It's Quidditch
Time!
Author: Ron Weasley
Date: 06-30-03 01:42
Ron woke early Saturday morning with Captian Electron still ringing in his head. The Valentine's Day dance had been way more fun than he had anticipated. Hermione looked great, the music was good, and he even didn't mind dancing all that much. But Ron pushed these happy thoughts of the evening's festivities to the back of his mind. It was time to think about Quidditch!
Ron skipped breakfast that morning and went straight to the pitch to start warming up. Apparently Toby Beck, the captain of the Hufflepuff team had the same idea.
"Morning Weasley!" Toby yelled across the pitch, flashing his charming smile. "Looked like you had a good bit of fun last night! Hope it hasn't affected your game!"
Ron studied the young man who caused every Hogwarts girl to swoon, even Hermione sometimes, but stood his ground defiantly. "You wish, Beck, don't you just wish. I can't even remember a day when Hufflepuff won in a match against Gryffindor!"
"Is that so?" Toby replied coyly. "Maybe today that will all change," and with a wink and grin, Toby flew back to his side of the pitch, and continued warming up.
Come Saturday
Morning...
Author: Albus Dumbledore
Date: 06-30-03 08:21
Still somewhat exhausted from "refereeing" the Valentine's Dance, I stagger to my desk still dressed in my night-robe and stocking cap. With a hot cup of strong tea in one hand, I begin sorting through the remainder of Friday's correspondence. All of the advertisements I stack in a neat pile for burning, leaving only six or seven messages to attend to.
Right on top is one I have been expecting. Professor Sinistra has been rather moody of late. Seems to have seen something in the stars, to coin a phrase. This appears to be her note of resignation, with apologies for leaving in the middle of the term. Well, since we had seen it coming, Minerva has lined up a replacement. Let's see now. Where is that note? Ah yes! Here it is... Kale... Isannah Kale. I prepare a message to Miss... I suppose it is, Miss... Kale.
My Dear Miss Kale,
It appears that we have a need for a new astronomy instructor at Hogwarts. I am aware that you approached my assistant, Professor McGonagall, some time ago. If you are still available, could you arrange to come by my office today or tomorrow to discuss terms. You can apparate directly to Hogsmeade. The Castle is only a short walk or, if you like, you can take one of the magical carriages. I shall be at the Quidditch Match for most of the morning, but if you inform my House Elf, Londy, she can get a message to me.
Best regards,
Albus Dumbledore,
Headmaster, Hogwarts
Londy appears with a plate of hot, buttered scones. I thank her with a couple of lemon sherbets and continue with my mail. I find nothing of any great significance or needing my immediate attention. Finishing my breakfast, I hurriedly dress for the outdoors, and head off to the Quidditch Pitch.
To Hell With
Love
Author: Veronica Dumbledore
Date: 06-30-03 08:31
"To Hell with love..." Veronica had mumbled angrily under her breath as she made her way to the kitchen. There was no way she could bring herself to sit at the same table as Snape... not today.
Around Christmas time, she had been shot down in her attempts to tell him she was in love. Since then she couldn't bring herself to go near him. He didn't know it was her sending him the letters, but it didn't change how she felt. She was hurt.
In most respect she couldn't blame him for perhaps ignoring the notes. Severus wouldn't exactly be the first man you think of when you imagine a secret crush and a past of pain had in some ways made him immune to emotion, she thought.
She understood as well. Deep down she had decided she would only be angry a while longer, then she would forgive and forget. After all, she would have felt the same way. God knows the only time the fates would smile upon her would be a smile of malevolence as they cut her life strings away. She could never be called lucky and would certainly have ignored any love letters she got.
The year had been trying her patience more and more each day from failed attempts at love to failed attempts at teaching but she wasn't about to give in to it all. She was going to keep chin up and prove she could live up to every expectation her Uncle Albus had for her.
She stopped in front of the portrait of the fruit that marked the entrance to the kitchen. A good meal and some rest and she would be ready to go back to planning lessons, pleased that this damned holiday was almost at a close.
Pre-game Nerves
Author: H Potter
Date: 06-30-03 09:31
Harry tiredly paces nervously around the locker room and wishing he'd gotten to bed a little earlier the night before. With every measured step he takes, Harry attempts to remember each word of pep talk he'd worked on writing all week. Much to his chagrin all he can think about is the Gryffindor's utterly horribly display in their first game back in November against Slytherin. Not only a bitter loss to the snakes but Gryffindor didn't even score so much as a single goal. Harry's main hope at this point is all these weeks of additional practice have finally allowed the team to gel together in a game. They have to at least score once this time around!
