Xander punched his pillow into a more comfortable position. He had been trying to go to sleep for the past…what? Hour? Xander glanced up at an old clock nailed onto the wall which somehow worked. An hour and a half…he fell back onto his back when another resounding CRACK sounded from beside his bed and jolted him upright again. Clyde had found an old set of Exploding Snap in his bag and was trying to learn how to play with Coco.
“Hey, has anyone seen my Sparker?” Hurst was rummaging around in his trunk.
“Here,” Xander huffed.
Xander got up and opened his bedside cabinet, where, placed in a small glass jar, there was what looked to be a tiny spark, the kind that campfires shed. It glowed orange and resembled the shape of a very small campfire.
Xander screwed open the jar and picked up the Sparker between his fingers. It didn’t feel hot, exactly. Instead, it gave off a strange buzzing vibration and seemed to numb his fingers a little, as if he was trying to hold a fly. Xander spun in a circle and threw the Sparker in an arc towards Hurst, leaving small flame particles in its wake. Hurst caught it with a hand behind his back.
“Thanks,” he said, then promptly stuffed the Sparker into an empty tissue box and sealed the opening with SpellScotch tape.
“Couldn’t find the original shoebox I used,” muttered Hurst as he stuffed the tape roll into the depths of his school bag. It seemed like Hurst was never organized, which was probably why he lost things a lot.
Professor Sprout had walked into the common room of the student dormitories at about 7:30 in the morning and told them that it was best if they stayed in the common room or their dorms until further instruction. They could only leave with a friend or two to go find a bathroom if there were no more(the common room had three stalls hidden in a corner).
Xander watched Hurst throw his History of Magic book, an ink bottle, and some old, smelly parchment onto his bed and then struggle to find a quill before deciding that it was probably best he got something done too. He was about to start his essay on goblin rebellions when he realized something was off. He watched Clyde and Coco play Exploding Snap(a card exploded and blew a hole through the instructions manual Coco was holding), Hurst finally managed to find a geese feather quill that had bits of feather falling out and looked on the verge of snapping in half(“Need to get a new quill soon, I ‘spect,” Hurst had muttered as he dipped the tip of the quill into his ink bottle), and his eyes finally fell upon Ty Nightslash’s empty bed.
So that’s why he noticed something was off! He thought Ty a good friend, though he was usually talkative, especially in the mornings. Then the person in question burst through the dorm door, wearing the most ridiculous salmon-colored sweater with the words “I’LL BUST MINE TO KICK YOURS” stitched in black on the front. Everyone was relatively used to Ty’s ridiculous choice of clothing, but the expression Xander was not used to. Ty was usually grinning, but right now, he was red-faced and taking deep breaths.
“Guys!” he wheezed as all heads in the dorm turned to him. “I…Daily Prophet…News…problems…get here…fast as possible…,” Ty slid down the wall and sat there for about thirty seconds, in which time he appeared to regain his composure.
Then he stood up again and began telling his story.
“The teachers moved all the Slytherins from the dungeons to the common room too. They thought just in case. Anyway,” he began, “I saw Snyco laughing with his friends at something in the Daily Prophet on my way to the bathroom, so I snuck a bit closer and saw you in a picture, trapped in a big green tentacle.” He paused a little for dramatic effect, then continued. “So I used that Smoke-Bomb Charm Flitwick taught us a week ago, then hit Snyco with a Wrist-Swelling Hex and snagged his prophet.”
Ty chucked the newspaper at Xander, who caught it. He dropped onto the floor and everyone crowded around him to read it.
The headline screamed:
INCIDENT AT HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY CAUSES RAISED EYEBROWS
Just yesterday, students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry broke into the school greenhouse and stole several non-magical plants known as Venus Flytraps. The students decided to enlarge the Venus Flytraps massively so that the Flytraps attacked and injured many students. There is no question about the school’s medical facilities, however. Despite the school’s insistence that all injured students will make a full recovery, the incident has raised eyebrows about the school’s student discipline and security.
“My brother nearly had his arm bitten off!” said Charlie, who was in her third year at Hogwarts. “And one tentacle nearly broke my skull!”
The Ministry of Magic has-
Without another word, Xander folded up the paper and slammed it onto the floor.
“What’s this garbage?” Xander asked, nudging the paper away from him.
“Well…” said Ty quietly, “There’s been talk in the Ministry of closing down the school…”
“WHAT?” hollered everyone except Ty at once.
“But that’s not the main thing I was going to say. I overheard the teachers saying that some of the Dark Lord’s old followers, y’know, the Death Eater’s offspring, might’ve rallied under Melinda Quarker and that they might be starting with getting the school outta their way because otherwise, people would disagree with their actions.”
