𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 | HPau

─ ¹⁰. LITTLE RAY OF PITCH BLACK, MALLOY

Aidan Lynch

P.S.: I'd love for you to come to my next game if you're free. :)

"When's his next game?" Hermione asked.

"November," Seamus said scrunching up his nose, "You'll be in school. . . ."

"Oh well, that's a shame," said Hermione with a slight pout, before it was replaced by a smirk, as she stood up and put her bag over her shoulder. She, Ginny, and Angelina left the Great Hall, afterward going their separate ways, leaving the Gryffindor house in shock. 

Hermione Granger was getting letters from famous Quidditch players.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch after a really disgusting morning of pus and skrewts, in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures.

"Now they're small. They'll be like. . . . huge if Hagrid finds what they eat," Hermione said.

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure hair sickness, right?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her, referring to the time in class when she defended the skrewts from Malfoy by saying their saliva would cure "hair sickness".

"If you didn't notice by now, my hair is awesome. Besides, I'd rather have those blasted things dead in a ditch before they start maiming us all," said Hermione.

They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes—Hermione actually got the pasta, she wasn't a fan of potatoes. 

Afterward, she went to Arithmancy, her last class before dinner. Oh, dinner. How Hermione loves thee.

"Miserable old bat," said Ron bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner, grumbling about his Divination homework. "That'll take all weekend, that will. . . ."

"It's not like you have plans, Ronald," said Hermione, catching up with them and Ron scowled at her making Harry laugh.

They reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line when a loud voice rang out behind them and Hermione groaned.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. 

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" said Ron shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. "Listen to this! FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Malfoy looked up.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and at- tempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.