Chapter Seven- "Because we're not Ravenclaws ..."
It isn't at all the triumphant arrival I was picturing. Stiff, cold and bruised, we seize the end of our trunks and begin dragging them up the grassy slope, towards the great oak front doors.
"I think the feast's already started," says Ron, dropping his trunk at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. "Hey guys, come and look - it's the Sorting!"
Harry and I hurry over, and together, we all peer in at the Great Hall.
Innumerable candles are hanging in mid-air over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling which always mirrors the sky outside, sparkles with the stars.
Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, I see a long line of scared-looking first-years filing into the Hall.
Hah, they're so small!
Wait...
Were we that small?
Nah!
Ginny is among the small people, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, is placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.
Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed and dirty, sorts new students into one of the four houses.
Or when your me, you get to choose your house!
Because I special!
A very small, mousey-haired boy has been called forward to place the hat on his head. My eyes wander past him to where Professor Dumbledore sits watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silvery beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, I see Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes the colour of aquamarine.
Fancy.......
And at the end is Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.
"Hang on ..." Harry mutters. "There's an empty chair at the staff table ... Where's Snape?"
Ah, our least favourite teacher. But he loves me! #obv
"Maybe he's ill!" says Ron hopefully.
"Maybe he's left," says Harry, "because he missed out on the Defence Against the Dark Arts job again!"
"Maybe he died," I say, and Harry and Ron look at me. "What? You can't rule it out!"
"Or he might have been sacked!" says Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him -"
"Or maybe," says a very cold voice right behind us, "he's waiting to hear why you three didn't arrive on the school train."
I spin around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze, stands Snape. He's a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose and greasy, shoulder-length black hair, and at the moment, he's smiling in a way that tells me we are in a lot of trouble.
"Well ... he's not dead," I whisper to Harry.
"Clearly," Snape says, "follow me."
Not daring to look at the other two, we follow Snape up the steps into the vast, echoing Entrance Hall, which is lit with flaming torches. A delicious smell of food is wafting from the Great Hall, but Snape leads us away from the warmth and light, down a narrow stone staircase that leads into the dungeons.
I'm soooo hungry......
"In!" Snape says, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and pointing.
We enter Snape's office, shivering. The shadowy walls are lined with shelves of large glass jars, in which floats all manner of revolting things I don't want to know the names of. The fireplace is dark and empty. Snape closes the door and turn to look at us.
"So," he says softly, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekicks Weasley and Swift. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we?"
"Bitch, I ain't no sidekick," I say and snap my fingers. "And it was the barrier at King's Cross, it -"
"Silence!" says Snape coldly. "What have you done with the car?"
"I ate it," I blurt out. All three of them stare at me.
"You ate it," Harry says slowly.
"Yep, well no," I blush, "I say what I'm thinking when I get nervous."
Bad habit that is.....
Snape shakes his head slowly, then unrolls today's issue of the Evening Prophet.
"You were seen," he hisses, showing us the headline: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He begins to read aloud. "'Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower ... at noon in Norfolk, Mrs Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing ... Mr Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police' ... six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office?" he says, looking up at Ron and smiling still more nastily. "Dear, dear ... his own son ..."
I feel as though I've just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's large branches. If anyone finds out Mr Weasley bewitched the car ...
"I noticed, in my search of the grounds, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow," Snape goes on.
"That tree did more damage to us than we -" Ron blurts out.
"Silence!" snaps Snape again. "Most unfortunately, you are not in my house and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here."
As soon as the door shuts behind him, I look up at the boys, both of which are very white.
"Whoops?" I say shakily.
"I ate it," Harry says weakly, shaking his head.
"I panicked!"
We lapse back into silence. My mind drifts back to the issue at hand.
We're screwed, aren't we?
Ten minutes later, Snape returns, and accompanying him is Professor McGonagall. I've seen her angry a lot, and I mean a lot, but either I've forgotten just how thin her mouth can go, or I've never seen her this angry. She raises her wand the moment she enters. Harry, Ron and I all flinch, but she merely points it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupt.
"Sit," she says, and we back into chairs by the fire, I move mine further away from it. "Explain," she says, her glasses glinting ominously.
"Explain what?" I ask blankly. Then it dawns on me. "Oh, right!"
Ron launches into the story, starting with the barrier at the station refusing to let us through.
"... so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train."
"Why didn't you send us a letter by owl? I believe you have an owl?" MG says coldly to Harry.
"Because we're not Ravenclaws," I answer glumly. "If you haven't already noticed, we're not very smart. We didn't think ....."
"That," she says, "is obvious."
There's a knock on the office door and Snape, now looking happier than ever, opens it. There stands the Head, Professor Dumbledore.
I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from shouting 'DUMBLES!'
