It was a hot day in September, the first day of the term, as Harry and Ron sat inside the stuffy perfume congested Divinations classroom, listening to Professor Trewlaney go on. They hadn't heard a word that she had said from the start of the lesson.
"Why, oh why, did we not give this up?" asked Harry, grimacing. He turned to face Ron, who's eyes were drooping shut from boredom.
"Easy grades, Harry." said Ron. "And also Hermione's not in this class so she can't scream at us to do our homework; she'll never know if we have any."
Ron glanced around the classroom, focusing on Lavender and Parvati who were sitting completely still, enraptured by Professor Trelawney's words.
"At this point, its not worth it." He vaguely noticed Lavender and Parvati's hands shoot up in the air, as a small paper plane few by Harry, and on reflex, he reached his arm up to catch it.
"Ahh! Yes, Mister Potter, why don't you demonstrate for us?" said Professor Trelawney.
Oh bugger.
"Er, me?" asked Harry.
"Yes Mister Potter, come along now!" Professor Trelawney was moving her hands in a come-hither motion at Harry. He slowly walked forth, his heart rate steadily increasing. When he reached the front, Professor Trelawney put her hands on his shoulders and sat him onto a chair, that was facing a table with a crystal ball, Tarrot cards, and an aubergine.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?
"Okay dear, here you are," she handed him a small vial filled with an inky purple substance, closed with a cork stopper. He looked up at Lavender, who was absolutely oozing envy, and was steadfastedly giving him the "evil eye".
"You may start now, Mister Potter."
Crappety crappety crap.
Harry barely moved. He sat staring at the aubergine, willing it to come to life and start singing, tapdancing, screaming Imperio - anything! But alas, as Professor Trelawney would say, Jupiter and Neptune were on the opposite sides of the axis, and Pluto was having an affair with Venus. In other words, Lady Luck was not on his side. Either that or she was taking a gambling break.
"Oh my, Mister Potter, I completely forgot that you need assistance!" said Professor Trelawney.
Oh thank God.
"Here," she said, handing him a small knife. "Aubergines are murder to cut, really messy." she smiled.
Harry fingered the vial in his hands, wondering if maybe he was supposed to drink it, or pour it on his face or something. Finally he decieded to play for time and improvise. He picked up the Tarrot cards from the side of the table, and laid them out around the aubergine and the crystall ball.
"Hmm, Mister Potter. I've never tried that before, does it help?" asked Professor Trelawney.
"Er, yes, infact it's, er, quite, vital, you see. It makes Saturn, er, dance." Then he took the knife and slowly cut a hole in the aubergine, the juices running down and turning the dark blue table cloth purple. Finally, he uncorked the vial and poured what little there was into the hole. Slowly, smoke started appearing, and the aubergine slowly disintegrated, followed by the velvet cloth. Harry pretended not to notice.
Thank God I didn't pour it on my face, then.
He swirled his hands around over the crystal ball, and screamed,
"Booyakasha!"
****
As they walked down the stairs from the divination classroom, Ron's stomach was hurting from laughing so much.
"Blimey,Harry! Didn't know you had it in you, taking the piss off Trelawney. Oh her face when you said boo..boo..booya?"
he stopped in his tracks and doubled over laughing again, using a window sill as support, tears of mirth streaming down his face.
"Yes, yes. Alright."
"No, I mean really," said Ron, after he'd regained his composure and was now walking down the corridor leading to the Great Hall. “I wish Creevey had been there…he could have taken a picture for me!" Cue more laughter. Even once they entered the great hall, and had sat down next to a puzzled Hermione and Ginny, Ron was still having spasms.
"What’s so funny, Weaselbean?" drawled a familiar voice.
Aw fuck it.
"Hullo, Malfoy," said Ginny absently. Draco ignored her.
"Laughing at the fact that Harry smells like a girl? What, have you been getting some?" He said, turning to face Harry.
"Malfoy, that’s a really lame insul - " he started, and then realized that he probably did smell like perfume, thanks to the Divinations classroom.
