Draco Malfoy, The Amazing Bouncing Ferret

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The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dani and I examined our new course schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

"Today's not bad… outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures… damn it, we're still with the Slytherins…"

"Well, at least Bonnie's there," Dani said. "I just seen her in the corridor, she seemed very upset."

"She and Ron had a fight," I explained.

"That explains why she was muttering about apoligizing to someone," Dani nodded.

"She wanted to apoligize?" Ron looked startled and then guilty.

"She's sitting at the Slytherin table now if you feel like talking to her," I said, pointing behind me to the thin figure at the other end of the hall.

"I'll apoligize in class." Ron muttered. "What else do we have?"

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down. Divination was our least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting me and Harry's death, which we found extremely annoying.

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah… and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning.

Hermione glared. "You now it's the truth, Hermione." I said dryly.

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, I looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap - Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach, I returned to my porridge. Was it possible that something had happened to Hedwig, and that Sirius hadn't even got Harry's letter?

My preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until we arrived in greenhouse three, but here I was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants I had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"

"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

We paired up. Ron with Harry, Hermione with Dani, and myself with - unfortunatly - Seamus Finnigan, who seemed determined to talk to me.

"Hi, Nixie," Seamus said, and I waited for butterflies to form in my stomach like they usually did, but they didn't come.

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