Categories > Books > Harry Potter > An American Wizard in Hogwarts
Football, Flying, and Fluffy
3 reviewsClasses begin; Harry and Matt do their best to avoid homesickness.
1Ambiance
Disclaimer: If you honestly think that anyone would pay for this drivel, you're a fool, but thanks anyway for the complement. Oh and, nice men, white suits, etc.
A/N: I just want to remind you that this is all freehand. No outline, and unfortunately, not even a copy of the first three books to help with the facts. Don't expect whatever quality there is to last. There is a scene of American Football in this chapter. I tried to keep it simple, but the score is probably gonna trip some people up. The only scoring possible in schoolyard rules is touchdowns, worth 7 points, with the option to "go for two," making them worth a total of 8 points, if successful; if unsuccessful the touchdown is only worth 6. Wikipedia has an excellent summary on scoring for professional AF. Please check that before asking me questions.
Chapter 6: Football, Flying, and Fluffy
Harry rather enjoyed his first day and a half of lessons, except for DADA; he immediately developed a splitting headache during that class. He suspected it was due to the all the garlic. But he still was dreading Potions. He'd heard many horror stories about Professor Snape from his dad and Sirius, along with the many pranks they pulled on him, the result being that whenever Harry looked at him, he didn't know whether to laugh or cringe. He knew that Professor Snape was friends with his mother, but he'd never met him.
So it was with great trepidation that, after lunch on Tuesday, he made his way down to the dungeons. Harry sat at a table with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, right behind Matt and Luna, who were seated with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. He appeared, Harry noted, to be rather uncomfortable as the three girls happily chatted away.
Suddenly there was a loud double bang as the door slammed open against the wall than slammed shut with equal force. Professor Snape strode to the front of the suddenly silent room, and began to take roll when he got there. When he read Harry's name he looked up at him and commented, "Let's hope for the sake of all those in this room that you inherited more than just her eyes." He then continued on through the list and began the lesson.
After an eventful lesson, featuring no less than three cauldron explosions, Harry and his friends ascended the steps out of the dungeons. Matt, who had been responsible for two of the explosions--one due to his ham-fisted ministrations, the other caused by dropping an entire bottle of adder's venom into his second attempt when Neville's cauldron exploded right behind him--relaxed noticeably as the reached the entrance hall. Harry just hoped Snape wasn't too hard on his oldest friend in detention tonight.
When Matt returned from detention that night, he was rather pale and even less talkative than usual--quite an accomplishment, Hermione later remarked. For the rest of the night, every time someone mentioned his detention, he would collapse into a fit of dry heaves and shoot a glare that could peel paint over towards Neville, who, after three such glares, ran off to the dormitory as fast as he could--remembering the story of what happened to Malfoy on the train, no doubt. It was supper the next night before Harry was ably to convince Matt to go to the Great Hall and eat something.
Finally the first week ended. Over the course of the week, all of Gryffindor, and many students not in Gryffindor had learned just how odd Luna really was. For one, she was constantly talking about creatures that Harry was fairly certain weren't real. For another, whenever someone she was talking to experienced a brain-fart, she would run around the room chasing and swatting at what he could only assume was some imaginary insect. Whenever he or any of his friends asked her about this behavior, she would just say that it didn't matter any more as she had already taken care of it. Harry, along with most of Gryffindor, felt that she was good fun to be around, particularly once you learned to sort the wisdom from the bullshit. The few exceptions were people like the red-haired prefect, who turned out to be one of Ron's older brothers. She became a mascot, of sorts, as she was one of the few people unafraid to be herself and speak her mind, regardless of what was on it.Saturday morning found the Harry out on the grounds, accompanied by his two best friends, along with nineteen other people. Wednesday they had garnered enough attention for a full 11 on 11 game of American Football. They then spent Thursday and Friday after supper explaining as many of the rules to the game as they though pertinent. Most of the interested parties were halfbloods and non-bigoted purebloods, though there were a few muggleborns that were curious as to what the Americans saw in the game. They picked teams, and played shirts vs. skins, with Matt being captain of shirts, Harry captain of the skins team. They went to a score of 30, and the game was over in under a half-hour. Final score: 35-6, Matt's team over Harry's. The consensus was that they'd need some more upper years before they could get a fair game. As such, no one involved in the game was quite ready to make a judgment/reassessment on the sport.