He's looking unusually grave. He stares down his very crooked nose at us and squirm uncomfortably under his gaze. There's a long silence. Then Dumbledore says, "Please explain why you did this."
Harry relays the story to Dumbledore, who stays quiet the whole time. When's Harry finishes, he merely continues to peer at us through his spectacles.
"We'll go get our stuff," says Ron in a hopeless sort of voice.
"What are you talking about, Weasley?" barks Prof MG.
"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?"
"Oh my god," I say, standing up. "Please don't expel us. I will die if that happens. Well not literally, unless mum gets really angry, but I can't go back to Muggle school. It's like hell there. You can't make me go back. I'd rather be a squib for the rest of my life. I'd rather blue eaten by a dragon. I'd rather -"
Dumbledore holds up his hand to stop me.
"You're not getting expelled," he says. "But I must impress upon the three of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."
I sigh with relief and flop back onto my chair.
Snape looks as though Christmas has been cancelled. He clears his throat and says, "Professor Dumbledore, these boys and girl have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused damage to an old and valuable tree ... surely acts of this nature ..."
"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on their punishments, Severus," says Dumbledore calmly. "They are in her house and are therefore her responsibility." He turns to McGonagall. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample."
Snape shoots a look of pure venom at us as he allows himself to be swept out of his office, leaving us alone with Professor MG, who is still eyeing is like a wrathful eagle.
"You'd better get along to the hospital wing, Weasley, you're bleeding ."
"Not much," says Ron, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve. "Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted -"
"The Sorting Ceremony is over," says Professor McGonagall. "Your sister is also in Gryffindor."
"Oh good," says Ron.
"And speaking of Gryffindor -" Professor McGonagall says sharply, but I cut in: "Professor, when we took the car, term hadn't started, so - so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points taken from it, should it?" I finish.
Professor MG gives me a piercing look, but I'm sure she's almost smiling.
"I will not take any points from Gryffindor," she says, "but you will all get a detention."
It's better than I'd expected. I mean, my mum will probably be annoyed by what we've done but my dad'll laugh. Maybe he won't tell her.
Professor McGonagall raises her wand again and points it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, three silver goblets and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appears with a pop.
"You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory," she says. "I must also return to the feast."
When the door closes behind her, Ron lets out a long, low whistle.
"I thought we'd had it," he says, grabbing a sandwich.
"So did I," says Harry, taking two, and handing me one.
"Can you believe our luck, though?" says Ron thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. "Fred and George must've flown that car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw them." He swallows and takes another huge bite. "Why couldn't we get through the barrier?"
Harry shrugs. "We'll have to watch our step from now on, though," he says, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "Wish we could've gone up to the feast ..."
"She didn't want us showing off," says Ron sagely. "Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car."
Harry turns to me. "And what was that about going back to Muggle school."
I shrug and grab five sandwiches. "I've had that speech learnt since I was seven. I would say it to my dad every time I wanted a day off school. He'd let me just to shut me up."
When we've eaten as many sandwiches as we can (the plate keeps refilling itself) we rise and leave the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle is quiet; it seems that the feast is over. We walk past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armour, and climb narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last we reach the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower is hidden, behind a painting of the fat lady.
"Password?" she says, as we approach.
"Er -" I say.
We stand there and look at each other but help comes almost at once; we hear hurrying feet behind us and turn to see Hermione, May and El dashing towards us. Well, Hermione is dashing, the other two are lazy so are walking.
MAH FRIENDS!
"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumours - someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car."
"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assures her.
"You're not telling me you did fly here?" says Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.
"Skip the lecture," says Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password."
"It's 'wattlebird'," says Hermione impatiently, "but that's not the point -"
Her words are cut off by me hugging her, then I hug the other two as well.
"How you guys doing?" I ask, grinning, slinging my arm around Maya's shoulders.
"Good, the feast was bor-"
Her words are cut short as the portrait of the fat lady swings open and there is a sudden storm of clapping. It looks as though the whole Gryffindor house is still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lop-sided tables and squishy armchairs, waiting for us to arrive. Arms reach through the portrait hole to pull Harry, Ron and I inside; leaving Hermione, May and El to scramble in after us.
"Brilliant!" yells Lee Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years!"
Fred and George push their way to the front of the crowd and say together, " Why couldn't you've called us back, eh?"
George puts his arms around my shoulders and whispers, "You alright?"
"Yeah," I whisper back, "only got a detention, nothing new."
George looks like he's about to say something when I'm pulled away by Maya.
"TIME FOR BED!" she yells and pulls me up the stairs, to our room, where Hermione and El are waiting.
"Tell us everything!" El demands.
I retell the story as we get ready for bed.
"That's awesome!" El laughs but stops when Hermione glares at her. "I mean, shame on you!" She tries to keep a straight face but bursts into laughter and soon we're all laughing.
Yeah, it's good to be home!