"I know you have the badge somewhere here!" Percy's voice shouted waking me from my sleep.
"What the hell!" I cried springing out of my bed grabbing my wand to see that Percy has unpacked most of things.
"Where's my badge (Y/n)! And what did you do to my photo!"
"Get the hell out of my room!" I shouted at him, sparks shooting from the tip of my wand.
Percy seemed to see this and back out of the room. I sighed looking around.
We could have killed him, no one would've known.
"Yeah that wouldn't be suspicious at all would it?" I snarled sarcastically.
I spent the rest of the morning repacking everything, and had only just finished when Ron woke up.
"Come on let's get Harry up." He muttered, pulling on a jumper. We heading next door, not bothering to knock.
"The sooner we get on the train, the better," I said as we entered the room said. "At least I can get away from Percy at Hogwarts. Now he's accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of Penelope Clearwater."
"You know," Ron grimaced, "his girlfriend. She's hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy..."
"I've got something to tell you," Harry began, but we were interrupted by Fred and George, who had looked in to congratulate me on infuriating Percy again.
We headed down to breakfast, where Dad was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mum was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly.
"What were you saying?" Ron asked Harry as we sat down.
"Later," Harry muttered as Percy stormed in.
I had no chance to speak to Ron, Hermione, or Harry in the chaos of leaving; we were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig and Hermes, Percy's screech owl, perched on top in their cages.
A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.
"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."
"You won't," snapped Ron. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"
He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket. Dad, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside. "They're here," he said. "Harry, come on."
"Course he gets to go first." I said slightly bitterly.
What did you expect from the famous Harry Potter?
A few seconds later Dad came back and we joined Harry in the car. The journey to King's Cross was very uneventful. The Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary. though I noticed that they seemed to be able to slide through gaps that looked to be too small.
We reached King's Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found us trolleys, unloaded our trunks, touched their hats in salute to Dad, and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving line at the traffic lights.
Dad kept close to Harry's elbow all the way into the station.
"Right then," he said, glancing around them. "Let's do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. I'll go through first with Harry."
Dad strolled toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing Harry's trolley and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Harry, he leaned casually against the barrier. Harry imitated him.
YOU ARE READING
The Weasley of Slytherin: The Prisoner of Azkaban
Fanfiction(Y/n) Wesley, only in his third year has already been possessed by Lord Voldemort , and since then has been hearing his voice in his head every since then. And now going in to his third year how will he cope with this new burden, and what mischief...
