The Girl Who Lived

Day One

"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. . . ."
"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned. People kept telling me that Proffesor Trelawney was insane, and that she kept predicting Harry's death. It's everyone seriously that insane here? Is it, like, some side-effect of being a wizard?
"You should've given it up like me," Mione told Harry.
Ron smiled. "I noticed you're eating again."
Ever since last night, Mione wouldn't eat because she was convinced that house elves are slaves.
"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand on elf rights." She told us hauntingly.
"And.. You were hungry." Ron pointed out. I laughed.
Then, a rustling house dropped above them. A hundred-maybe a thousand-owls carrying letters flew above them. No sign of Newt, though.
~*~*~
Herbology flew by quickly, then we went over to Hagrid's cabin. Of course, of all people, we had this class with Slytherin.
"Mornin'!" Hagrid greeted us.
We smiled at him.
Today, apparently, we were working with Blast-Ended Skrewts. Most of the class, Lavander Brown was squealing. I gathered she wasn't a very hands-on type of person. Malfoy kept mouthing off and complaining. The slinthead will do just about anything to get Hagrid fired.
"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malfoy sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"
"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"
An hour after that happened, we were walking our way back to The Great Hall for lunch.  Ron and Mione were arguing about Dragon's blood, or something like that. For all I know, they were arguing about me, but what do I know. I zoned out.
We all sat down at the Gryffindor table to eat. Mione started wolfing down her food.
"Er — is this the new stand on elf rights?" said Ron. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"
"No," said Mione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library."
"What?" said Ron in disbelief. "Hermione — it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"
Mione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.
"Why is she going to the library?" I ask in disbelief.
Harry sighs. "Who knows."
When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry, Ron, and I set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trap- door in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived.
And I have to tell you, I can tell she's insane already.
"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry, making him jump.
A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry with a tragic expression.
"You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas . . . most difficult . . . I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass . . . and perhaps sooner than you think. . . ."
Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who looked stonily back. Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on poufs very close to her.
How can anyone take this class seriously? That lady just told Harry he was going to die sometime soon!
~*~*~
"Harry!" Ron muttered.
I must've been lost in my thoughts, because Ron jolted me back.
"What?" Harry asked.
Harry looked around; the whole class was staring at him. He sat
up straight; he had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat and his thoughts.
"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," said Professor Trelawney, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he had obviously not been hanging on her words.
"Born under — what, sorry?" said Harry.
"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!" said Professor Trelawney, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn't riveted by this news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth. . . . Your dark hair . . . your mean stature . . . tragic losses so young in life . . . I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"
"No," said Harry, "I was born in July."
The whole class had to stifle their laughter at that.
We ended up getting a load of homework-thanks to Ron.
On our way to dinner, we ran into Malfoy.
"Weasley! Your dad's in the paper! You're famous!"
He read an article about Mr. Weasley and how he aided Mad-Eye Moody, a supposed killer, who is our DADA teacher.
"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house — if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with los- ing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"
Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.
"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron. . . ."
"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"
"Draco!" I hissed at him.
"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry — both Hermione and I had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"
Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink.
"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."
"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away. BANG!
Several people screamed — Harry felt something white-hot
graze the side of his face — he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.
"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"
Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.
There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry —at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.
"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.
"No," said Harry, "missed."
"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.
"Leave — what?" Harry said, bewildered.
"Not you — him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his
shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.
Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.
"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again — it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do. . . ."
The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.
"Never — do — that — again —" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.
"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.
Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
Harry, Ron, Mione, and I snuck out then, deciding that was a good time to leave.
All in all, I think this year at Hogwarts will be a pretty good year.

Thank you guys for 300 reads! I never even thought I'd get past 10!