“You can find her on page 15,” he added hastily.
Xander flipped there and skimmed through the page, his eyes catching words like “Quarker,” “Gringotts robbery,” and “funding for anti-Muggle hate programs.” Eventually, he got the gist of it.
“So the Death Eaters have rallied under Melinda Quarker now? She’s some Muggle Lover or something? And why would the Death Eaters go crawling to her now? Last time I checked, they hated Muggles.”
Ty shook his head. “You don’t understand. Quarker is a relentless woman who will do anything to stamp out most of the purebloods and half-bloods. She’s tired of Muggle-hating being passed out through generations. And she will crush anyone who gets in her way, even Muggles. As for the Death-Eaters, well, they don’t love Muggles. It’s the evil-doing they thirst for. It’s in their blood.”
Suddenly the door to the dormitory shook. Cracks appeared in the wall around it.
“Um…” said Hurst, glancing at the door and taking out his wand. Everyone else did the same.
BANG BANG BANG. The door looked ready to split in half.
“Hey,” Xander muttered to Clyde. “You still got your aunt’s notebook?”
Clyde’s aunt had given him a small notebook in his first year, containing all kinds of hexes and curses. So even though they were all second-years, they had studied up on the notebook and knew more nasty spells than an early third-year would. Everyone braced themselves as huge rips and gashes appeared in the doorway. Bits of wood soared over their heads. Somehow the doorway still stayed intact.
CRACK. BOOM! The door burst open and exploded, a piece grazing Xander’s ear. The figure raised a hand and a jet of green light soared past Clyde and smashed the old clock on the wall.
Everyone pointed their wands, and without even bothering to see who it was, they began yelling incantations and blasting the figure in the doorway with a variety of curses and spells.
“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!”
“Expelliarmus!”
“Stupefy!”
“Smokeous Temporus!”
“Densaugeo!”
When they had finished(the figure blasting lasted a while), the person in the doorway looked like a giant, slimy slug squished into black, tattered, and burnt robes. Green ooze was dripping from underneath it, and its back appeared to be erupting with steam. Leeks, long and healthy looking, were sprouting from what appeared to be its ears.
Hurst glanced at the slug. “You think we overdid it?”
Clyde waved it off. “Dude, he, or she tried to kill one of us! This is a lot more justifiable, I would think.”
They murmured agreement and leaped into the common room, where figures in black robes were blasting everybody with jets of light. Xander moved in for a clearer view, but at that precise moment, a jet of red light bounced off a wall and struck him on the chest.
“Hey, has anyone seen my Sparker?” Hurst was rummaging around in his trunk.
“Here,” Xander huffed.
Xander got up and opened his bedside cabinet, where, placed in a small glass jar, there was what looked to be a tiny spark, the kind that campfires shed. It glowed orange and resembled the shape of a very small campfire.
Xander screwed open the jar and picked up the Sparker between his fingers. It didn’t feel hot, exactly. Instead, it gave off a strange buzzing vibration and seemed to numb his fingers a little, as if he was trying to hold a fly. Xander spun in a circle and threw the Sparker in an arc towards Hurst, leaving small flame particles in its wake. Hurst caught it with a hand behind his back.
“Thanks,” he said, then promptly stuffed the Sparker into an empty tissue box and sealed the opening with SpellScotch tape.
“Couldn’t find the original shoebox I used,” muttered Hurst as he stuffed the tape roll into the depths of his school bag. It seemed like Hurst was never organized, which was probably why he lost things a lot.
Professor Sprout had walked into the common room of the student dormitories at about 7:30 in the morning and told them that it was best if they stayed in the common room or their dorms until further instruction. They could only leave with a friend or two to go find a bathroom if there were no more(the common room had three stalls hidden in a corner).
Xander watched Hurst throw his History of Magic book, an ink bottle, and some old, smelly parchment onto his bed and then struggle to find a quill before deciding that it was probably best he got something done too. He was about to start his essay on goblin rebellions when he realized something was off. He watched Clyde and Coco play Exploding Snap(a card exploded and blew a hole through the instructions manual Coco was holding), Hurst finally managed to find a geese feather quill that had bits of feather falling out and looked on the verge of snapping in half(“Need to get a new quill soon, I ‘spect,” Hurst had muttered as he dipped the tip of the quill into his ink bottle), and his eyes finally fell upon Ty Nightslash’s empty bed.
So that’s why he noticed something was off! He thought Ty a good friend, though he was usually talkative, especially in the mornings. Then the person in question burst through the dorm door, wearing the most ridiculous salmon-colored sweater with the words “I’LL BUST MINE TO KICK YOURS” stitched in black on the front. Everyone was relatively used to Ty’s ridiculous choice of clothing, but the expression Xander was not used to. Ty was usually grinning, but right now, he was red-faced and taking deep breaths.