Interruption
Author: Isannah Kale
Date: 06-30-03 10:13
Isannah Kale spent a lot of time lying on her back.
It was the best way to look at the stars, really, even better than through a telescope in many instances, since one can really get the big picture of things... nothing clouded by technology, or even magic. Just the pure beauty of the skies. The faded blue patchwork quilt that she took with her nearly everywhere she went was underneath her now as she peered up at the moon, a notebook held high above her head as she scribbled notes about an arrangement of stars surrounding it.
She was so lost in her work that when the owl came flying towards her at quite a snip, its wings beating around her notebook, it scared the living daylights out of her. She screamed and scrambled to her feet, and then immediately tripped on her robes and tumbled back onto the quilt. By then, she realized what had happened, and took a deep breath, urging the alarmed owl closer.
"Sorry, friend," she said. "Have you something for me?" The owl dropped an envelope at her feet and flew away, obviously not impressed by her apology.
Isannah picked up the envelope and smile broadly, seeing that it was from Albus Dumbledore, and her smile widened after she read it.
Oh, how wonderful! She had just been considering seeking a teaching position somewhere else, since she couldn't really think of anything else that she was suited to do while she worked on her book, but she had really wanted to return to Hogwarts. Now it appeared as if Professor Sinistra had flown the coop, leaving the astronomy position vacant for her!
She gathered up her notebook and quilt and glanced up at the sky. Well, it was nighttime here, but she was nearly halfway across the world, so therefore, if she apparated to Hogsmeade right now... it would be afternoon, and she would be there just as Dumbledore had requested.
Making a mental note to send for her belongings later, she took a deep breath and disapparated with a small *pop*.
A White Quidditch
Day
Author: Madam Hooch
Date: 06-30-03 15:50
Feb. 15, 97
The masses were making their way to the pitch dressed in their warmest. A trail could be seen in the snow marking the path the students and staff were taking. Toby and Ron had rejoined their teams in the locker rooms.
The chest of balls had already been placed in the center of the pitch. Madam Hooch stood next to it making sure that nobody tried to jinx the balls.
The teams made their appearance on the field. The captains came up to the middle and shook hands.
"To your brooms!" announced Madam Hooch. She blew her whistle and the players and balls went to the sky.
It Starts
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 06-30-03 16:22
Bronwyn sat among the professors and other staff at Hogwarts, eagerly awaiting the start of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and her own house, Hufflepuff. As soon as Madam Hooch initiated the game, Bronwyn shouted, "Hello Hogwarts! It's time for Quidditch!"
Roars of enthusiasm echoed throughout the stadium as she continued to shout, "Today's match is between Gryffindor," she paused for cheers, "and Hufflepuff!" Although she couldn't cry out her support for Hufflepuff, she wore a radiant smile on her lovely face as she announced her house's name.
"And here come our players," she continued happily. "For Gryffindor: Kingston, Kingston, MacDonald, Thomas, Weasley, Ye and captain Harry Potter!
"For Hufflepuff," Bronwyn shouted, attempting to hide the partiality she had for her own house, "Abbott, Cauldwell, Corner, Delgety, Jones, McMillan and captain Toby Beck!" She smiled brilliantly after announcing her boyfriend's name.
In a flash, the balls were set loose and players bearing scarlet and yellow dashed about the skies during the mad scramble for the quaffle. Gryffindor chaser, Remadi Ye, snatched the most sought after object from the air and shot across the Pitch with incredible energy and speed. "Gryffindor in possession!" yelled Bronwyn, brown eyes following the action with avid interest.
A Question
for the Headmaster
Author: Severus Snape
Date: 06-30-03 16:56
Professor Snape climbed into the staff box shortly after the start of the game; a Gryffindor chaser, who the Potions master recognized as Miss Ye, was darting across the length of the Pitch with the quaffle tucked securely underneath her arm. Ordinarily, Snape didn't care to view the sport when his house, Slytherin, wasn't playing, but he felt the strange desire to leave the serenity of the dungeons today to be around people, the unavoidable noise they create and the cool, fresh air outside the castle walls.
He spotted Professor Dumbledore sitting among many of the other Hogwarts staff, but an empty seat remained next to the venerable headmaster. "Morning, Albus," Snape said, moving through the box towards the older wizard, "Is this seat free?"
