Harry Potter Short Stories

10 minutes and a week of hell

"Mr. Potter, it would take a week!" Hooch shouted to the teen.

"You don't have a week, you have a day!" Harry Potter shouted to her before leaving Flitwick's Office, slamming the door.

"Minerva, it cannot be done!" The flight instructor told the head of Gryffindor once more.

Minerva McGonagall sighed, wondering how they would fix the situation. She looked at the headmaster who was wondering the same.

"Can you do anything?" Albus asked Hooch and Flitwick, who shook the head in answer.

"Albus, some of the charms needed, require three days and before them, you have to add other several charms that need two days. Even if we work at our fastest and skip some charms, we would need five days." The tiny professor informed him.

"And the match is in three," Minerva said with a heavy sigh, knowing that they had no chance now. Then he addressed her colleagues: "We'll have to inform Hufflepuff and Slytherin that their match is this week."

"My team is not ready to play!" Severus shouted to her.

"Not my problem, Severus. You are the responsible for this situation, so shut up!" Minerva shouted to the potions master angrily before she left to find her student.

"I'll inform Pomona and her students," Hooch announced before she left the office.

… … … …

"Mr. Potter!" Minerva shouted to Harry as he walked to the Tower.

"Ten minutes! You told me that I had ten bloody fucking minutes to prove my claim! Ten minutes!" Harry shouted to her face, in complete fury.

"I know what I said," Minerva sighed again.

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU WAIT?" Harry shouted to her.

"Mr. Potter…" The professor said, as she tried to calm him down, but he cut her down.

"You are my fucking head of house! You are supposed to support me!" Harry said with venom in his voice, before he added, "You have 24 hours to hand it back or I swear to God that you'll regret having heard my name!"

"It takes a week!" Minerva said, trying to plead him.

"If you couldn't wait ten fucking minutes, why should I wait a week for something that I bought?" Harry asked with sarcasm before he entered the tower with the professor on his tracks.

"Mr. Potter, be rational," Minerva asked once more.

"I'M BEING BLOODY FUCKING RATIONAL! THAT'S WHY I GAVE YOU A DAY!" Harry shouted to her and catching the attention of all the students, who had never seen or heard to someone shouting to their head of house like that.

"It's not that simple," Minerva said trying to make him understand the reasons.

"Not my problem," Harry said crossing his arms.

"This takes a week. It cannot be done in 24 hours," The Professor said once more.

"Simple equation, Professor: the match is in three days, I need two days to train myself with the broom and you have one to hand it back. The number seven doesn't fit on it," the student said with a smile.

"Gryffindor won't be playing this weekend," Minerva told him and the rest of the House.

"And why not?" Oliver Wood asked confused.

"Because, Oliver, Professor McGonagall confiscated the Firebolt that I bought for Christmas and dismantled it! So your seeker has no fucking broom to play!" Harry shouted to his Captain.