The next week passed in much the same way, though Matt didn't blow up any more potions. He did, however, replicate the formula for silly putty, though no one could figure out how. Fortunately, he was able to save it before Snape vanished it, and was able to successfully brew the potion on his second try.On Friday the first years had flying lessons. Madame Hooch, the flying instructor/Quidditch Official, opened the lesson by telling everyone,"Flying is really quite simple. The trick is to throw yourself at the ground and miss," Harry, Hermione and Matt smirked at this. "Now Iwould like everyone to give this a try at the whistle," and with that she blew the whistle. Half of the muggleborns and a few of the more nervous halfbloods and purebloods threw themselves at the ground. None of them missed."I'm impressed and disappointed. Impressed with the muggleborns that didn't take a swan dive. Disappointed with the halfbloods and purebloods that did."
"Can any of the muggleborns tell me why that method doesn't work? How about you, Miss Granger?"
"That method doesn't work because it is the fabrication of the deranged mind of one Douglas Noel Adams, from the book Life, The Universe, and Everything. While he is an excellent humorist and science fiction author, he is not an authority on magic," Hermione intoned.
"Excellent. Five points to Gryffindor for that answer," praised Madame Hooch. "Also, every muggleborn who didn't throw themselves at the ground earns their house one point, and every pureblood and halfblood who did throw themselves at the ground loses their house a point."
All went fairly well at first (including Malfoy being told he'd been doing it wrong for years), until Neville kicked off early, causing him to fly over ahundred feet before falling off and landing with a disturbing crunch. After Madame Hooch left, taking Neville to the Hospital Wing, Malfoy found Neville's Remembrall on the ground. A confrontation soon followed, resulting in Harry being led back into the castle by Professor McGonagall.
Upon her return, Madame Hooch questioned the assembled first years about Harry's absence. Predictably, Malfoy and his cronies tried to make it seem as if Harry was the only one who left the ground. This might have worked, if they weren't outnumbered by those who thought he was just a spoiled brat. Malfoy received detention with Filch for that night, and the lesson resumed.
For Matt, it was an enjoyable lesson. Finally, something he excelled at in this school. Well, he was top in his year in History of Magic, but he didn't count that. Everything else he was mediocre at when it came to practical. But this, it was eerily easy. He wasn't the best, but he was certainly near the top. Too bad this wasn't for a grade. He grinned as he looked down and saw his cousin struggling. He flew down to her and managed to give her a few pointers. While she still wasn't particularly great, she was at least now somewhat competent.
That evening Harry informed his closest friends that after McGonagall had taken him into the castle, she had introduced him to Oliver Wood, captain of Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was the new Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They were happy for him and readily agreed to keep his secret.
Saturday found Harry once again out on the grounds with a larger group of people ready to play a game of American Football. With some older students playing on the lines, the game was more even, this time taking almost an hour to reach a score of 33-28, though again in favor of Matt's team. Madame Hooch, who was an avid fan of sports in general, watched the game this time. After the game was over she was seen walking towards the castle with a peculiar gleam in her eye.
Harry spent much of his free time until his first Quidditch practice working on schoolwork. Just before practice, Hedwig, along with his parents' three owls, all named Bruce (Harry had never heard the story be hind this.) carefully flew in through an open window, a long package carried between them. They dropped the package and note in front of him and flew out the window. Harry decided to read the note, which was from his father, before opening the package.
Harry,
When we got your letter your mom and I were ecstatic. Okay I was ecstatic, your mom was, and as you read this probably still is, worried. We were going to wait until Christmas to give you this, but I think you need this a bit sooner than that. So we decided to send Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, and New Bruce with your new Peregrine 42 broomstick. Hope you like it.
Love,
Dad
Harry excitedly unwrapped the package, revealing a sleek broomstick, with ahighly detailed falcon's head carved into each side of the handle along with the number 42.
Ron, whom Harry had become good friends with lately, finished reading the abandoned note and asked, "Why are all your family's owls named Bruce?"