"Certainly, Severus!" Dumbledore said, gesturing for Snape to take a seat.
Snape sat down and peered out over the Pitch, watching the Hufflepuff chasers hurry after the Gryffindors, who had begun to pass the quaffle to one another in rapid succession as they approached the goal hoops.
After a few moments of companionable silence, Snape spoke, "Headmaster, young Miss Black approached me after class the other day and queried whether or not she may have permission to keep her own broomstick at Hogwarts. Since she is now a member of the Slytherin Quidditch team, I think an exception should be made to the first year rule. Of course, I must ask you your thoughts on the matter." Snape tore his gaze away from the action on the field and turned to look at Dumbledore. "Does Miss Black have permission to have her own broomstick at Hogwarts, even though she is merely in her first year?"
The Newest
Secret
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 06-30-03 19:57
Bill hadn't planned on working Saturday. He wanted to spend the morning watching his brother Ron play keeper for Gryffindor at today's Quidditch match against the reigning Hogwarts champions, Hufflepuff House. A cup of coffee at Briar's Bakery in the afternoon and a pint of butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks in the evening seemed more desirable than a day at the office, too.
But somehow the endless pile of parchment on Bill's desk beckoned him to Gringotts instead of where he longed to be on this Saturday in mid-February. He had just completed the paperwork on the bank's newest clients (Mr. and Mrs. Applebaum of the East Lane) and set it aside when a correspondence on top of the remaining stack of papers caught his full attention. The address on the envelope was written in an all-too-familiar hand.
Could it be? Bill's heart rate increased sharply, thundering fiercely against his ribcage as he reached for the letter with shaky hands. Curiosity and excitement got the better of him, and Bill failed at resisting the urge to tear the letter open and pour over its contents. A part of him had wanted to savor the moment, to do it as if in slow-motion and caught in a dream.
Instead, Bill read the note once, twice, three times in rapid succession...overcome with emotion at seeing her familiar script, simply knowing the letter had been written very recently as opposed to six weeks ago when he had last seen her alive.
But what did it mean? It was a poem, and one Bill seemed to remember from somewhere. He knew little of Muggle literature, but he recalled without effort that Adriana simply loved all things Shakespeare. While a professor at Hogwarts, she had even produced a play of the bard's work and some of Bill's siblings had participated in the production.
"Sonnets," Bill mused softly, trying to pull the numbers of her favorites from his memory. She had many, and had on more than one occasion recited them to Bill as a sign of her love of British literature and a show of affection for her one true love.
Bill reread the last two lines the letter, the ones which cleverly explained how to get to the "meat" of the note. Clearly, speaking the correct number of the sonnet would reveal the hidden message.
What lengths did she have to go through to get this message to him? Why did it have to be written in code? He could only imagine what sort of situation she had been in these past six weeks, and it angered, saddened and worried him greatly.
Deep in his heart he knew the source of her troubles. If he could save her from her fate, he would, and he was damn well going to try.
Bill shook his head and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms. He couldn't seem to think clearly despite the steady stream of straight-forward questions formulating in his head. Finally, he recalled something of importance and rolled his chair back a bit so that he could bend over and open one of the bottom drawers of his desk where he kept a few of Adriana's possessions -- keepsakes he couldn't bear to part with when he had sent the remainder of her things to her vault in Gringotts, Diagon Alley.
One of the items was a small book of some of Shakespeare's most popular and smaller works, including many of the sonnets she loved so much. Bill flipped through the book, careful not to tear the pages as he impatiently thumbed through the sonnets looking for the correct one...
"There it is!" Bill exclaimed, and he turned to Adriana's letter and said, "Number 23."
Immediately, the words on the page faded into the parchment while a new text seemed to emerge from behind them. This note read:
My dearest love,
Please forgive me. I had to run.
I need to see you, now more than ever.
It's not safe for me to return to England.
Meet me in your old office, Cairo, March 1st
Around midnight. Helena's with me as well.
Never forget that I love you!
Adriana
Bill's exhaled deeply as relief washed over him. She truly was alive, although it was abundantly clear that something serious had happened, something serious enough to force her to flee the country and go into hiding.
Should he write back? Could he write back?
He'd be in Cairo on the first of March, whether he'd reply to the letter or not. He had to see her again. He had to know what befell her on New Year's Eve.
Could Bill alert Helena's parents and Charlie of the news? His parents and Briar, too? He didn't know if revealing the knowledge Adriana and Helena lived would cause greater harm than good. Perhaps it would be better to wait until after March 1st...
