most of the school thought he was the heir of Slytherin. When Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick turned up petrified, the rumors gained even more momentum.
Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through…"
Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.
"It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly.
"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Harry's in a hurry."
"Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," said George, chortling.
Ginny didn't find it amusing either.
"Oh, don't," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met.
Bree took a very different approach to the situation. By distracting everyone by drawing Satanic symbols on the walls in red. This worked as the wizaeding population of the school were busy trying to figure out what the symbols meant and didn't have time to bother Harry.
76. Not allowed draw Satanic symbols on the walls.
She was quickly caught and given detention by McGonagall. She wasn't able to do much more because she had to leave for Christmas break.
So…guess what episode of Doctor Who I've been watching!
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