What to Do with the Wotters

The Story of the Kitchen Resistance

Chapter 11: The Story of the Kitchen Resistance

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Every untrusting eye in the room stared at either my brother or me. I stood before all of them just as guilty as they thought I was. My Father did horrible things, my Grandfather did even worse. I don't even deserve to be here, my father should have been locked up.

I grip James' hand tight and he holds it back, my small fingers locking with his large ones. Amidst the stares, I drag him over to my brother and Rose.

The room is whispering softly around us, and their eyes burn holes in my back as I walk across the room.

"We need to talk," I state firmly, my eyes cutting over to a group of fourth years, blatantly talking about us.

They nod and I take James' arm and start pulling him in the direction of our dorms. He stops mid step and bends down to whisper in my ear, "One sec, I have a better idea."

He leaps over to the couch and says something inaudible to our friends. He comes back over to Rose, Scorp, and I as the people on the couch disperse out of the room. Dom goes upstairs and Fred and Elliott walk right out of the common room and through the portrait.

James takes my hand once more as I look up at him in confusion, "What's going-" I start but am cut off.

"Just trust me." He replies now leading the four of us out of the common room, weaving us in and out of our judging classmates.

I trust him.

The brief time this year James was mad at me brought me to an understanding about just how much he means to me. I felt miserable without his company, without his smart ass remarks, and his glowing brown eyes. I have absolutely no clue what my life was like without him. I feel like it was dull, but honestly.. I've been so focused on my present, I forgot to think about my past. Amidst all the bad, I think that's a good thing.

James' hand tightly grips mine as he pulls me through the portrait and leads us to.. Well wherever he is leading us. The castle seems unusually silent around me as I mindlessly step down stairs. The Portraits seem oddly still and the staircase that's moving below me seems strangely unmagical.

I live in a world of magic, yet we can't seem to make evil disappear. I think that goes to show that the evil can only be eradicated by those willing to be eradicated. Magic isn't always what it seems.

I finally look up from my trance and notice that we are headed down the staircase leading to the Hufflepuff basement. I've only been down this way a handful of times, but if I didn't know any better I would say we are right under the Great Hall. We empty out into a relatively large corridor, the stone floor shining slightly under the torch lighting on the walls.

On the far wall of this corridor is an interestingly placed painting of a bowl of fruit. James continues to pull me in the direction of said fruit bowl. You know what? I don't even question him anymore.

He reaches out as if to touch the painting. Nope, not as if. He is indeed touching the painting. He goes for the pear and-

And Tickles it. He tickled the pear.

I take it back, I do question him. I question him greatly.

"James Sirius Potter, I do not have the patien-", yet before I could even get onto him the pear began to SQUIRM under his fingers, AND THEN proceeded to LAUGH.

Oh dear Merlin, I think I'm going mad. The pear begins to transform into the color green, slowly morphing into a doorknob that glistens slightly under the candle light. If I had been in any other mood I would have sworn loudly. Magic never ceases to amaze me.