“Guys!” he wheezed as all heads in the dorm turned to him. “I…Daily Prophet…News…problems…get here…fast as possible…,” Ty slid down the wall and sat there for about thirty seconds, in which time he appeared to regain his composure.
Then he stood up again and began telling his story.
“The teachers moved all the Slytherins from the dungeons to the common room too. They thought just in case. Anyway,” he began, “I saw Snyco laughing with his friends at something in the Daily Prophet on my way to the bathroom, so I snuck a bit closer and saw you in a picture, trapped in a big green tentacle.” He paused a little for dramatic effect, then continued. “So I used that Smoke-Bomb Charm Flitwick taught us a week ago, then hit Snyco with a Wrist-Swelling Hex and snagged his prophet.”
Ty chucked the newspaper at Xander, who caught it. He dropped onto the floor and everyone crowded around him to read it.
The headline screamed:
INCIDENT AT HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY CAUSES RAISED EYEBROWS
Just yesterday, students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry broke into the school greenhouse and stole several non-magical plants known as Venus Flytraps. The students decided to enlarge the Venus Flytraps massively so that the Flytraps attacked and injured many students. There is no question about the school’s medical facilities, however. Despite the school’s insistence that all injured students will make a full recovery, the incident has raised eyebrows about the school’s student discipline and security.
“My brother nearly had his arm bitten off!” said Charlie, who was in her third year at Hogwarts. “And one tentacle nearly broke my skull!”
The Ministry of Magic has-
Without another word, Xander folded up the paper and slammed it onto the floor.
“What’s this garbage?” Xander asked, nudging the paper away from him.
“Well…” said Ty quietly, “There’s been talk in the Ministry of closing down the school…”
“WHAT?” hollered everyone except Ty at once.
“But that’s not the main thing I was going to say. I overheard the teachers saying that some of the Dark Lord’s old followers, y’know, the Death Eater’s offspring, might’ve rallied under Melinda Quarker and that they might be starting with getting the school outta their way because otherwise, people would disagree with their actions.”
“You can find her on page 15,” he added hastily.
Xander flipped there and skimmed through the page, his eyes catching words like “Quarker,” “Gringotts robbery,” and “funding for anti-Muggle hate programs.” Eventually, he got the gist of it.
“So the Death Eaters have rallied under Melinda Quarker now? She’s some Muggle Lover or something? And why would the Death Eaters go crawling to her now? Last time I checked, they hated Muggles.”
Ty shook his head. “You don’t understand. Quarker is a relentless woman who will do anything to stamp out most of the purebloods and half-bloods. She’s tired of Muggle-hating being passed out through generations. And she will crush anyone who gets in her way, even Muggles. As for the Death-Eaters, well, they don’t love Muggles. It’s the evil-doing they thirst for. It’s in their blood.”
Suddenly the door to the dormitory shook. Cracks appeared in the wall around it.
“Um…” said Hurst, glancing at the door and taking out his wand. Everyone else did the same.
BANG BANG BANG. The door looked ready to split in half.
“Hey,” Xander muttered to Clyde. “You still got your aunt’s notebook?”
Clyde’s aunt had given him a small notebook in his first year, containing all kinds of hexes and curses. So even though they were all second-years, they had studied up on the notebook and knew more nasty spells than an early third-year would. Everyone braced themselves as huge rips and gashes appeared in the doorway. Bits of wood soared over their heads. Somehow the doorway still stayed intact.
CRACK. BOOM! The door burst open and exploded, a piece grazing Xander’s ear. The figure raised a hand and a jet of green light soared past Clyde and smashed the old clock on the wall.
Everyone pointed their wands, and without even bothering to see who it was, they began yelling incantations and blasting the figure in the doorway with a variety of curses and spells.
“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!”
“Expelliarmus!”
“Stupefy!”
“Smokeous Temporus!”
“Densaugeo!”
When they had finished(the figure blasting lasted a while), the person in the doorway looked like a giant, slimy slug squished into black, tattered, and burnt robes. Green ooze was dripping from underneath it, and its back appeared to be erupting with steam. Leeks, long and healthy looking, were sprouting from what appeared to be its ears.
Hurst glanced at the slug. “You think we overdid it?”
Clyde waved it off. “Dude, he, or she tried to kill one of us! This is a lot more justifiable, I would think.”
They murmured agreement and leaped into the common room, where figures in black robes were blasting everybody with jets of light. Xander moved in for a clearer view, but at that precise moment, a jet of red light bounced off a wall and struck him on the chest.
