Wot In The Harri Potter?

8 - The Ford Anglia

"I was starved all my life," I say, spraying bits of bacon everywhere, "so forgive me for finally living."

"... ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT..."

I glance over to the Gryffindor table where Ron has sunk so low in his chair that all I can see is the top of his red hair. The envelope which has been screaming at him bursts into flames and curls into ashes.

"Tea?" Pansy offers, pouring me a fresh cup anyway.

"I thought you weren't going to come when I couldn't find you on the train," Draco says sulkily. "I thought maybe they'd locked you up again."

"Nah, I stayed on at Ron's."

Draco's face takes on a thunderous expression, but all he mutters is, "Hip hip hooray for the Weasleys."

I ignore him, instead checking my timetable to see what lessons we have coming up.

"Oh no, not that twat." I sigh, seeing Lockhart's name next to our first lesson: Defence Against the Dark Arts. "And a double period, too!"

"Still, at least it's not with the Gryffindors," Draco says cheerfully.

We all drag our feet, none of us really wanting to face hell.

It turns out, Professor Lockhart is even more of a narcissistic moron than I realised, using the entire lesson to teach us all about his favourite things.

"I didn't even know lilac was a colour!" Goyle splutters when Lockhart scolds him for getting his favourite colour wrong during the class quiz.

Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones get equal top marks, and, as a reward, Lockhart offers them a nightcap in his office after dinner ("Make sure you keep the uniforms on.").

The week drags on, with Snape making Potions continually unbearable too. At least he seems to favour Draco, and with us being partners in everything, it means I don't ever end up failing. I just don't get acknowledged instead.

With the weekend finally upon us, I am relieved that this first week is over. Draco, especially seems excited about it.

"What are you doing after breakfast this morning?" He asks me as soon as I step out into the common room from the girls dormitory.

"Well it's the weekend so going back to bed," I mutter through a yawn.

"Or, you can come down to the Quidditch pitch?"

"Why the hell would I want to do that? It's freezing out there!"

"Because when you shook my hand, you were agreeing to be my friend, no matter what. And as my friend, I am asking you to come down to the Quidditch pitch after breakfast."

I narrow my eyes. "I wasn't aware it was binding."

Draco just looks at me until I eventually cave.

"Fine," I grumble crossing my arms over my chest. Ever since I'd started at Hogwarts I'd stopped becoming a morning person. Must be the luxury bedding that I'd been deprived of in the past.

When I reach the empty Quidditch pitch later that morning, I spy Ron and Hermione sitting in the stands, so I go and join them.

"What are you here for?" I ask, gratefully accepting a bite of Ron's toast even though I'd just eaten a full English breakfast.

"Dunno," Ron shrugs. "Fred and George told us to come down. Apparently there's a surprise."

"Huh, that's odd, that's exactly what Draco said too."