Harry shrugged. "First of all, they aren't all named Bruce, the one my dad called New Bruce is my owl, which I named Hedwig. He refuses to call her that for some reason. Second, I've never actually asked why; I just figured hanging around with Sirius has him well on his way to the loony bin. I swear Ionce heard him outside yelling, "I love you," at my mom's window in aretard voice, smashing rocks or something against his head every time he said it. And lastly, how is that the only thing in that note that gets a reaction out of you?"
"Well, sure you've got a broom, but it can't be very good. I've never heard of the Peregrine series. What makes it so special?" Ron replied.
"The Peregrine series is the gold standard in America. It puts the Nimbus to shame. The reason you've never heard of it is that it just isn't sold outside of America. Don't know why, though," replied Harry, shrugging."Supposedly the Nimbus is you Brits' answer to it, but that series has always lagged behind slightly."
Luckily, it tuned out Harry was the only one who recognized the series, though everyone was impressed at the capabilities of his broom. The most impressive feature was its dive rate. While it's handling, and speeds in climbing and in level flight were unbelievable, the dive speed was a trademark of the Peregrine series. The dive speed of the Peregrine 42 was very close to that of its namesake.
Two hours later, Harry, grinning ear to ear, walked through the portrait hole, only to find Matt, also grinning like an idiot, at least for him, anyway. It was creepy sometimes how he could be so happy yet look so morose, so the smile on his face meant something really good must have happened to him. Unfortunately, he had sworn not to talk about whatever made him so happy.
Malfoy seemed to be surprised to see Harry at supper that night. "I'd have thought you'd be gone by now. What's the matter, can your parents not get aportkey out of that shithole you call a country?" He drawled, managing to sneer and smirk at the same time.
Harry put a hand on Matt's shoulder to signify that he would handle it himself. "First of all, I suggest you learn to pick your words more carefully around my friend here. Next time I won't stop him. In fact, I'm not entirely sure why I'm stopping him now."
He stood up and got in Malfoy's face. "Now listen here, asshole. Don't you ever insult America in the presence of either Matt or myself. Given Magical Britain's penchant for pureblood bigotry, I find that shithole comment rather rich, coming from you."
Malfoy, angrier than ever, then proceeded to challenge Harry to a wizards duel. Harry accepted, but as soon as Malfoy was out of sight, turned to his friends and said, "I'm not going," at this point Ron looked like he was about to object. "Gotta be a trick. I mean his name means 'bad faith.' If that doesn't scream sneak to you, you need to get your head examined." Ron settled back down.
Harry paused, then grinned, "Perhaps the whole lot of them should move to Arkansas to be with their own kind."
Ron, puzzled, asked, "What's Arkansas? Is it some sort of colony of purebloods?"
Hermione caught on at this point. "Close, but not quite. It's a state in the U.S. with a reputation--deserved or not, I don't know--for inbreeding." At this point it became obvious that everyone in earshot had been listening in, because there was about five seconds of dead silence before everyone within aten-foot radius started chuckling.
They were still enthusiastically bashing Malfoy and the rest of the 'blood purists' when they left the Great Hall. They were so caught up in that discussion when Harry noticed Ms. Norris running off to get Filch. He immediately took stock of his surroundings.
"Uh, guys?" he asked nervously.
"What's wrong?" asked Hermione, as she, Matt, and Ron fixed Harry with worried, questioning stares.
"You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?" asked Harry. He had a strong hunch, but he wanted to make sure before he said anything.
Hermione looked around. "I don't know, why?"
"Filch's cat just took off, looking like she was gonna tattle," answered Harry.
"There can be only one reason for that. We're out of bounds. And there is only one out of bounds area we could have reached so quickly," Harry paused when he heard Filch's voice, though he couldn't make out the words."We gotta get out of here."
"No time," Matt said quickly. "We gotta hide."
They ran to the nearest door. When it turned out to be locked, Hermione quickly stepped forward and performed an unlocking charm. They piled in, and waited for Filch to move on. About the time Filch's voice disappeared, Harry heard Matt whisper, in what would have been a very soothing voice were it not cracking with fear, "Niiiice doggie." The other three snapped around, and upon noticing a giant three headed dog, hesitated for less than a second before rushing out of the room, and running all the way to the Fat Lady's corridor.
"What are they thinking, keeping a dog like that in a school?" exclaimed Ron. "If any dog needs exercise, it's that one!"
