GALLONS OF GALLEONS!
Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold?
Contact Fred and George Weasley,
Gryffindor common room,
for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs
(WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT'S OWN RISK)
Fred and George were at it again. Their own joke shop, allowing students to get paid to help regulate their products. Genius.
Well, at least I thought it was. Hermione, not so much.
"They are the limit," said Hermione grimly, taking down the sign. "We'll have to talk to them, Ron."
Ron looked positively alarmed.
"Why?"
"Because we're prefects!" said Hermione. "It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!"
Ron said nothing, but I could tell that stopping Fred and George wasn't something he found inviting.
"Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who," Ron changed the topic. Harry shot him an icy look, whereas Hermione sighed.
"Lavender thinks so, too," she said gloomily.
"When'd she say that?" I asked.
"Right before you came in. I told her to keep her fat mouth shut!" huffed Hermione.
I gasped and laughed at the thought of Hermione shouting at Lavender Brown, our roommate. Harry looked ashamed as if he were going to yell at her, whereas Ron looked proud at the fact she stood up for Harry.
"Whatever, let's go for breakfast," I rolled my eyes, walking towards the portrait hole. As we made it to the Great Hall, we finally got our lessons for this term, "what classes did you guys get?"
Ron groaned at my question, looking over today's schedule, "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts... Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snack boxes sorted—"
"Do mine ears deceive me?" said Fred, arriving with George and squeezing onto the bench beside me. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"
"Look what we've got today," said Ron grumpily, shoving his schedule under George's nose.
"That's the worst Monday– Wednesday– Friday setup I've ever seen," George nudged Ron.
"Fair point, little bro," said Fred, after scanning the column. "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."
"Why are they cheap?" I raised a brow at them.
"You'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," said George.
"Cheers," said Ron, "but I'll take my lessons."
"What about you?" Harry asked me.
"Uh, History, double potions, Arithmancy, and then double Dark Arts, like you guys," I nodded. "This blows, I don't want any classes with Professor Umbitch."
"Say that again?" Fred mused. George slowly grinned at my comment, trying to not laugh at me.
My cheeks grew hot at their pestering and I elbowed both of them, "hush! I've always called her that. She is! I've hated her since the moment I— Well, she's a bitch."
"Now, I'm starting to think those Nosebleed Nougats might be a good idea," Harry groaned.
"And speaking of your Skiving Snack boxes," said Hermione, eyeing Fred and George beadily, "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor notice board."
"Says who?" said George, looking astonished.
"Says me," said Hermione. "And Ron."
"Leave me out of it," said Ron hastily.
Hermione glared at him. Fred and George sniggered.
"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," said Fred, thickly buttering a crumpet. "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long."
"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?" asked Hermione.
"Fifth year's O.W.L. year," said George.
"Oh goodness," I groaned besides the fact they mean nothing to me.
"Oh goodness is right. You lot've got your exams coming up, haven't you? They'll be keeping your noses so hard to that grindstone they'll be rubbed raw," said Fred with satisfaction.
"Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to O.W.L.s," said George happily. "Tears and tantrums... Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint..."
"Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?" said Fred reminiscently.
"That's 'cause you put Bulbadox Powder in his pyjamas," said George.
"Oh yeah," said Fred, grinning. "I'd forgotten... Hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?"
"Anyway, it's a nightmare of a year, the fifth," said George. "If you care about exam results anyway."
"I reckon I don't have to try too hard," I smirked. Hermione shot me a glare. "I don't! Not like it'll mean anything anyways."
"Fred and I managed to keep our spirits up somehow and managed to pass at least one of our O.W.L.s," George shrugged.
"Yep," said Fred unconcernedly. "But we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement."
"We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year," said George brightly, "now that we've got —"
"— now that we've got our O.W.L.s," Fred said hastily. "I mean, do we really need N.E.W.T.s? But we didn't think Mum could take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat."
"As long as you've got your futures set, I don't see a problem," I shrugged.
"Ahh, this is why you're my favourite girl," Fred wrapped his arm around my shoulder and George did the same.