"Come to think of it," continued Draco, relentless, "you smell awfully the same, Weaselbean," he paused, as if considering the possibilites. "Ménage a Trois, huh?" he said, pointedly staring at Hermione.
"Yeah, Malfoy,” cut in Harry, that’s something you’d know about, right? What with Crabbe and Goyle, and everything,” Malfoy narrowed his eyes in hate.
”Well then perhaps one of you prefers using Eau de Lady?”
Ron was slowly turning red. “Hermione! Aren’t you going to say anything?!” He asked Hermione, who was daintily eating away at a shepherds pie. When she was done chewing her mouthful (and aggravating Ron) she looked up, and said rather sheepishly,
”Well, Ron, I would, but –“
"YOU’RE HAVING A TORRIED AFFAIR WITH MALFOY, AREN’T YOU??” screamed Ron, his voice getting a little hysterical, and reminiscent of a five year old girl. “BEFORE WE KNOW IT, THERE’LL BE LITTLE BLONDE BRATS RUNNING AROUND EVERYWHERE!”
Most of the student body was now staring at them, including a fair load of teachers who were thinking about whether the offspring of Draco and Hermione would have frizzy blonde hair or straight brown hair.
“Oh Ronald, please,” cut in Ginny, “be sensible. If Draco and Hermione were to have children, they’d have brown hair.” And she fell about laughing.
If anyone of them had looked around, they would have seen Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore surreptitiously passing Galleons across the table.
Draco once again ignored her, but nonetheless looked offended. “No freaking way will I be consummating with some buck-toothed, frizzy haired chipmunk!”
”Oooooh,” chorused the Hufflepuff table.
”Well at least I’m not a FERRET!” retorted Hermione, immediately and easily.
”Ahhhhh,” chorused the Ravenclaw table.
”Oh sure,” said Ron. “Now she replies.”
”What do you want me to do?” Sit around and say nothing while he insults me?”
”Yeah, just like you did when he insulted me. Oh, and Harry.”
“Why do you always need me to stick up for you?”
”I don’t need you to stick up for me!”
By this time, Ginny had grown bored of the argument, and was now counting the peas on her plate.
“Well it sure seems like it!”
“Fine. Well from now on I’ll never stick up for you, AND I refuse to have anybody stick up for me!”
Well, I don’t care, because I’m not going to stick up for you , AND nobody will stick up for me, either!”
“Good!”
“Fine!”
“FINE!”
“Ooh goody!” said Draco. “Weasel, you remind me of shite!”
“Malfoy,” cut in Harry, threateningly.
“I SAID NO ONE WOULD DEFEND ME!”
“And I think you’re ga-ay,” said Malfoy, in a sing song voice.
“Shove off, Malfoy.”
“Granger, I don’t find you’re blood tainted,” Hermione had the beginnings of a smile, when -
“I think its downright filthy!”
See smile run. Run, smile, run.
“Weasley, your hair looks like someone ate a shitload of carrots and then vomited.”
“Shove off, Malfoy.”
Draco smirked.
“I suppose I’m getting rather bored of this, really, so I suppose I’ll just go,” he said, turning around.
“Oh, but one last thing,” Draco drawled as he turned to face Hermione. “Nice tits, Granger,” and he walked away.
Ron looked reminiscent of a Picasso painting. That is to say, his eyes were completely out of proportion with his face. Hermione looked down and fidgeted with her shirt a little, readjusting it.
Oooh thought Ginny, a little irked. He noticed you! Why does he not notice me? Not that she liked him or anything. That thought was laughable. Really. Seriously.
Suddenly a loud chorus of laughter erupted from the Slytherin table. Harry guessed that Malfoy had told them what witting and amazing lines he’d come up with.
“Students, students, settle down, please,” came the booming voice of Professor Dumbledore. “I have an announcement to make,” he said, “I had a many number of students inquiring about the health of our previous DADA teacher. Let it be known that Professor Wopsle is recovering very well and he now only has three heads. However, as it seems is the tradition at this school, we have a new Defence Againts The Dark Arts teacher. Please welcome, Professor Lucius Malfoy.”