"I dunno. Hey Matt, remember last year when my dad locked Sirius in his animagus form for the entire two month camping trip?" Harry paused, laughing. "And then refused to let him out of the 20 foot travel trailer we had rented?" Matt joined in on the laughter.
Ron looked puzzled at this, figuring there must be some joke he was missing. Noticing this Harry explained, "Sirius's animagus form is a Grim. Or at least that's what he says it's supposed to be," Ron gave a weak chuckle.
Hermione had not laughed. In fact, she looked positively livid. "I wouldn't be so glib about this if I were you. Obviously the more important question is what was it guarding?" Hermione whispered angrily, as they entered through the portrait hole.
Matt looked at his cousin. "At least I wasn't imagining things when Ithought I saw the trapdoor," He paused, looking pensive. "Look, it's probably best if we don't worry about it. Let's just forget everything about that little misadventure, except that there is good reason to avoid that corridor. Got it?"
Hermione still looked livid...to the untrained eye. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed before you three get us all killed," she walked a few steps towards the girls staircase, before turning around and adding,"or worse, expelled." Harry struggled to keep a straight face after that, knowing that both she and Matt were doing the same. He almost made it, until he looked over at Ron, who only needed gills and he'd be able to do acredible largemouth bass. He lost it at that point.
Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder, "Dude, she really had you! Shoulda seen the look on your face! Priceless! If only I had a camera," Harry wheezed between belly laughs.
A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just couldn't wring the ideas out of my head when I had free time, and that was hard to come by. I appreciate your patience, and want to warn you that further updates will be VERY erratic. I don't have an outline, and I don't think I could stick to one if I had one. The only documents I have on this story besides the chapters themselves are a set of character notes and a document containing ideas for further chapters.You may have noticed some references to classic British Humor. For those who didn't, there were four. Two references to HHGttG (one credited in story) and two from Monty Python.
There was also a reference to Monty Python in chapter 4. I will tell one of my ideas for a future chapter with whoever spots chapter 4's Python reference. The same goes to whoever spots the non-credited Hitchhiker's Guide reference. You can only get one, however.
And as I have a feeling I will get a lot of these questions: I changed Charles's name because I never really liked it. It was a random name that Idecided upon when I decided that I didn't like the alliteration from my first choice, Richard, and the temptation to make at least one lame Rickroll joke.
A/N: I just want to remind you that this is all freehand. No outline, and unfortunately, not even a copy of the first three books to help with the facts. Don't expect whatever quality there is to last. There is a scene of American Football in this chapter. I tried to keep it simple, but the score is probably gonna trip some people up. The only scoring possible in schoolyard rules is touchdowns, worth 7 points, with the option to "go for two," making them worth a total of 8 points, if successful; if unsuccessful the touchdown is only worth 6. Wikipedia has an excellent summary on scoring for professional AF. Please check that before asking me questions.
Chapter 6: Football, Flying, and Fluffy
Harry rather enjoyed his first day and a half of lessons, except for DADA; he immediately developed a splitting headache during that class. He suspected it was due to the all the garlic. But he still was dreading Potions. He'd heard many horror stories about Professor Snape from his dad and Sirius, along with the many pranks they pulled on him, the result being that whenever Harry looked at him, he didn't know whether to laugh or cringe. He knew that Professor Snape was friends with his mother, but he'd never met him.
So it was with great trepidation that, after lunch on Tuesday, he made his way down to the dungeons. Harry sat at a table with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, right behind Matt and Luna, who were seated with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. He appeared, Harry noted, to be rather uncomfortable as the three girls happily chatted away.
Suddenly there was a loud double bang as the door slammed open against the wall than slammed shut with equal force. Professor Snape strode to the front of the suddenly silent room, and began to take roll when he got there. When he read Harry's name he looked up at him and commented, "Let's hope for the sake of all those in this room that you inherited more than just her eyes." He then continued on through the list and began the lesson.
After an eventful lesson, featuring no less than three cauldron explosions, Harry and his friends ascended the steps out of the dungeons. Matt, who had been responsible for two of the explosions--one due to his ham-fisted ministrations, the other caused by dropping an entire bottle of adder's venom into his second attempt when Neville's cauldron exploded right behind him--relaxed noticeably as the reached the entrance hall. Harry just hoped Snape wasn't too hard on his oldest friend in detention tonight.