"Your joke shop, yeah?" Hermione asked sceptically. "You're going to need all the ingredients and materials — and premises too, I suppose..."
"Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies, Hermione. C'mon, George, if we get there early we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears before Herbology," Fred laughed and left the table.
"What did that mean?" Hermione directed her question towards me.
"I plead the fifth," I zipped an imaginary zipper over my lips and held my hands up. Harry, Ron, and Hermione gave me confused looks at my American Joke but didn't ask any further questions.
As we were on our way to Potions, someone walked around the corner towards us; earning a very well earned glare from me.
"Hello, Harry!"
Cho Chang completely ignored Ron, Hermione, and me. She acted as if Harry was by himself like she was. Surprisingly enough, she wasn't surrounded by her gang of giggling girls.
"Hi," Harry blushed.
"You got that stuff off, then?"
"Yeah," said Harry airily. "So... did you have a good summer?"
Her smile dropped a bit and I suddenly remembered that Cedric had told me they were supposed to go around muggle London this summer. She forced a tight smile on her face, "Oh, it was all right– you know..."
"How are you doing?" I blurted.
Cho's attention turned to me and instead of the glare she had given me on the train, her eyes had softened– almost as if she felt bad. "It's been hard, but—"
"Is that a Tornadoes badge?" Ron demanded, completely ruining the small heartfelt moment. Cho's robe was pinned closed with a sky-blue badge emblazoned with a double gold T. "You don't support them, do you?"
"Yeah, I do," said Cho.
"Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?" Ron accused.
"I've supported them since I was six," glared Cho. "Anyway, see you, Harry. Feel better, Charlotte."
She walked away before Harry could say anything otherwise. Hermione waited until Cho was halfway across the courtyard before whacking Ron upside the head and punching my arm.
"You are so tackless! You too, Charlotte!"
"What? I only asked her if—" Ron rubbed his head.
"Couldn't you tell she wanted to talk to Harry on her own?"
"So? She could've done, I wasn't stopping—"
"What on earth were you attacking her about her Quidditch team for?"
"Attacking? I wasn't attacking her, I was only—"
"And you," Hermione pointed at my chest, "asking questions when you shouldn't have been!"
"I was curious about how she was doing! I knew she liked Cedric, I was being friendly. Plus, I could have said a lot worse– I don't like her," I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Why does it matter if you like her or not?"
"She likes Harry! Of course, it matters. She's not good for him," I huffed.
"Fancy Harry yourself, do you?" Ron teased. "Want to keep him all to yourself?"
"Stop speaking nonsense! Says you," I narrowed my eyes at him despite the slight tinge of pink on my cheeks. "Friends don't crush on their best friend's friends."
Before Ron could respond, Harry nudged us, "that's the bell. Let's go."
Hermione, Ron, and I had been arguing so loudly that we missed the sound of the bell. As we made our way to Potions, I knew Harry was in his own world thinking of Cho Chang. I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his infatuation. She wasn't good for him and I knew it, but I also knew I couldn't say anything.
"One of you better sit with me. I don't want to end up with Draco as my partner again," I called over to the three of them.
"I thought he was your friend," Hermione wiggled her brows at me.
"Friend or not, he sucks at brewing sometimes. I need someone who won't try to blow me up this term," I rolled my eyes at her insinuation.
Instead of ending up at my table, at the back next to Draco, I followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione to their usual table, sitting next to Hermione. Harry and Ron sat on one side of the table as Hermione and I sat on the other, claiming each other as partners for the class.
"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him. "Before we begin today's lesson, I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my. . . displeasure.
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best in my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."
His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back, feeling a grim pleasure at the idea that he would be able to give up Potions after fifth year.
"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students.
"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method are on the blackboard and you will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half. Start."
Just as we had predicted, Snape couldn't have set a more difficult, fiddly potion. I looked desperately around the dungeon. My own cauldron was issuing the perfect live silver steam. As Snape swept by he looked down his hooked nose at mine without comment, which meant that he could find nothing to criticize. I smiled lightly to myself. At Harry's cauldron, however, Snape stopped, looking down at Harry with a horrible smirk on his face.
