by
Catherine King
“Now, Helen, I know that your twin is on the other team.”
“Yes, Mitchell is a great Keeper,” replied Helen briskly.
“But don’t let the fact that he’s your brother get in the way of doing your best,” nodded Whitney, who was a friend of Helen’s.
“I won’t,” promised Helen.
“If that’s clear, then let’s play!” said Ron, while the Sippi triplets went, “*clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap*, let’s go!”
They walked out onto the field, with the Ravenclaws on the other end. They were just about to mount their brooms when Professor Gradison came running across the pitch, waving her arms. She was screaming, “Cancel the match! Cancel the match!”
“Why, Arla, what’s going on?” asked Madam Hooch, who was refereeing. Professor Gradison stopped and gasped for breath. “Near - the greenhouses -” she was panting, “Whomping - Willow - acting- weirdly-”
Harry swallowed. The Whomping Willow was the only tree that he knew of which, if you tried to carve your initials on it, that it would carve you back.
“Shadow - in a man’s shape - feet that were just shadows making footprints -man’s voice - laughing - I don’t think that it’s safe to play the match right now -the shadow was heading for the pitch.”
Hours later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, along with Colin Creevey, Ginny Weasley, and the Gryffindor team were burning up with agony. They heard the Fat Lady (a. k. a. guard to Gryffindor common room) say, “Password?” and someone else say, “Lion paw,” and the next minute, Dean Thomas climbed in, grinning. He had gone to ask Professor Gradison about the rest of the Quidditch season.
“It’s OK,” he said. “The Final will not be called off. Thank heavens for small favors.”
“That’s what I say,” said Jordan huffily. “Personally, I think that Slytherin is celebrating at the moment, but if they announce it tomorrow, the whole House will laugh in a dreading manner.”
“We’re with you, bro,” said Lawrence.
“As our names are Charles Philip Sippi-” began Charles.
“Jordan Alex Sippi-” said Jordan.
“Lawrence Pat Sippi-”
“Helen Peleair Washington-”
“And Whitney Miguel Freso-”
“Don’t forget Ronald Jesser Weasley-”
“And Harry James Potter-”
“And as our names are Hermione Jessica Granger-”
“Neville Barson Longbottom-”
“WE’RE GONNA WIN THE QUIDDITCH CUP AND THE HOUSE CHAMPIONSHIP!” said the whole common room together. (The rest of Gryffindor said their names, too, but what’s the point?)
In the morning, Harry started on his porridge when Ron came up to him, looking desperate.
“Harry, you gotta help me. Mum found out that I got a C+ in Potions, and then she sent me a Howler yesterday. I haven’t opened it yet. What should I do?”
“First,” said Harry, “show me where the Howler is.”
Ron had just taken the Howler out of his pocket when it exploded, shouting:
“POTIONS LEVEL TOO LOW --- WHY GRADES HIGHER CAN’T YOU’RE BE --- TEST MIDDLE IN YEAR OF THE THE---”
“WHY IS IT YELLING LIKE THAT?” Hermione screamed, not nearly as loud as the Howler. “I ONLY GOT THE FIRST LINE!”
“IT’S CLOGGED UP!” screamed Neville. “IT WASN’T OPENED SOON ENOUGH, SO IT’S ALL MIXED UP!”
“WHATTA MUMBO-JUMBO!” Harry shouted to Ron.
The Howler stopped, eventually. The only sound was dirt falling from the ceiling. Then someone shouted, “That ceiling needed a good cleaning.” And the whole Hall laughed and started to talk again.
Later Harry was having a dream. Some kid was sprinting up stairs, laughing her head off. It took Harry a minute to realize that this girl was going up Gryffindor Tower. When the strange girl ran up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, still laughing, the Fat Lady decided to let her in without the password. When the girl stopped to take her breath, Harry saw that it was Arla Gradison. Arla ran to the side of the common room, where a tiny crowd of people were gathered near an armchair. It was all the people in the photograph Harry had found in the scrapbook. Lily was answering a Charms question for James, but Harry laughed in his sleep when he realized that they were also looking into each other’s eyes. When Arla joined them, Remus asked her why she was laughing so hard.
“Sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “I just want to tell you -Professor Sinarz wanted me to help collect slugs in the greenhouses, well, guess who I saw on my way out?”
“Who?” asked James, who had taken his eyes off of Lily’s.
Arla giggled. “Severus Snape, of Slytherin, kissing Anna Lark, of Hufflepuff, in the old Arithmancy classroom.”
With that Harry woke up. He thought about his dream for a moment. Then he laughed when he remembered that there was something about Snape kissing a girl named Anna Lark. Professor Snape kissing a girl! Harry went down to the common room, where his laugh wouldn’t disturb anyone. When Ron and Hermione came down, Harry had to tell them why he was laughing. And later on in the day, when Harry passed Professor Snape, Harry fought a mad desire to ask, “Have you heard from Anna, recently?” Of course, one did not ask Professor Snape a question like that unless they were committing suicide.
