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Aurora Areli
WHEN HARRY, RON, HERMIONE and I entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, the first thing we saw was Malfoy doing a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit, which caused a roar of laughter from his friends.
"Ignore him," I heard Hermione say from behind me and Harry. "Just ignore him, it's not worth it . . ."
"Hey, Potter!" Pansy Parkinson shrieked. "Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooooo!"
I scowled, and held on to the ends of my sleeves to refrain from punching the Slytherin girl in her pug face.
We dropped into seats at the Gryffindor table near Fred and George.
"New third-year timetables," George said, passing them over to us. "What's up with you, Harry?"
"Malfoy," Ron said, sitting down and glaring over at the Slytherin table.
George looked up in time to see Malfoy pretend to faint with terror again.
"That little git," he said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the Dementors were down our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"
"Nearly wet himself," Fred confirmed, with a disdainful glance at Malfoy.
"I wasn't too happy myself," George said. "They're horrible things, those Dementors . . ."
"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" Fred said.
"You didn't pass out, though, did you?" Harry said in a low voice.
"Forget it, Harry," George said bracingly. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been. He came back all weak and shaking . . . They suck the happiness out of a place, Dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."
"Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match," Fred said. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?"
That seemed to cheer Harry up. I smiled to myself as I scooped some porridge into my bowl. Beating Malfoy at Quidditch was something I was looking forward to doing again.
Meanwhile, Hermione was examining her new timetable.
"Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today?" she said happily.
"Hermione," Ron said, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, "they've messed up your timetable, look — they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."
"I'll manage," she told him. "I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."
"But look," Ron said, laughing, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And —" Ron leant closer to the timetable, disbelieving, "look — underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"
