Bones

Chapter 5

        In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.

        "Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house elf."

        But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, we studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to Kappas, creepy. water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

        Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the Boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't seem to find it funny. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.

        I was also growing quite found of Divination, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, staring into crystal balls trying to see something in. Though Professor Trelawney's was starting to seem like fraud just like Hermione had said.

        Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. We were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.

        "Why would anyone bother looking after them?" Ron said, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' throats.

        At the start of October, Harry and I still haven't gotten over of little fight. Though, I'm still not sure why it was happening in the first place. Ron kept insisting that Harry was jealous because I was worried about Malfoy but I told him that would be the most stupidest reason. But it stuck in my head, what if he was jealous?

        Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, cold and stiff to find the room buzzing excitedly.

        "What's happened?" he asked me, Ron and Hermione, who were sitting in three of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.

        "First Hogsmeade weekend," Ron said, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."

        I sighed. I had sent my form two weeks ago but I haven't gotten anything back. They'll probably send it back unsigned.

        "Excellent," Fred said, who had followed Harry through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

        Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron, his high spirits ebbing away. Hermione seemed to read his mind.

        "Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."

        "Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," Ron said. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry. You too, Esme! The next one might not be for ages --"

        "Ron!" Hermione said. "Harry's supposed to stay in school --"

        "He can't be the only third year left behind," Ron said. "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry --"