Midnight In the Garden of A Thousand Sighs.
A remarkably pleasant day. The sixth-year Gryffindor and Slytherin worked with Billywigs, and though sternly cautioned not to allow themselves to be stung one or two managed it anyway, and it wasn't long before half the Gryffindor class were floating around the room, laughing their fool heads off, while the land-locked Slytherin tried to grab at their shoes to chuck them out the windows.
I suppose any other teacher might have looked upon the situation with some disdain, but honestly, it was brilliant fun. The resulting billywig essays were also very accurate, so I'm guessing they learnt something, as well. Always a plus, that.
It being Friday, once classes were over for the day Charlie invited me along as he took Ginny and Ron up to Portree to see the Cannons take on the Prides. Ron was a bit upset that Harry couldn't come along, but seemed cheerful after Charlie suggested that perhaps over the summer hols they could take in another match all together. He was also too excited at seeing his beloved Cannons to stay cross for very long.
We traveled by Floo Powder from Hogwarts to The Dodgy Bludger in Portree, where Clan Weasley enjoyed a pre-match Butterbeer while I attempted to get what felt like an entire chimney's worth of soot out of my eye. Then it was off to the stadium, and on the way in we stopped at a vendor's stand so that Ron could pick up a souvenir for Harry, and Ginny something for I believe that Ravenclaw seventh-year, Cho Chang. They've become quite good friends, as I understand.
As we waited for the teams to emerge and the match to begin Charlie's ulterior motives became apparent when he rounded on Ron and demanded to know what was going on with him, lashing out at people - Hermione, Draco Malfoy and the whole of Hufflepuff house - and generally being in a very poor humor. Ron, of course, became defensive and Ginny looked rather upset, so I interrupted with some gentle teasing about his many admirers, including a certain Ravenclaw who was quite taken with Ron's Quidditch skills.
Ron nearly passed out and Ginny started laughing hysterically, while poor Charlie looked absolutely befuddled. He asked who this girl was, and why it was so funny to Ginny. I explained that the person was, in fact, a boy.
"Oh," said Charlie.
Fortunately for Ron the teams took to the air at that moment and all conversation was made impossible by the deafening roar of the crowd. Ron seemed to forget his angst instantly and leapt to his feet, cheering on the Cannons as they streaked on past us like seven orange comets. Ginny and I decided to take up the opposition, and we made a good deal of racket in favor of the Prides as they zoomed overhead and took up their positions.
During a lull Charlie asked if I wanted to make things interesting, and so I put ten Galleons on the Prides. Ginny groaned, took out her purse and added ten Sickles to the wager. Ron coughed up the same, and Charlie and I shook on it.
I have to say, the Cannons do put up a tremendous fight. And they give a good show, as well. I've never seen so many spectacular falls, mid-air collisions and misfired Bludgers in all my years. The Prides, however, were the stronger team and their Keeper, McCormack, an excellent player. When the Snitch was caught the score was 180-20, the Prides coming away victorious.
After giving Ginny her share of our winnings (Ron and Charlie muttering very unkind things all the while) I took us all back to Margin Alley in central Portree for dinner at the Surly Snidget, and then it was time to Floo back to Hogwarts. I'll never get the ash out of my ears.
We saw a very sleepy Ginny and Ron back to Gryffindor Tower but when it came time to go through The Fat Lady's portrait Charlie balked, claiming he wanted to go for a bit of a stroll first. He asked if I would mind joining him and, being the nocturnal creature that I am I accepted, and we bade the children goodnight and set off down the corridor toward the Hospital Wing.
Charlie didn't seem to have a particular route in mind, and so we wandered, up the East Staircase and down the North Passage, where we found scotchtartan on her nightly patrol. She politely quirked her tail at us before scurrying off, perhaps to frighten some unsuspecting students out of the Astronomy Tower, and we continued on through the Great Hall and out into the garden.
As we walked among the enchanted topiaries (painstakingly maintained by Professor Sprout) we chatted about various things. Charlie told about the first Quidditch match he'd ever gone to, how difficult it was to maintain loyalty to the Cannons when they were so utterly wretched, and how much he loved Romania but missed his family. He asked after mine, and I regaled him with stories about my loveable, yet slightly deranged grandmother. If Neville Longbottom thinks his Gran is a character, he has never met the Lady Dagmar Wryde. Charlie was, to say the least, in stitches by the time we wandered back into the castle.
When we came to the doors to my rooms, Charlie fidgeted and developed an unnatural interest in cracks in the stone floor, as if he wanted to say something. I myself had perhaps a thousand things I could have said, but didn't. In the end we settled for a rather subdued 'goodnight' and I went inside.
With the door shut firmly behind me the words I should have said came tumbling out unchecked, frightening the daylights out of an unfortunate house-elf that was stoking the fire. The string of obscenities that followed sent the poor creature scurrying from the room.
I am a bloody idiot.
Sirius was right.
Sod it.
Maybe I can still catch him in the hall.
If I run.