It felt like an incredible burden to keep this from everyone, especially Helena's parents who had no knowledge of their daughter's whereabouts or well-being. But it would have to remain a secret for two more weeks...
With Snow
Comes Trouble
Author: Annabella Mayberry
Date: 06-30-03 21:11
Anna woke up early the next day, eager to see the match between her own house, Gryffindor, against Hufflepuff. She quickly dressed and brushed her hair and made her way to the Great Hall where Gabe was to meet her for breakfast. As she saw him at one of the tables, he waved to her an unmistakable grin on his face.
Annabella tried fight the redness that was slowly creeping to her cheeks as she remembered the Valentines dance and the kiss they shared there but Gabe did not give her a moment to think about the awkwardness. He kissed her cheek and offered her a muffin, which she gratefully accepted and couldn't help but smile at Gabe.
After they had each eaten a bit, Anna turned to Gabriel, "Ready?" She was not sure if Gabe was going to the match because he really wanted to watch it as he had been strangely silent on the matter of Quidditch or because Anna wanted to go so badly. Either way, they quickly put on their coats, gloves and each wrapped their scarf's warmly around their necks.
Taking their first steps outside, Anna noticed that it had snowed the night before and most of the path before them was covered with snow. Anna loved summer but she also enjoyed snow being born in November. Anna talked excitedly about the upcoming match and didn't even notice as Gabe stopped and picked up some of the snow. The next thing Anna felt was cold snow running down her hair, "Gabe!!! You didn't!" she said turning around in mock anger. Quickly she grabbed a handful of the snow while Gabe did the same each trying to make a snowball faster than the other. Finally, Anna managed to throw one at Gabe, which hit him squarely in the chest while his hit her in the arm.
After a few minutes of their snowball fight they were both exhausted and very cold but couldn't stop laughing. "You...." Anna began to say but quickly changed her mind and kissed Gabe who was quite taken a back by her move. Anna seemed to have let her guard down and enjoyed seeing the grin on Gabe's face. They made their way to the Quidditch Pitch and tried to find Hermione, as Anna couldn't wait for the match to begin.
Saturday Morning
Delivery
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 06-30-03 22:02
Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap
The insistent knocking on the window by a large owl finally wakens me, though I am surprised I slept at all considering the pain in my arm. I open the window and the bird flies in and presents its leg to me. I remove the letter and give the owl a few knuts for his fee. Then I turn to the letter. It is sealed with the Durmstrang crest - Michael! I hold the letter to the sun and faint yellow ink shows two sets of initials: Aneas Eatos (a friend of Michael's from Beauxbattons) and Abelard Turin (Michael's brother). The initials indicate that the letter had not been tampered with. Michael would have sent his message first to Aneas, who lives somewhere in Crete, and Aneas to Abelard. The jumping points would make tracing the letter more difficult. As I expected, the letter is encrypted, an extra (and necessary) precaution. But it is not magic Michael used, but logic! I smile, and quickly read the code:
14-15-20 ||13-21-3-8 || 14-5-23-19 ||8-5-18-5. || 9-20 || 19-5- 5-13-18 || |11-1-18-1-11-15-6-6 || 1-14-4 || 1 ||8-1-14- 4-6-21-12 || 15-6 || Ò5-19-3-1-16-5-5" || 4-5-1-20-8|| 5-1-20-5-18-19 || 8-1-22-94-9-19-1-16-16-5-1-18-5-4 ||6-18-15-13 || 20-8-5-9-18 || 12-1-19-20- | 11-14-15-23-14 || 23-8-5-18-5-1-2-15-21-20-19.|| 20-8-5 || 19-20-1-6-6- || 1-18-5 || 14-15-20 || 9-14|| 20-6 || 3-15-21-18-19-5 ||. 13-15-19-20 || 6-5-5-15 || 20-8-5 || |20-18-1-9-20-15-18-19|| 20-15|| ||20-8-5 || 4-1-18-11||12-15-18-4 ||1-18-5 || 7-5-18-18-9-14-7|| 23-8-1-20 || 20-8-5-25|| 4-5-19-5-18-22-5 13-9-3-8-1-5-12
I frown at the part saying Karakoff has gone missing. No doubt the Durmstrang faculty is right: Voldemort's followers have traced him down first. I read it over again. Tonight I'll send Michael a reply message. But right now I need to go see Nevvyn about this arm and go to Hogwarts to watch the Quidditch game and talk to Dumbledore.