From his seat, Draco fainted.
"Why, oh why, did we not give this up?" asked Harry, grimacing. He turned to face Ron, who's eyes were drooping shut from boredom.
"Easy grades, Harry." said Ron. "And also Hermione's not in this class so she can't scream at us to do our homework; she'll never know if we have any."
Ron glanced around the classroom, focusing on Lavender and Parvati who were sitting completely still, enraptured by Professor Trelawney's words.
"At this point, its not worth it." He vaguely noticed Lavender and Parvati's hands shoot up in the air, as a small paper plane few by Harry, and on reflex, he reached his arm up to catch it.
"Ahh! Yes, Mister Potter, why don't you demonstrate for us?" said Professor Trelawney.
Oh bugger.
"Er, me?" asked Harry.
"Yes Mister Potter, come along now!" Professor Trelawney was moving her hands in a come-hither motion at Harry. He slowly walked forth, his heart rate steadily increasing. When he reached the front, Professor Trelawney put her hands on his shoulders and sat him onto a chair, that was facing a table with a crystal ball, Tarrot cards, and an aubergine.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?
"Okay dear, here you are," she handed him a small vial filled with an inky purple substance, closed with a cork stopper. He looked up at Lavender, who was absolutely oozing envy, and was steadfastedly giving him the "evil eye".
"You may start now, Mister Potter."
Crappety crappety crap.
Harry barely moved. He sat staring at the aubergine, willing it to come to life and start singing, tapdancing, screaming Imperio - anything! But alas, as Professor Trelawney would say, Jupiter and Neptune were on the opposite sides of the axis, and Pluto was having an affair with Venus. In other words, Lady Luck was not on his side. Either that or she was taking a gambling break.
"Oh my, Mister Potter, I completely forgot that you need assistance!" said Professor Trelawney.
Oh thank God.
"Here," she said, handing him a small knife. "Aubergines are murder to cut, really messy." she smiled.
Harry fingered the vial in his hands, wondering if maybe he was supposed to drink it, or pour it on his face or something. Finally he decieded to play for time and improvise. He picked up the Tarrot cards from the side of the table, and laid them out around the aubergine and the crystall ball.
"Hmm, Mister Potter. I've never tried that before, does it help?" asked Professor Trelawney.
"Er, yes, infact it's, er, quite, vital, you see. It makes Saturn, er, dance." Then he took the knife and slowly cut a hole in the aubergine, the juices running down and turning the dark blue table cloth purple. Finally, he uncorked the vial and poured what little there was into the hole. Slowly, smoke started appearing, and the aubergine slowly disintegrated, followed by the velvet cloth. Harry pretended not to notice.
Thank God I didn't pour it on my face, then.
He swirled his hands around over the crystal ball, and screamed,
"Booyakasha!"
****
As they walked down the stairs from the divination classroom, Ron's stomach was hurting from laughing so much.
"Blimey,Harry! Didn't know you had it in you, taking the piss off Trelawney. Oh her face when you said boo..boo..booya?"
he stopped in his tracks and doubled over laughing again, using a window sill as support, tears of mirth streaming down his face.
"Yes, yes. Alright."
"No, I mean really," said Ron, after he'd regained his composure and was now walking down the corridor leading to the Great Hall. “I wish Creevey had been there…he could have taken a picture for me!" Cue more laughter. Even once they entered the great hall, and had sat down next to a puzzled Hermione and Ginny, Ron was still having spasms.
"What’s so funny, Weaselbean?" drawled a familiar voice.
Aw fuck it.
"Hullo, Malfoy," said Ginny absently. Draco ignored her.
"Laughing at the fact that Harry smells like a girl? What, have you been getting some?" He said, turning to face Harry.
"Malfoy, that’s a really lame insul - " he started, and then realized that he probably did smell like perfume, thanks to the Divinations classroom.
"Come to think of it," continued Draco, relentless, "you smell awfully the same, Weaselbean," he paused, as if considering the possibilites. "Ménage a Trois, huh?" he said, pointedly staring at Hermione.
