𝐀𝐈𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘┊ᴴᵃʳʳʸ ᴾᵒᵗᵗᵉʳ

42 ✥ 𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝙶𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚆𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐

࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊°

❝ Romeo, aren't you an engaged young man? Are you cheating on her with Rose? ❞

࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊°

𝕳ARRY 𝖂OKE 𝖀P 𝕰XTREMELY early the next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him.

Then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright — Peeves the Poltergeist had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear.

"What did you do that for?" said Harry furiously.

Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard, and zoomed backwards out of the room, cackling.

Harry fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four, and even Crystal, the human alarm, won't wake up this early.

Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult now that he was fully awake. It was also getting difficult to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls, and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest.

In a few hours, he would be out on the Quidditch field, battling through that gale. Finally, he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand, and walked quietly out of the dormitory.

As Harry opened the door, something brushed against his leg. He bent down just in time to grab Crookshanks by the end of his bushy tail and drag him outside.

"You know, I reckon Ron was right about you," Harry told Crookshanks suspiciously. "There are plenty of mice around this place — go and chase them. Go on," he added, nudging Crookshanks down the spiral staircase with his foot. "Leave Scabbers alone."

The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Harry knew better than to think the match would be cancelled; Quidditch matches weren't called off for trifles like thunderstorms.

Nevertheless, he was starting to feel very apprehensive. Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to him in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harry.

Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Diggory's weight would be an advantage in this weather because he was less likely to be blown off course-

"Crystal?" Harry was surprised to see Crystal laying on the couch with a file open on her stomach, one hand was hanging off the edge with some papers scattered below on the floor while the other held a fountain pen. The black ink was soaking into her nightdress. Harry tried to carefully take the pen from her hand and placed it on the table but the girl woke up startled.

She shot up so fast sitting straight that Harry's soul almost jumped out of his skin, it looked as though she had been possessed.

"Crys, are you all right?" Harry asked cautiously, taking a seat beside her. Crystal looked at him blankly then her eyes blinked in realization.

"Yeah," she mumbled, relaxing her body and rubbing her arms.

"Are you cold?" Harry said and pointed at the red blanket on the arm of an armchair, "I was going to put that blanket on you before you woke up,"

Crystal threw an uninterested, tired gaze at the blanket as Harry went to get it and placed it on her.

"Are you still half-asleep right now?" He asked sitting beside her again. Crystal shook her head in denial, massaging her temple.