Julie Stone was a regular girl; she lived in an orphanage, had some friends, and every now and then would bang her head against the wall due to stress. . . . Normal!
Anyway, all her life Julie never seemed to quite fit in. She loved it, but her life...
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𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒉 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔
────── *•. ⚡︎ .•*──────
Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive, the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Hermione could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Neville jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.
"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere—while Hermione sped away from them in order not to get hit by a water balloon, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soaked—ARRGH!"
A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped—narrowly missing Neville, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks—Hermione promptly taking pictures of the "accident" and laughing her arse off. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire.
"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"
Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Neville around the neck to stop herself from falling.
"Ouch—sorry, Mr. Longbottom —"
"It's fine, Professor!" Neville gasped, massaging his throat.
"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.
"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!"
And he aimed another bomb at a group of second-years who had just arrived.
"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves—"
