Bloodline | Harry Potter x Reader [DISCONTINUED]

Second Year~Chapter Five

Third Person POV

Things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy grey).

Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table opposite (Y/N) and Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the way Hermione said 'Morning' which told Harry that she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived. Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, greeted them cheerfully.

'Post's due any minute – I think Gran's sending on a few things I forgot.'

Harry had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the Hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy parcel bounced off Neville's head, a letter fell into (Y/N)'s lap, and a second later, something large and grey fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.

'Errol!' said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.

(Y/N) opened her letter and quickly skimmed it, before noticing the red envelope in front of Ron. (Y/N)'s father had sent her a message telling her that what she had done was very irresponsible, but understood that she probably wasn't thinking properly. He asked if she was okay and if she had gotten into too much trouble.

'Oh no –' Ron gasped.

'It's all right, he's still alive,' said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.

'It's not that – it's that.'

Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to Harry, but Ron, (Y/N) and Neville were all looking at it as though they expected it to explode.

'What's the matter?' said Harry.

'She's – she's sent me a Howler,' said Ron faintly.

'You'd better open it, Ron,' said Neville, in a timid whisper. 'It'll be worse if you don't. My Gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and –' he gulped, 'it was horrible.'

Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope.

'What's a Howler?' he said.

But Ron's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.

'Open it,' (Y/N) urged. 'It's better to get it over with ...'

Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears and (Y/N) leaned back in her seat. A split second later, Harry knew why. He thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge Hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

'... STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE ...'

Mrs Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the Hall were swivelling around to see who had received the Howler and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.

'... LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU, (Y/N) AND HARRY COULD HAVE ALL DIED ...'