CHAPTER NINETEEN

NOTE: This is the newer version of this chapter, the other one was hard to read, so I'm so sorry, here!

Hi. I don't own. To everyone who has supported me, warm virtual hugs to you all! Harry, can you give them their present?

*Toddler Harry with lopsided smile and glasses wobbles over and gives you all a huge hug* Thanks. ONWARDS!

It's funny how things can change so quickly in just a few days. After I took some deep, calming breaths on the day in the Hospital Wing, I went back to being myself, intent on forgetting the incident.

Harry had gotten his Firebolt back, but we didn't celebrate for long. Ron came screaming like a little girl into the dormitory, saying that Scabbers had been killed by Crookshanks. I probably shouldn't have felt that way, but I was a little glad. Just a little, because the whole Pettigrew thing had freaked me out. Of course, that gladness disappeared whenever I thought about a dissected rat slipping down a throat.

And of course, that gladness completely vanished when Ron and Hermione refused to look or talk to each other. They could barely stay in the same room together without exploding.

"Come on, Ron, you want to watch the Quidditch Practice?" Harry shot me a desperate look, that said, HELP…

I smiled. "Yeah, maybe you can even shoot some hoops." I coughed. "Erm…Scabbers wouldn't want you to waste precious Firebolt time…"I emphasized the word Firebolt, trying to keep a straight face. Tom snickered.

Ron leaped to his feet, a growing smile on his face. "Great!" His freckles stood out more on his paler skin since he hadn't eaten much, I noticed. Harry and I shared a shrugging grin. Whatever worked.

I just sat on the bleachers, watching in awe as the Firebolt swung in the sky, glistening and swooping. At the end, Ron got to take a spin on it, and I could already see his grin as the Firebolt, well, bolted through the air like a bird. It looked awesome; I couldn't wait until I got to ride on my own Firebolt.

"Hey, Harry," I said absentmindedly. "Maybe we can go riding sometime again. I got my own broom."

Harry, who was sitting one seat next to me, whirled around. "Snape got you a broom?" he sounded surprised and incredulous at the same time.

Then, his mouth morphed into a smile. "That's great!" he hesitated. "Were you serious about riding again? On brooms?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course; what did you think? That we were going to ride on worms?"

HHHHHHHHPPPPPPPOOOOOO

I burst out laughing at Draco's livid face. The whole Slytherin team was eying the Firebolt, looking as if the Ministry had just declared muggleborns true heirs of the Wizarding World.

Harry grinned and held the Firebolt tightly, face triumphant when he saw Draco.

As soon as I sat down on the Slytherin table, more Slytherins talked to me than ever before.

"Was it really a Firebolt, then?"

"-Stop pushing, Zabini-Gryffindor has a higher chance of winning now-"

"-Shut up; they don't stand a slim of a chance-is it really a Firebolt?"

I smiled and gestured towards the table. "Well, the Gryffindor table's right there; go see for yourselves." But of course, Slytherin pride got in the way, so none of them would approach the table. Finally, after a bunch of hissing, chatting, and shoving, Draco reluctantly got to his feet and swaggered-literally-pompously over to the table.

When he got back, he looked glum and angry. "Potter has a Firebolt." He confirmed, upset and furious. The table broke into angry whispers again, and someone whined, "Potter got a Firebolt before me?"

"'Course," someone snapped. "Potter gets everything, that spoiled brat." I clenched my fists.

"Harry does not get everything. And he's not spoiled at all, unlike you." I retorted and shot a glare at the thunderstruck fifth-year. He sneered at me and backed off, turning to his friends, bragging about some present he got.

HHHHHHHPPPPPOOOOO

"YES! YES!" I cheered as Harry's fist went up, the Golden Snitch's wings poking out, quivering slightly as Harry shook his fist with excitement.

"AND GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee Jordan, the commenter, shouted, and Mcgonagall pushed the microphone down from his lips as he was screaming so loud. Half the stadium covered their ears but kept cheering. The Ravenclaws tromped off, but nobody was paying any attention.

Harry, meanwhile, was being buried under the Gryffindor team, and as soon as he got out he stumbled as celebrating Gryffindors hugged him hard. I smiled and caught his eye, giving him a thumbs up. He grinned and only managed to push his crooked glasses upwards before he was engulfed in another wave of people.

When he finally met up with him, I hugged him. "Back on that winning streak, huh?" I teased, and he grinned.

"Yeah, I reckon so," he replied, beaming as he cast a happy glance over at Hooch, who was busy latching the Snitch into the chest. Wood was doing some kind of happy dance that required two hands in the air like a robot and a pair of jumpy feet. I laughed and straightened my red-and-gold headband.

