Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. 2)

Extra, Extra! (Read All About It) (James Potter)

Welcome back to another very overdue story ~

Life has been incredibly hectic at the moment, but when isn't it? And it's likely to continue to be hectic for a long time ...

For some reason, maybe because I'm a glutton for stress, I'm set to go back to University (yet again), but this time for my doctorate. It's something I've been working towards since I was 18 (so way too many years ago), but I'm incredibly proud of myself for even getting onto the doctoral training programme! So life will be incredibly stressful for the next 3 years and writing might become a form of stress relief - the way it does every time I'm back at uni. 

Still, I hope you enjoy the story which was requested by mugglenugget like a decade ago.

As always, let me know your thoughts! (Please ignore any mistakes)

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The head of my house, who seemed to know each of his eagles well enough to hold conversations with them about their interests, somehow never knew when to stop talking in his lectures. Of course, Professor Flitwick always said important things but sometimes, when you were sitting in his N.E.W.T level classes, it was difficult not to become overwhelmed with the knowledge that was always being imparted. Maybe that was why my brain was so prone to wondering during each Charms class?

Despite my best efforts, my concentration would always shift onto far more gripping topics until the end of the lesson drew my thoughts back to what I should have been doing, and I was left staring at my blank page which should have been filled with notes. Righteous Rowena, I could only imagine the look on Professor Flitwick's face when one of his own performed poorly on their N.E.W.T level Charms exam.

Picturing the expression on his face should have been enough to force me to focus - well, that and the impending anxiety about needing good grades if I wanted to do something worthwhile with my life - but it wasn't. My brain was spiralling, as it often did when I gave it even the slightest opportunity to, fliting to far more appealing thoughts of unwritten stories, of potential article subjects and taglines. Not that it was any less important; no, I knew all too well that all I needed - all it would take really - was one good gripping story that was carefully crafted into an article and I could justify the need for a school paper.

And because it had to be good, something of such high calibre that it demonstrated just why we needed to have a newspaper - that I would run, naturally - that my brain flicked through various story ideas, trying to hone onto the best one. It would have to be something that appealed to the students - not just to the teachers (or perhaps even something that the teachers wouldn't be too pleased with?) - something to do with the school to get my peers interested in reading it and -

Forbidden Forest

I scribbled the words down hurriedly on the corner of my parchment. Circling it a few times, I stared contemplatively down at the innocuous words; as of now, they didn't mean much. And yet, my mind ground to a halt on a single train of thought - something it so rarely did - but still; just what was it about the forbidden forest that made it so forbidden?

As the lesson drew to a close, I was forcefully drawn from my thoughts by the sound of the chairs scraping against the floor. Rising from my seat, I hurriedly started to gather my belongings and made a mental note to ask my dormmates if I could borrow their notes from the lesson. I took the time to check that the lid on my ink well was on tight - something I religiously did after an absolutely disastrous accident in my first year that involved our now infamous Head Boy - before securely tucking it away in my bag.