𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡.𝐩

𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 3, 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 8: 𝓕𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓪𝓽 𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂

~ chapter eight: flight of the fat lady ~

all right guys, just a heads up: in this chapter, there's gonna be bloodshed. you heard me correctly: this is the first time harry gets away with murder in this story, and it will not be the last time. let's just get right into it.

In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.

"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house-elf."

But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblinlike creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

Y/N also got remarkably closer to the new student, Mateo. He'd come up to her one Thursday asking for help on his Charms assignment, and she'd gladly given him all the advice she could. They had started talking a lot more, and she felt compelled to consider him a friend.

Despite this, she only wished she was as happy with some of her other classes. Worst of all was Potions. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't seem to find it funny, however. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.

Y/N was also growing to dread the hours she spent in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way her enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at her and Harry. She simply couldn't like Professor Trelawney, even though she was treated with respect bordering on reverence by many students of the class. Parvati and Lavender had taken to haunting Professor Trelawney's tower room at lunchtimes, each time returning with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things the others didn't. They also had taken to using hushed voices whenever they spoke to her and Harry, as though the both of them were on their deathbeds. It was completely nonsensical.

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. They were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.

"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" said Ron after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' slimy throats.

At the start of October, however, Y/N had something else to occupy her, something so enjoyable it more then made up for her unsatisfactory classes. The Quidditch season—which had to be her favorite time of year—was quickly approaching. She recalled Mateo saying he'd try out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team on September 20th, so she was really excited to be playing against him. That was, if he got on.

But somebody had been hiding close by. . . . And he didn't like that at all.

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