It was such a great moment. I should have known it wouldn't last.

HHHHHHPPPPPPPPOOOOOO

I blinked. What're you doing up this early? Tom frowned.

Yawning, I shrugged. Dad's up; strange. I checked the time. Four thirty.

I opened the door, pajamas still on. Dad's head was drooped lower, and the quill in his hand sat unmoving. "Sleep much?" I queried softly, and his head snapped up, turning to glare.

"Go back to sleep. It's too early. I need to run an errand." He dipped his quill in ink again and signed the parchment, scrolling it up.

"No way. I'm up. Don't you need to teach tomorrow? I doubt we'll be able to learn much if you're half-asleep. I'll run the errand." I took the parchment and it read, Minerva Mcgonagall. He frowned at me.

"It's too early for you to be-"

I cut him off. "I promise I'll go back to sleep. Go to bed; you look like you haven't slept in years." I opened his bedroom door and went up to his bed. Grabbing a pillow, I tossed it at him, which smacked him in the face (earning myself a glare I returned with a smirk), then trudged outside, searching for Mcgonagall's office.

"Password?"

You didn't ask your father the password. Tom pointed out. I sighed.

"Um…I just need her mailbox, if she has one." My fingers curled around the scroll. Mcgonagall came out with a panicky boy.

"Miss Celia? What are you doing here?" For a moment, my cheeks heated in embarrassment as I realized I was wearing my pajamas. Her eyes flickered over my clothes briefly, and I tried to hand the parchment over, but she had already stalked away with the boy.

I stared at her retreating back, hesitant, then quickly followed.

Right through the Portrait Hole, where Sir Cadagon sniffed at me ("In my days, women wore dresses, like proper ladies!") but let me through, as Mcgonagall impatiently snapped at me to follow so she could do whatever I had come to her for.

"Now really, that's enough!" She slammed the portrait behind her with a convincing bang and I jumped trying to blend in with the reddish walls.

Percy was trying to say that Ron had a nightmare, and I cast a questioning look as Harry, who was struggling to straighten his glasses.

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE! PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME HOLDING A KNIFE!" Ron bellowed, shaking so hard his face was a blur.

I gaped at him, like the rest of the Gryffindors, who were eyeing the room suspiciously.

"Ron, are you sure it wasn't a dream? Maybe-" My mind spun with panic. No bloody way. No. No. Eyes darted to Harry, as if to make sure a knife wouldn't suddenly go through him and he would crumple to the ground, Sirius Black sallow-eyed and grinning behind him, holding a red-tipped dagger dripping with hot blood…

I shuddered.

Ron pointed a shaky finger at the portrait hole. "A-ask him…" he trembled.

Suspiciously, Mcgonagall opened the portrait hole and went outside; I was too worried about Harry to follow. My knuckles turned white as the common room listened with bated breath, an occasional sniff and a "Shut up".

"Sir Cadagon, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

I came to my senses and went outside, remembering the parchment. Tom pressed his lips together tightly. This really isn't the time…

I know that, you dunderhead. My fingers tapped the parchment in my palm. Sir Cadagon raised his eyebrows at me with distaste.

"One I let in is standing right here…lady in pants…hmf! In my days..." He proclaimed, and I self-consciously tugged my top pajamas down lower. Mcgonagall frowned, turning her head to look at me, then back at the portrait.

"Sir Cadagon." She said sternly, warning in her tone. Sir Cadagon bowed deeply.

"Yes, good lady!"

Silence. You could hear a pin drop. I gasped. "But-the passwords!" Sir Cadagon ignored me.

Mcgonagall rapped the portrait frame once, and sharply said, "Sir Cadagon. Answer her, please."

"He had 'em! Read 'em off a little piece 'o paper!" Sir Cadagon said proudly, refusing to stare at me.

Mcgonagall blanched, white as chalk, and pulled herself back into the portrait hole.

"Hey! Bumbling Codfish!" I snapped at Sir Cadagon, who was trying to seal me off from the common room. He reluctantly swung the hole back open, and I climbed through.

The crowd was tittering nervously. Mcgonagall was saying shakily." –down this week's passwords and left them foolishly lying around?"

Ron cast me a suspicious glance, since I was the only other non-Gryiffindor student who knew the passwords, but Harry nudged him, not even glancing at me. Someone squeaked, terrified.

A pasty, trembling hand rose up in the air. The hand belonged to Neville Longbottom.

I really do feel bad for Neville. When I read that part I was like, "Neville bashing…" next up is Snape's Grudge from the book! PS, the picture made me burst out laughing. Snape's square head…lol