Edit [10:21am]: As tonight is the full moon I would appreciate it if the North Tower and the corridors outside my rooms were to remain off-limits to both students and faculty from now until Sunday, as I would like to catch up on my sleep.
I'll see you all again Monday morning.
(Not one bloody word, Sirius.)
I suppose any other teacher might have looked upon the situation with some disdain, but honestly, it was brilliant fun. The resulting billywig essays were also very accurate, so I'm guessing they learnt something, as well. Always a plus, that.
It being Friday, once classes were over for the day Charlie invited me along as he took Ginny and Ron up to Portree to see the Cannons take on the Prides. Ron was a bit upset that Harry couldn't come along, but seemed cheerful after Charlie suggested that perhaps over the summer hols they could take in another match all together. He was also too excited at seeing his beloved Cannons to stay cross for very long.
We traveled by Floo Powder from Hogwarts to The Dodgy Bludger in Portree, where Clan Weasley enjoyed a pre-match Butterbeer while I attempted to get what felt like an entire chimney's worth of soot out of my eye. Then it was off to the stadium, and on the way in we stopped at a vendor's stand so that Ron could pick up a souvenir for Harry, and Ginny something for I believe that Ravenclaw seventh-year, Cho Chang. They've become quite good friends, as I understand.
As we waited for the teams to emerge and the match to begin Charlie's ulterior motives became apparent when he rounded on Ron and demanded to know what was going on with him, lashing out at people - Hermione, Draco Malfoy and the whole of Hufflepuff house - and generally being in a very poor humor. Ron, of course, became defensive and Ginny looked rather upset, so I interrupted with some gentle teasing about his many admirers, including a certain Ravenclaw who was quite taken with Ron's Quidditch skills.
Ron nearly passed out and Ginny started laughing hysterically, while poor Charlie looked absolutely befuddled. He asked who this girl was, and why it was so funny to Ginny. I explained that the person was, in fact, a boy.
"Oh," said Charlie.
Fortunately for Ron the teams took to the air at that moment and all conversation was made impossible by the deafening roar of the crowd. Ron seemed to forget his angst instantly and leapt to his feet, cheering on the Cannons as they streaked on past us like seven orange comets. Ginny and I decided to take up the opposition, and we made a good deal of racket in favor of the Prides as they zoomed overhead and took up their positions.
During a lull Charlie asked if I wanted to make things interesting, and so I put ten Galleons on the Prides. Ginny groaned, took out her purse and added ten Sickles to the wager. Ron coughed up the same, and Charlie and I shook on it.
I have to say, the Cannons do put up a tremendous fight. And they give a good show, as well. I've never seen so many spectacular falls, mid-air collisions and misfired Bludgers in all my years. The Prides, however, were the stronger team and their Keeper, McCormack, an excellent player. When the Snitch was caught the score was 180-20, the Prides coming away victorious.
After giving Ginny her share of our winnings (Ron and Charlie muttering very unkind things all the while) I took us all back to Margin Alley in central Portree for dinner at the Surly Snidget, and then it was time to Floo back to Hogwarts. I'll never get the ash out of my ears.
We saw a very sleepy Ginny and Ron back to Gryffindor Tower but when it came time to go through The Fat Lady's portrait Charlie balked, claiming he wanted to go for a bit of a stroll first. He asked if I would mind joining him and, being the nocturnal creature that I am I accepted, and we bade the children goodnight and set off down the corridor toward the Hospital Wing.
Charlie didn't seem to have a particular route in mind, and so we wandered, up the East Staircase and down the North Passage, where we found scotchtartan on her nightly patrol. She politely quirked her tail at us before scurrying off, perhaps to frighten some unsuspecting students out of the Astronomy Tower, and we continued on through the Great Hall and out into the garden.
As we walked among the enchanted topiaries (painstakingly maintained by Professor Sprout) we chatted about various things. Charlie told about the first Quidditch match he'd ever gone to, how difficult it was to maintain loyalty to the Cannons when they were so utterly wretched, and how much he loved Romania but missed his family. He asked after mine, and I regaled him with stories about my loveable, yet slightly deranged grandmother. If Neville Longbottom thinks his Gran is a character, he has never met the Lady Dagmar Wryde. Charlie was, to say the least, in stitches by the time we wandered back into the castle.
When we came to the doors to my rooms, Charlie fidgeted and developed an unnatural interest in cracks in the stone floor, as if he wanted to say something. I myself had perhaps a thousand things I could have said, but didn't. In the end we settled for a rather subdued 'goodnight' and I went inside.
With the door shut firmly behind me the words I should have said came tumbling out unchecked, frightening the daylights out of an unfortunate house-elf that was stoking the fire. The string of obscenities that followed sent the poor creature scurrying from the room.
I am a bloody idiot.
Sirius was right.
Sod it.
Maybe I can still catch him in the hall.
If I run.
Edit [10:21am]: As tonight is the full moon I would appreciate it if the North Tower and the corridors outside my rooms were to remain off-limits to both students and faculty from now until Sunday, as I would like to catch up on my sleep.
I'll see you all again Monday morning.
(Not one bloody word, Sirius.)