The Potter Twins and the Prisoner of Askaban {3}

11. Infiltration of the Castle

"Fighting on my own in a war that's already been won" ~ Part II, Paramore

In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts has become most people's favourite class. Draco and his gang of Slytherins are the only people who have anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.

The lessons following the Boggart have been just as interesting; we've studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurk wherever there has been bloodshed. And then we moved into Kappas, creepy little water creatures that look like scaly mon
keys.

I just wish that all of our classes are as fun. As always, Potions is the worst, especially since Snape's been in a particularly vindictive mood recently, and everyone knows why.

The story of the Boggart assuming Snape's place, and that Neville has dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, has travelled through the school like wildfire. And Snape doesn't seem to find it funny. His eyes flash menacingly at the very mention of Lupin's name, and he's been bullying Neville worse than ever.

I'm also beginning to dread the hours I have to spend in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lop-sided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Trelawney's enormous eyes full with tears every time she looks at Harry and I.

But there are those in our class that her with the upmost respect. Lavender and Parvati have taken to haunting Trelawney's tower room at lunchtimes, and always return with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they know something we don't.

They've also started using hushed voices whenever they talk to Harry and I, as though we're both on our deathbeds. This, of course, has lead to me going off at them on several occasions.

And, as sad as it is, none of us really enjoy Care of Magical Creatures anymore. After the action-packed first lesson, the class has become admittedly dull. Hagrid seems to have lost his confidence. We've spend the last several lessons learning to look after Flobberworms, which are the most boring creatures in existence.

But on a brighter note, I've had no more panic attacks since that day with the Boggarts, not even any 'warning signs', a I like to call them. Being with my friends seems to have made me almost forget about it.

I've also been spending a lot more time with Draco, as well (in secret, of course, as I don't want Tay to attack me) and he is surprisingly one of the best as keeping my mind off of bad things. The hassle of meeting up in secret is worth it, because we always end up laughing until we cry.

Another thing that has definitely made me feel better is the upcoming Quidditch season. Oliver has called a team meeting.

It's his last year at Hogwarts, and we're yet to win the Quidditch final. You can't mistake the tone of desperation in his voice when we all meet up in the chilly change rooms.

"This is our last chance - my last chance - to win the Quidditch Cup," he tells us, striding up and down in front of us. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it. Gryffindor haven't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year..." Oliver swallows, as though the memory still brings a lump to his throat.

"But we also know we've got the best - ruddy - team - in - the -school," he says, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye.

"We've got three superb Chasers."

He points to Katie, Tay and I, and we nod our heads, exchanging a proud stare.

"We've got to unbeatable Beaters."

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," Fred and George say together, pretending to blush.