"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"
The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Harry.
"The Draught of Peace," said Harry tensely.
"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"
Draco Malfoy laughed.
"Yes, I can."
"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."
Harry squinted at the blackboard.
" 'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.' "
"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"
"No," said Harry very quietly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"No," said Harry, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore..."
"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco."
The contents of Harry's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron.
"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."
"That was really unfair," I consoled Harry as we sat down in the Great Hall.
"Yeah," Hermione agreed, helping herself to shepherd's pie, "your potion wasn't nearly as bad as Goyle's, when he put it in his flagon the whole thing shattered and set his robes on fire."
"Yeah, well," said Harry, glowering at his plate, "since when has Snape ever been fair to me?"
Neither of us answered; all of us knew that Snape and Harry's mutual enmity had been absolute from the moment Harry had set foot in Hogwarts. This caused Ron and Hermione to argue about how much Dumbledore trusted Snape, especially with the reappearance of Voldemort.
"Oh, shut up, the both of you," I snapped at them. Hermione and Ron both looked at me all angry and offended. "Can you give it a rest? You're always having a go at each other, you've actually given me a headache."
Pushing away my food, I didn't wait for their response as I left the Great Hall with my bag over my shoulder. Not knowing where to go, I ran up the marble stairs towards the isolated Astronomy Tower. Although classes are still in session, the halls were empty, aside from the patrolling Head Boys and Girls.
I spent the rest of my lunch hour with my legs hanging off the ledge of the hall near the Astronomy Tower. Staring out the window, towards the forest, I swung my legs over the large fountain.
"Fancy finding you up here?"
Looking towards my right, I found Draco with a wide smile. His prefect badge shined in the sunlight that came in through the window.
"Not planning to pitch yourself off the Astronomy Tower, I hope?"
"Not necessarily," I laughed at him.
"Why all glum, chum?" Draco poked my shoulder.
"You're awfully cheery today. Who'd you write off?" I prodded.
"This horrible first year! She kept on— wait, how did you know I wrote someone for detention?"
"Evil Malfoy, back at it again," I sighed.
Swinging my legs over to the floor, I leaned up against the ledge railing to better face Draco, who now wore a mockingly offended face.
"Me? Evil?" he scoffed.
"Draco Malfoy, fifth-year Slytherin, local bully– says the first years," I motioned in front of me as if I were resighting a reporting pitch.
"I could write you up, you know," Draco emptily threatened, "for bullying a prefect."
"Me? A bully? The sweet little American who had been tormented the entire last term by a traitorous reporter? Dumbledore would reject the detention slip," I chuckled.
"You're more vicious than you were last year, are you sure you haven't given in your red robes for some green ones?" he teased. When I didn't answer his joke, he furrowed his brows in concern. "What's wrong?"
"I've got a headache. Her– My friends had been arguing and been acting weird for no reason," I admitted.
"Maybe it's because you're the only one that perfectly passed your Potions today," Draco offered.
Looking up at him, I searched for any sign of jesting.
"Perfectly? Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I was one of the last ones to leave and your potion was the first he tried. Instant grading. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd get an O in your O.W.L. practices!"
"I didn't know that, thanks," I smiled at him.
"Glad to be the cause of that smile."
My face heated up at his comment just as the bell rang, dismissing classes.
"Uh, I've got to go," I stuttered.
"What class do you have? I- I could walk you," Draco offered.
"I have Arithmancy with Professor Vector. Hermione is in that class and I don't know if..."
"Oh— Uh— alright then. What class do you have afterwards?"
"Double Dark Arts with Professor Umbitch," I mumbled sourly.
"Charlotte, I warned you... please take caution in her class. She's... she's not a force to be reckoned with. She doesn't lose," Draco reminded me.
"I'm a Gryffindor for a reason," I shrugged and smiled at his concern.