When Matt returned from detention that night, he was rather pale and even less talkative than usual--quite an accomplishment, Hermione later remarked. For the rest of the night, every time someone mentioned his detention, he would collapse into a fit of dry heaves and shoot a glare that could peel paint over towards Neville, who, after three such glares, ran off to the dormitory as fast as he could--remembering the story of what happened to Malfoy on the train, no doubt. It was supper the next night before Harry was ably to convince Matt to go to the Great Hall and eat something.
Finally the first week ended. Over the course of the week, all of Gryffindor, and many students not in Gryffindor had learned just how odd Luna really was. For one, she was constantly talking about creatures that Harry was fairly certain weren't real. For another, whenever someone she was talking to experienced a brain-fart, she would run around the room chasing and swatting at what he could only assume was some imaginary insect. Whenever he or any of his friends asked her about this behavior, she would just say that it didn't matter any more as she had already taken care of it. Harry, along with most of Gryffindor, felt that she was good fun to be around, particularly once you learned to sort the wisdom from the bullshit. The few exceptions were people like the red-haired prefect, who turned out to be one of Ron's older brothers. She became a mascot, of sorts, as she was one of the few people unafraid to be herself and speak her mind, regardless of what was on it.Saturday morning found the Harry out on the grounds, accompanied by his two best friends, along with nineteen other people. Wednesday they had garnered enough attention for a full 11 on 11 game of American Football. They then spent Thursday and Friday after supper explaining as many of the rules to the game as they though pertinent. Most of the interested parties were halfbloods and non-bigoted purebloods, though there were a few muggleborns that were curious as to what the Americans saw in the game. They picked teams, and played shirts vs. skins, with Matt being captain of shirts, Harry captain of the skins team. They went to a score of 30, and the game was over in under a half-hour. Final score: 35-6, Matt's team over Harry's. The consensus was that they'd need some more upper years before they could get a fair game. As such, no one involved in the game was quite ready to make a judgment/reassessment on the sport.
The next week passed in much the same way, though Matt didn't blow up any more potions. He did, however, replicate the formula for silly putty, though no one could figure out how. Fortunately, he was able to save it before Snape vanished it, and was able to successfully brew the potion on his second try.On Friday the first years had flying lessons. Madame Hooch, the flying instructor/Quidditch Official, opened the lesson by telling everyone,"Flying is really quite simple. The trick is to throw yourself at the ground and miss," Harry, Hermione and Matt smirked at this. "Now Iwould like everyone to give this a try at the whistle," and with that she blew the whistle. Half of the muggleborns and a few of the more nervous halfbloods and purebloods threw themselves at the ground. None of them missed."I'm impressed and disappointed. Impressed with the muggleborns that didn't take a swan dive. Disappointed with the halfbloods and purebloods that did."
"Can any of the muggleborns tell me why that method doesn't work? How about you, Miss Granger?"
"That method doesn't work because it is the fabrication of the deranged mind of one Douglas Noel Adams, from the book Life, The Universe, and Everything. While he is an excellent humorist and science fiction author, he is not an authority on magic," Hermione intoned.
"Excellent. Five points to Gryffindor for that answer," praised Madame Hooch. "Also, every muggleborn who didn't throw themselves at the ground earns their house one point, and every pureblood and halfblood who did throw themselves at the ground loses their house a point."
All went fairly well at first (including Malfoy being told he'd been doing it wrong for years), until Neville kicked off early, causing him to fly over ahundred feet before falling off and landing with a disturbing crunch. After Madame Hooch left, taking Neville to the Hospital Wing, Malfoy found Neville's Remembrall on the ground. A confrontation soon followed, resulting in Harry being led back into the castle by Professor McGonagall.
Upon her return, Madame Hooch questioned the assembled first years about Harry's absence. Predictably, Malfoy and his cronies tried to make it seem as if Harry was the only one who left the ground. This might have worked, if they weren't outnumbered by those who thought he was just a spoiled brat. Malfoy received detention with Filch for that night, and the lesson resumed.
