Muggle Slander

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Harry received endless teasing from Y/N and Ron. Colin Creevey had memorized Harry's schedule, nothing seemed to give Colin a bigger thrill than to say, "All right, Harry?" six or seven times a day and hear, "Hello, Colin," back, however exasperated Harry sounded when he said it.

And on multiple occasions did Harry accuse Ron and Y/N of giving Colin a copy of their schedules. 

To add to the groups troubles, Ron's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Ron's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck. So with one thing and another, Y/N was quite glad to reach the weekend. He, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were planning to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning. Y/n and Harry, however, were shaken awake several hours earlier than they would have liked by Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"What could you possibly want?" Y/N asked grumpily.

"Quidditch practice!" said Wood. "Come on!"

"The sun's barely shown itself and you want us to go down there?" 

"It's part of our new training program. Come on, grab your brooms, and let's go," said Wood heartily. "None of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year —"

Y/N groaned and Harry rubbed his eyes as they reluctantly went about finding their Quidditch things.

"I want to see that new broom in action, Y/N, I know you do too." 

"Yeah, I do, but not this bloody early." Y/N mumbled. "Fine, We'll be down."

"Good men," said Wood. "Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes."

When Y/N'd found his scarlet team robes and pulled on his cloak for warmth, he turned to Harry, who was scribbling a note to Ron explaining where they'd gone and went down the spiral staircase to the common room. They had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind him and Colin Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something clutched in his hand. 

Y/N had a wide grin on his face.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harry! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you —" Harry looked bemusedly at the photograph Colin was brandishing under his nose. 

 A moving, black-and-white Lockhart was tugging hard on an arm Y/N recognized as Harry's. He was pleased to see that his photographic self was putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As they watched, Lockhart gave up and slumped, Panting, against the white edge of the picture. 

"Will you sign it?" said Colin.

"Yeah, Harry, will you, will you?" Y/N asked in with obvious fake excitement.

"No," said Harry flatly, glancing around to check that the room was really deserted. "Sorry, Colin, we're in a hurry — Quidditch practice —"

They climbed through the portrait hole.

"Oh, wow! Wait for me! I've never watched a Quidditch game before!"

Colin scrambled through the hole after him.

"It'll be really boring," Harry said quickly, but Colin ignored him, his face shining with excitement. 

"You were the youngest Seeker in a hundred years, weren't you, Harry? Weren't you?" said Colin, trotting alongside them. "You must be brilliant. I've never flown. Is it easy? Is that your own broom? Is that the best one there is?"

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