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Aurora Areli
I HAD TRIED MY hardest the next morning to avoid setting off Hermione, who I knew wasn't happy with me or the boys for arriving to school by crashing Mr Weasley's flying car. It wasn't too difficult, really. All I had to do was keep a guilty look on my face and stay silent.
I walked down to breakfast with Harry and Ron, taking a seat beside Harry while Ron sat across from us next to Hermione. She had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug and acknowledged us stiffly.
Neville, on the other hand, greeted us very cheerfully. "Post's due any minute," he said. "I think Gran's sending on a few things I forgot."
I smiled and shook my head at Neville's forgetfulness, but that smile immediately disappeared when I realized that I would probably be getting a response from Mum and Dad.
On cue, there was a rushing sound overhead that signaled the arrival of a hundred or so owls. A big, lumpy parcel bounced off Neville's head and Jupiter dropped a letter next to my plate. A second later, something large and grey fell into Hermione's jug, spraying us all with milk and feathers.
I grimaced and grabbed a napkin to wipe my face as Ron exclaimed,"Errol!" and pulled the disheveled owl out by his feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table with his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.
"Oh no —" Ron gasped.
"It's all right, he's still alive," Hermione said, prodding Errol gently with her finger.
"It's not that — it's that," Ron said miserably, pointing at the red envelope. I immediately knew what he was talking about, and scooted my chair a little farther from Errol and towards Harry, who looked at me questioningly.
I only shook my head in response.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked, turning his confused gaze onto Ron.
"She's — she's sent me a Howler," Ron said faintly.
"You'd better open it, Ron," Neville whispered timidly. "It'll be worse if you don't. My Gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and —" he visibly gulped, "it was horrible."
"What's a Howler?" Harry asked, obviously confused.
"You'll see," I answered, turning my attention to the letter, which had begun smoking at the corners.
"Open it," Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes."
"I would cover my ears if I were you," I advised Harry, as Ron shakily removed the Howler from Errol's beak and opened it.
Immediately, the sound of Mrs Weasley's shouts rang through the Great Hall, successfully silencing any other conversation.
" . . . STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE . . ."
