Harry Potter Male Reader Insert - Book 3

Chapter 6.

1

Defense Against the Dark Arts has become most people's yet favorite class, saving only Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins and Malfoy had been saying unkind things about Lupin whenever they crossed ways about the corridor or in class. But only he and the Slytherins cared about the things he was telling of. That inimical liaison was unnecessary every time it was mentioned. No matter.

The following lessons of Lupin's were taught as interesting as all previous ones. After boggarts they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblinlike 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 waterdwellers that looked like scaly monkeys with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

The story of a boggart assuming Snape's shape flew around the castle forthwith as if it were the owls singing out the story the same day it'd happened like with some spell animated. Snape didn't find it funny as the others did. He was in a worse mood than they'd ever seen him in. His mouth formed an ugly scowl every time he heard Lupin's name and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.

Harry was growing to dread the hours spent in Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Trelawney's eyes filled with salt every time she looked about toward him. He couldn't like Professor Trelawney even if many of the class treated her with respect bordering on reverence. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had taken to haunting Trelawney's tower room at lunchtimes and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces as if they were blessed with some divine knowledge. These girls had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Harry as if he were on his deathbed.

There was nothing good to Care of Magical Creatures. After the first class, it'd become very dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost confidence. Doesn't matter. They were now spending every lesson learning how to look after flobberworms. Always ennuied they were.

With the early days of October already arrived the Quidditch season began anew. Oliver Wood called a meeting one Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season. Harry attended. There were seven people on a Quidditch team. That is three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper, and a Seeker.

"This is our last chance," Oliver said, regarding them all at once. "My last chance. To win the Quidditch Cup." He paced about nervously. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it." He paused to scratch his neck. "Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. We've had the worst luck in the world. Injuries. Then the tournament got called off . . . But we also know we've got the best team in the school."

The team stared around themselves.

"We've got superb Chasers," he said, pointing at three girls. "Two unbeatable Beaters."

"Stop it, Oliver," Fred and George Weasley said at once. "You're embarrassing us."

"A Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" He looked to Harry. "And me."

"You're very good," George said and the team nodded at that.

"The point is," Wood said, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it. This year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name."

Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.

"This year is our year," Fred said.

"We'll do it," Angelina, the Chaser, said.

"Definitely," Harry said and that determined they'd started training sessions and there was hope that three evenings a week would get them to the top.