Not Paying
Attention
Author: Santhea Fennally
Date: 07-01-03 04:43
Santhea was sitting amongst her fellow Slytherins, but unlike most of them she didn't really follow the Quidditch match. Her thoughts were still on last night's dance, and especially its end. How dare he? Didn't Brady know who she was? He had almost forced himself on her. Well, he would have to pay for that. She'd find a way. The worst thing about the whole "kissing incident" was the fact that Malfoy had apparently seen. At least the smirks that seemed to be plastered to his face whenever he catched her eye led to this conclusion.
Luckily right now he was nowhere to be seen. Strange enough. Wasn't it important to him anymore to see Gryffindor lose to Hufflepuff? Not that this was likely to happen.
"Fennally," a voice drawled behind her. 'Yes, of course. Speak of the devil...' She turned and true enough there stood a smirking Malfoy. "May I?" he asked, pointing at the seat next to Santhea.
She merely nodded. 'Great, now he's going to talk about nothing but...'
"So, did you enjoy the dance yesterday?" She glared in response. "You're date had a very interesting way of bidding you 'Good Night', didn't he?" 'Oh, you should be glad, you're surrounded by all these students, Malfoy. Otherwise...' No, she was not going to show him how angry she was. She forced herself to smile sweetly at him and answered. "Well, it was mainly boring, no comparison to the balls we had at Beauxbatons. However there was one dance at least that I did enjoy."
A gleam appeared in Malfoy's eyes, and he inclined his head slightly, "Yes, I enjoyed our dance as well..." She cut him short by a sharp chuckle. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. I was speaking about Fynn. At least he knows what a gentleman is supposed to do. That is something I can't say about any Slytherin so far, including you..." Turning towards the players she added, "And now you will excuse me, I wish to watch the match."
Go Go Gryffindor
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 07-01-03 13:57
Hermione sat next to Ginny in the stands with the other Gryffindor fans and shouted her support for Ron, Harry and the others with great enthusiasm. It looked as if the game was off to a great start for her house; Remadi Ye was in possession of the quaffle and neared the goal hoops with amazing speed. Soon, the quaffle exchanged from hand to hand between the Gryffindor chasers. It was after Natalie MacDonald successfully passed the ball to Australia Kingston that Dean Thomas and Megan Jones of Hufflepuff House accidentally collided into one another. They both recovered, albeit a bit shakily, and meanwhile Australia tossed the ball back to Remadi, who resumed her course to the goal hoops.
During all of the excitement, Annabella arrived with Gabriel in tow. The two looked rosy-cheeked and wore big smiles, and Hermione couldn't help but think that Gabriel had never seemed happier. She welcomed them both and made room for the pair on their row, giving Gabe a friendly nudge in the side when he fell into place beside her.
Can't They
Both Lose?
Author: Draco Malfoy
Date: 07-01-03 15:02
Draco smirked at Fennally's comments, but made no move to leave her in peace. "Seems to me," he drawled, casually observing as one of her perfectly arched eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline, "that only the soft sorts go for those boring, perfect gentlemen. Had never thought you to be one of them. Really thought you had a backbone. My mistake."
He turned to leave, halting as a few younger Slytherins bolted past him to take the remaining seats on that row. How he wished he could wear the medallion; he'd love to read Santhea's thoughts right about now. He had stashed the necklace in his pocket that morning, having strongly desired to use it at some point but knowing full well that using it around large crowds had its consequences.
Instead, he continued on his way and spotted his enormous sidekicks up a few rows where they had reserved a seat for him. He climbed up the steps and maneuvered himself into the row, sliding into the empty seat between them where he exclaimed, "Can't they both lose?"
Replying
to Severus
Author: Albus Dumbledore
Date: 07-01-03 19:44
I scratch my chin for a moment, while I mull over this matter of "broomsticks". "Well, Severus. It seems we have set a precedent with Mr. Potter. Since we are now allowing First-Years on the Quidditch Teams, I see no reason why they should not have their own broom."
The match draws my attention for a few moments. The Gryffindor squad is putting on an amazing display of passing the quaffle. Returning to Severus' question, I continue, "However, I want you, Madam Hooch, and Professor Flitwick to go over it with a "fine-toothed comb"! I want to be certain it has not been tampered with or modified in any way. I also want to be assured there are no jinxes, hexes, charms or spells applied to this broom, which are not part of the standard equipment package."
Severus grudgingly accepts my conditions, although I can see from his expression that he is already certain they will find nothing out of line. With the matter seemingly settled, we both turn to watch the match.
