HOME | DD

Description
Click here for Part I

My ears feel oddly warm.

This is the first thought that springs to mind when I wake. The musings that usually cross my mind first thing in the morning are generally rather dull. This is a new one.

I yawn and reach for my wand, intending to cool my ears down with some sort of ice-cubes-popping-out-of-the-the-wand charm. I blindly pat the bedside table to feel for the handle but as I grab it, it slips right out of my hand and falls on the floor. I sigh. I get the feeling today is going to be a bad day.

I swing my legs out of bed and go to pick it back up. But as soon as I transfer my weight to the floor, something under my foot causes me to go flying across the room – one foot grounded and the other mid-air – and bang face-first into the wall. Unfortunately, my nose then slides down the wall and I end up spread-eagled with an up-close view of the Slytherin dormitory floor.

Even when I gingerly try to arrange myself into a slightly less ridiculous position (on hands and knees), my arm gives way and I once again find myself gliding across the room, this time face-down, before finally colliding with a bed post.

But the impact between the bedpost and the side of my head is cushioned by something soft. Something pink. Something fluffy. As I slowly begin to understand the reason for my overly warm ears, I also notice that the Slytherin door has at some point during ym impromptu acrobatics been forced open, and now a sea of faces look down at me with glee. But how in Merlin’s name did they manage to hear the noise from the other side of school? And how did they force the door open? This whole situation is completely implausible!

Even through the earmuffs I can hear much laughing and jeering. I whip the surprisingly comfortable earmuffs off my head to interject a witty comeback. However, the movement propels me backwards into the flailing arms of Lucius Malfoy, who the moment before had conveniently decided to drag his carcass out of bed to try and threaten the crowd with his precious prefect badge, and instead been subjected to the same fate as me. We lie, helpless on the floor, with Malfoy clutching me to him as though I am some sort of giant, very uncuddly teddybear.

‘Snape,’ he hisses in my ear. ‘What. The. Hell.’

‘Spooning now, are we?’ says a disturbingly familiar voice from amidst the crowd at the doorway. ‘I had no idea you two had taken your relationship to the next level!’

A bespectacled face topped with the bird’s nest it calls hair appears among the bobbing heads, grinning. My blood hits boiling point. I should’ve known.

The head of James Potter, followed by the three other equally hateful heads of his cronies, pushes its way to the front.

Black gazes smugly around the room and mutters something that sounds a lot like, ‘Henrietta, you did us proud.’

‘Thank you all for coming to see the show!’ Potter announces to the spectators. ‘If you like what you see, we will be selling 150 gram jars of Permanently Greasy Grease in the Gryffindor Common Room this morning! Only 5 sickles a jar!’

‘You,’ I spit out, glowering at Potter whilst simultaneously trying to prise Malfoy vice-like grip from my waist. ‘I am… I just… I will…’

‘Oh Snivellus, you’ll get over that stammer of yours one day,’ says Black in a maddeningly patronising tone. ‘Just remember: slow and steady wins the race…’

I feel as though I am about to explode with rage. But explosions are really quite difficult when the slightest movement will only result in further humiliation, and when you have a Lucius Malfoy welded to your back. I have to settle for trying to bore holes into Potter’s skull with my death stare instead.

It does not work quite as effectively as I hoped.

‘Well, we’re going to have to leave you two lovebirds to it,’ says Potter, backing back down the corridor like the coward that he is. ‘Sad though it is that we can’t stay and watch you try to get out of this, there is money to be made. Besides, I am rather keen on leaving before you two get overexcited and start making out.’

There are giggles from the crowd. I death stare at them all. The revenge for this is going to be a big one.

Description
Click here for Part I

My ears feel oddly warm.

This is the first thought that springs to mind when I wake. The musings that usually cross my mind first thing in the morning are generally rather dull. This is a new one.

I yawn and reach for my wand, intending to cool my ears down with some sort of ice-cubes-popping-out-of-the-the-wand charm. I blindly pat the bedside table to feel for the handle but as I grab it, it slips right out of my hand and falls on the floor. I sigh. I get the feeling today is going to be a bad day.

I swing my legs out of bed and go to pick it back up. But as soon as I transfer my weight to the floor, something under my foot causes me to go flying across the room – one foot grounded and the other mid-air – and bang face-first into the wall. Unfortunately, my nose then slides down the wall and I end up spread-eagled with an up-close view of the Slytherin dormitory floor.

Even when I gingerly try to arrange myself into a slightly less ridiculous position (on hands and knees), my arm gives way and I once again find myself gliding across the room, this time face-down, before finally colliding with a bed post.

But the impact between the bedpost and the side of my head is cushioned by something soft. Something pink. Something fluffy. As I slowly begin to understand the reason for my overly warm ears, I also notice that the Slytherin door has at some point during ym impromptu acrobatics been forced open, and now a sea of faces look down at me with glee. But how in Merlin’s name did they manage to hear the noise from the other side of school? And how did they force the door open? This whole situation is completely implausible!

Even through the earmuffs I can hear much laughing and jeering. I whip the surprisingly comfortable earmuffs off my head to interject a witty comeback. However, the movement propels me backwards into the flailing arms of Lucius Malfoy, who the moment before had conveniently decided to drag his carcass out of bed to try and threaten the crowd with his precious prefect badge, and instead been subjected to the same fate as me. We lie, helpless on the floor, with Malfoy clutching me to him as though I am some sort of giant, very uncuddly teddybear.

‘Snape,’ he hisses in my ear. ‘What. The. Hell.’

‘Spooning now, are we?’ says a disturbingly familiar voice from amidst the crowd at the doorway. ‘I had no idea you two had taken your relationship to the next level!’

A bespectacled face topped with the bird’s nest it calls hair appears among the bobbing heads, grinning. My blood hits boiling point. I should’ve known.

The head of James Potter, followed by the three other equally hateful heads of his cronies, pushes its way to the front.

Black gazes smugly around the room and mutters something that sounds a lot like, ‘Henrietta, you did us proud.’

‘Thank you all for coming to see the show!’ Potter announces to the spectators. ‘If you like what you see, we will be selling 150 gram jars of Permanently Greasy Grease in the Gryffindor Common Room this morning! Only 5 sickles a jar!’

‘You,’ I spit out, glowering at Potter whilst simultaneously trying to prise Malfoy vice-like grip from my waist. ‘I am… I just… I will…’

‘Oh Snivellus, you’ll get over that stammer of yours one day,’ says Black in a maddeningly patronising tone. ‘Just remember: slow and steady wins the race…’

I feel as though I am about to explode with rage. But explosions are really quite difficult when the slightest movement will only result in further humiliation, and when you have a Lucius Malfoy welded to your back. I have to settle for trying to bore holes into Potter’s skull with my death stare instead.

It does not work quite as effectively as I hoped.

‘Well, we’re going to have to leave you two lovebirds to it,’ says Potter, backing back down the corridor like the coward that he is. ‘Sad though it is that we can’t stay and watch you try to get out of this, there is money to be made. Besides, I am rather keen on leaving before you two get overexcited and start making out.’

There are giggles from the crowd. I death stare at them all. The revenge for this is going to be a big one.