"Yeah, Malfoy,” cut in Harry, that’s something you’d know about, right? What with Crabbe and Goyle, and everything,” Malfoy narrowed his eyes in hate.
”Well then perhaps one of you prefers using Eau de Lady?”
Ron was slowly turning red. “Hermione! Aren’t you going to say anything?!” He asked Hermione, who was daintily eating away at a shepherds pie. When she was done chewing her mouthful (and aggravating Ron) she looked up, and said rather sheepishly,
”Well, Ron, I would, but –“
"YOU’RE HAVING A TORRIED AFFAIR WITH MALFOY, AREN’T YOU??” screamed Ron, his voice getting a little hysterical, and reminiscent of a five year old girl. “BEFORE WE KNOW IT, THERE’LL BE LITTLE BLONDE BRATS RUNNING AROUND EVERYWHERE!”
Most of the student body was now staring at them, including a fair load of teachers who were thinking about whether the offspring of Draco and Hermione would have frizzy blonde hair or straight brown hair.
“Oh Ronald, please,” cut in Ginny, “be sensible. If Draco and Hermione were to have children, they’d have brown hair.” And she fell about laughing.
If anyone of them had looked around, they would have seen Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore surreptitiously passing Galleons across the table.
Draco once again ignored her, but nonetheless looked offended. “No freaking way will I be consummating with some buck-toothed, frizzy haired chipmunk!”
”Oooooh,” chorused the Hufflepuff table.
”Well at least I’m not a FERRET!” retorted Hermione, immediately and easily.
”Ahhhhh,” chorused the Ravenclaw table.
”Oh sure,” said Ron. “Now she replies.”
”What do you want me to do?” Sit around and say nothing while he insults me?”
”Yeah, just like you did when he insulted me. Oh, and Harry.”
“Why do you always need me to stick up for you?”
”I don’t need you to stick up for me!”
By this time, Ginny had grown bored of the argument, and was now counting the peas on her plate.
“Well it sure seems like it!”
“Fine. Well from now on I’ll never stick up for you, AND I refuse to have anybody stick up for me!”
Well, I don’t care, because I’m not going to stick up for you , AND nobody will stick up for me, either!”
“Good!”
“Fine!”
“FINE!”
“Ooh goody!” said Draco. “Weasel, you remind me of shite!”
“Malfoy,” cut in Harry, threateningly.
“I SAID NO ONE WOULD DEFEND ME!”
“And I think you’re ga-ay,” said Malfoy, in a sing song voice.
“Shove off, Malfoy.”
“Granger, I don’t find you’re blood tainted,” Hermione had the beginnings of a smile, when -
“I think its downright filthy!”
See smile run. Run, smile, run.
“Weasley, your hair looks like someone ate a shitload of carrots and then vomited.”
“Shove off, Malfoy.”
Draco smirked.
“I suppose I’m getting rather bored of this, really, so I suppose I’ll just go,” he said, turning around.
“Oh, but one last thing,” Draco drawled as he turned to face Hermione. “Nice tits, Granger,” and he walked away.
Ron looked reminiscent of a Picasso painting. That is to say, his eyes were completely out of proportion with his face. Hermione looked down and fidgeted with her shirt a little, readjusting it.
Oooh thought Ginny, a little irked. He noticed you! Why does he not notice me? Not that she liked him or anything. That thought was laughable. Really. Seriously.
Suddenly a loud chorus of laughter erupted from the Slytherin table. Harry guessed that Malfoy had told them what witting and amazing lines he’d come up with.
“Students, students, settle down, please,” came the booming voice of Professor Dumbledore. “I have an announcement to make,” he said, “I had a many number of students inquiring about the health of our previous DADA teacher. Let it be known that Professor Wopsle is recovering very well and he now only has three heads. However, as it seems is the tradition at this school, we have a new Defence Againts The Dark Arts teacher. Please welcome, Professor Lucius Malfoy.”
From his seat, Draco fainted.
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