Arrival
Author: Isannah Kale
Date: 07-01-03 20:30
After the somewhat tiring walk from Hogsmeade, Isannah found herself in familiar territory. Still hanging onto the blue quilt, she now had it wrapped around her shoulders as she wandered the corridors of Hogwarts Castle, spending far more time staring at the paintings and doors than watching where she was going. She imagined that she looked more like a homeless witch than a professor.
Finally making her way to Dumbledore's office, she wondered if she was supposed to knock. However, she didn't have to decide, as suddenly a spritely house elf popped up beside her. "Hello," Isannah said, smiling down at her.
"I'm... Professor Kale." Her smile widened at that. A nice ring to it. "I'm supposed to meet with Professor Dumbledore?"
"He's at the quidditch game!" the elf squeaked. "If you'd like to wait, I can fetch you some tea. Or anything else you might like!"
"Oh, thank you kindly..." Isannah said. "Actually... there's a quidditch game, you say? I'd rather be interested in seeing that, myself. It's been years since I've seen a game of quidditch. And the professor is there? Well, I'll simply meet him there, then." She realized that she was talking more to herself than to the elf. "It was nice meeting you!" she added as she took off back down the corridor, trying to remember where the quidditch pitch was in relation to the castle.
After wandering the grounds for a few minutes, she found that it was not hard to spot, as that was where all the screaming was coming from. Scanning the crowd, her eyes focused on the teacher's box, where Dumbledore was easily recognizable. He was talking to... Snape? He was still here?
Well, she doubted that he would remember her, even if she had been a good potions student. There wasn't really anything particularly memorable about her, particularly when she was younger. And she hadn't made a fool of herself in that class as she'd tended to do in charms and transfiguration.
As soon as she saw their conversation end, she made her way into the teacher's box and stood beside the headmaster. Tapping him politely on the shoulder, she waited for him to turn around.
When she saw the gleam of recognition in his eyes, she smiled and said, "Hello, Professor... how nice to see you again. I hope you don't mind, your house elf told me you would be here, so I thought I would come watch the game as well."
Curse Those
Death Eaters!
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 07-01-03 21:31
Further examination of Michael's letter revealed that he had put an anti-decryption charm on the parchment (meaning anyone intercepting the message had to decode it the hard way). I pick up my wand (I had bought a new one last night, before Ollivander's closed) thinking to summon a quill from my desk.
"AHHH!" The pain shoots up my arm, catching me off guard, when I start speaking the charm. Blinkey, who had been cleaning in the attack, hears my yelp and comes rushing down.
"Dierna hurt!"
"No Blinkey. It's nothing." I try to hide the bandaged arm, but Blinkey sees it first, though.
"Not nothing! Dierna hurt! Need help!"
"I'm fine. Really, Blinkey."
"No, Dienra not fine! Master Michael say to look after Dierna ni Ciaran. Master say not to let Dierna out-stubborn Blinkey!"
I laugh at this. "Oh did he? And I thought I was looking after you!"
"Blinkey look after Dierna ni Ciaran!" she repeated. "Dierna not change subject!"
We go on like this for a while and I finally agree to see Nevvyn, feeling not a little sheepish that I was "out-stubborned" by a house elf.
I wrap my winter cloak around me and head over to the potion shoppe. In there I show the "war wound" to Nevvyn and explain, "A kind of incineration hex. It caught me from behind when I was deflecting another spell coming at me from the front. This is my wand arm too, so whenever I try to use even a simple spell it sends pain up my arm. Can you help? And please don't tell me I need to go to Saint Mungo's."
Boiling with
Anger
Author: Santhea Fennally
Date: 07-01-03 22:06
'I swear that one day I'll make sure that stupid smirk is erased from your face forever, Malfoy.' Santhea was almost shaking with red-hot anger, and she was hoping that Malfoy had had his fun, for she would make sure that this was not going to happen again.
But where to catch him? Of course, his stupid Malfoy-pride. Hadn't his father always told her that this pride would one fine day be the downfall of the whole family? Of course he had been speaking about Lucius back then... But as they said, like father, like son...
She turned around, looking up and saw Draco smirk down at her. 'I'm weak, am I? Maybe I should show you how strong I really am? Make no mistake Malfoy, this will be ugly, for you...' With the sweetest of smiles she nodded towards the blond Slytherin and turned again to watch the match. Her time at Hogwarts certainly would be interesting.