For Matt, it was an enjoyable lesson. Finally, something he excelled at in this school. Well, he was top in his year in History of Magic, but he didn't count that. Everything else he was mediocre at when it came to practical. But this, it was eerily easy. He wasn't the best, but he was certainly near the top. Too bad this wasn't for a grade. He grinned as he looked down and saw his cousin struggling. He flew down to her and managed to give her a few pointers. While she still wasn't particularly great, she was at least now somewhat competent.
That evening Harry informed his closest friends that after McGonagall had taken him into the castle, she had introduced him to Oliver Wood, captain of Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was the new Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They were happy for him and readily agreed to keep his secret.
Saturday found Harry once again out on the grounds with a larger group of people ready to play a game of American Football. With some older students playing on the lines, the game was more even, this time taking almost an hour to reach a score of 33-28, though again in favor of Matt's team. Madame Hooch, who was an avid fan of sports in general, watched the game this time. After the game was over she was seen walking towards the castle with a peculiar gleam in her eye.
Harry spent much of his free time until his first Quidditch practice working on schoolwork. Just before practice, Hedwig, along with his parents' three owls, all named Bruce (Harry had never heard the story be hind this.) carefully flew in through an open window, a long package carried between them. They dropped the package and note in front of him and flew out the window. Harry decided to read the note, which was from his father, before opening the package.
Harry,
When we got your letter your mom and I were ecstatic. Okay I was ecstatic, your mom was, and as you read this probably still is, worried. We were going to wait until Christmas to give you this, but I think you need this a bit sooner than that. So we decided to send Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, and New Bruce with your new Peregrine 42 broomstick. Hope you like it.
Love,
Dad
Harry excitedly unwrapped the package, revealing a sleek broomstick, with ahighly detailed falcon's head carved into each side of the handle along with the number 42.
Ron, whom Harry had become good friends with lately, finished reading the abandoned note and asked, "Why are all your family's owls named Bruce?"
Harry shrugged. "First of all, they aren't all named Bruce, the one my dad called New Bruce is my owl, which I named Hedwig. He refuses to call her that for some reason. Second, I've never actually asked why; I just figured hanging around with Sirius has him well on his way to the loony bin. I swear Ionce heard him outside yelling, "I love you," at my mom's window in aretard voice, smashing rocks or something against his head every time he said it. And lastly, how is that the only thing in that note that gets a reaction out of you?"
"Well, sure you've got a broom, but it can't be very good. I've never heard of the Peregrine series. What makes it so special?" Ron replied.
"The Peregrine series is the gold standard in America. It puts the Nimbus to shame. The reason you've never heard of it is that it just isn't sold outside of America. Don't know why, though," replied Harry, shrugging."Supposedly the Nimbus is you Brits' answer to it, but that series has always lagged behind slightly."
Luckily, it tuned out Harry was the only one who recognized the series, though everyone was impressed at the capabilities of his broom. The most impressive feature was its dive rate. While it's handling, and speeds in climbing and in level flight were unbelievable, the dive speed was a trademark of the Peregrine series. The dive speed of the Peregrine 42 was very close to that of its namesake.
Two hours later, Harry, grinning ear to ear, walked through the portrait hole, only to find Matt, also grinning like an idiot, at least for him, anyway. It was creepy sometimes how he could be so happy yet look so morose, so the smile on his face meant something really good must have happened to him. Unfortunately, he had sworn not to talk about whatever made him so happy.
Malfoy seemed to be surprised to see Harry at supper that night. "I'd have thought you'd be gone by now. What's the matter, can your parents not get aportkey out of that shithole you call a country?" He drawled, managing to sneer and smirk at the same time.
Harry put a hand on Matt's shoulder to signify that he would handle it himself. "First of all, I suggest you learn to pick your words more carefully around my friend here. Next time I won't stop him. In fact, I'm not entirely sure why I'm stopping him now."
He stood up and got in Malfoy's face. "Now listen here, asshole. Don't you ever insult America in the presence of either Matt or myself. Given Magical Britain's penchant for pureblood bigotry, I find that shithole comment rather rich, coming from you."
Malfoy, angrier than ever, then proceeded to challenge Harry to a wizards duel. Harry accepted, but as soon as Malfoy was out of sight, turned to his friends and said, "I'm not going," at this point Ron looked like he was about to object. "Gotta be a trick. I mean his name means 'bad faith.' If that doesn't scream sneak to you, you need to get your head examined." Ron settled back down.
Harry paused, then grinned, "Perhaps the whole lot of them should move to Arkansas to be with their own kind."
Ron, puzzled, asked, "What's Arkansas? Is it some sort of colony of purebloods?"
Hermione caught on at this point. "Close, but not quite. It's a state in the U.S. with a reputation--deserved or not, I don't know--for inbreeding." At this point it became obvious that everyone in earshot had been listening in, because there was about five seconds of dead silence before everyone within aten-foot radius started chuckling.
They were still enthusiastically bashing Malfoy and the rest of the 'blood purists' when they left the Great Hall. They were so caught up in that discussion when Harry noticed Ms. Norris running off to get Filch. He immediately took stock of his surroundings.
"Uh, guys?" he asked nervously.
"What's wrong?" asked Hermione, as she, Matt, and Ron fixed Harry with worried, questioning stares.
"You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?" asked Harry. He had a strong hunch, but he wanted to make sure before he said anything.
Hermione looked around. "I don't know, why?"
"Filch's cat just took off, looking like she was gonna tattle," answered Harry.
"There can be only one reason for that. We're out of bounds. And there is only one out of bounds area we could have reached so quickly," Harry paused when he heard Filch's voice, though he couldn't make out the words."We gotta get out of here."
"No time," Matt said quickly. "We gotta hide."
They ran to the nearest door. When it turned out to be locked, Hermione quickly stepped forward and performed an unlocking charm. They piled in, and waited for Filch to move on. About the time Filch's voice disappeared, Harry heard Matt whisper, in what would have been a very soothing voice were it not cracking with fear, "Niiiice doggie." The other three snapped around, and upon noticing a giant three headed dog, hesitated for less than a second before rushing out of the room, and running all the way to the Fat Lady's corridor.
"What are they thinking, keeping a dog like that in a school?" exclaimed Ron. "If any dog needs exercise, it's that one!"
"I dunno. Hey Matt, remember last year when my dad locked Sirius in his animagus form for the entire two month camping trip?" Harry paused, laughing. "And then refused to let him out of the 20 foot travel trailer we had rented?" Matt joined in on the laughter.
Ron looked puzzled at this, figuring there must be some joke he was missing. Noticing this Harry explained, "Sirius's animagus form is a Grim. Or at least that's what he says it's supposed to be," Ron gave a weak chuckle.
Hermione had not laughed. In fact, she looked positively livid. "I wouldn't be so glib about this if I were you. Obviously the more important question is what was it guarding?" Hermione whispered angrily, as they entered through the portrait hole.
Matt looked at his cousin. "At least I wasn't imagining things when Ithought I saw the trapdoor," He paused, looking pensive. "Look, it's probably best if we don't worry about it. Let's just forget everything about that little misadventure, except that there is good reason to avoid that corridor. Got it?"
Hermione still looked livid...to the untrained eye. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed before you three get us all killed," she walked a few steps towards the girls staircase, before turning around and adding,"or worse, expelled." Harry struggled to keep a straight face after that, knowing that both she and Matt were doing the same. He almost made it, until he looked over at Ron, who only needed gills and he'd be able to do acredible largemouth bass. He lost it at that point.
Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder, "Dude, she really had you! Shoulda seen the look on your face! Priceless! If only I had a camera," Harry wheezed between belly laughs.
A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just couldn't wring the ideas out of my head when I had free time, and that was hard to come by. I appreciate your patience, and want to warn you that further updates will be VERY erratic. I don't have an outline, and I don't think I could stick to one if I had one. The only documents I have on this story besides the chapters themselves are a set of character notes and a document containing ideas for further chapters.You may have noticed some references to classic British Humor. For those who didn't, there were four. Two references to HHGttG (one credited in story) and two from Monty Python.
There was also a reference to Monty Python in chapter 4. I will tell one of my ideas for a future chapter with whoever spots chapter 4's Python reference. The same goes to whoever spots the non-credited Hitchhiker's Guide reference. You can only get one, however.
And as I have a feeling I will get a lot of these questions: I changed Charles's name because I never really liked it. It was a random name that Idecided upon when I decided that I didn't like the alliteration from my first choice, Richard, and the temptation to make at least one lame Rickroll joke.
Sign up to rate and review this story