The War Hammer of Hogwarts - Harry Potter

Crookshanks the Menace

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 about my godfather.

Malfoy: Look at the state of his robes.  He dresses like our old house elf.

But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed.  They probably would if they knew why, but only I was aware of his... condition.  His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first.  After Boggarts, we studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin 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 we moved on to kappas, creepy water dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.  We only wished we were as happy with some of our other classes.  Worst of all was Potions.  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 Remus' name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.  On top of that, I was also growing to dread the hours we spent in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering meaningless shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Professor Trelawney's enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at Harry.  I didn't like Professor Trelawney, even though she was treated with respect bordering on reverence by many of the class.  Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had taken to haunting Professor Trelawney's tower room at lunchtimes, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things we didn't.  They had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Harry, as though he were on his deathbed.  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 inexistence.

Ron: Why would anyone bother looking after them?

YN: No idea.  Maybe I could offer to be the next creature he teaches about.  What I'd give to pick Malfoy up and shake him...

Harry and I returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after quidditch practice, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.

Harry: What's happened?

Pieck: First Hogsmeade weekend.

She pointed at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board.

Ron: End of October.  Halloween.

Fred: Excellent!  I need to visit Zonko's.  I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets.

Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron, looking upset.  Hermione seemed to read his mind.

Hermione: Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time.  They're bound to catch Black soon, he's been sighted once already.

YN: That's not why he can't go, Hermione.  He can't go because his aunt and uncle are assholes.

Ron: But Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade.  Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry.  The next one might not be for ages-

Hermione: Ron!  Harry's supposed to stay in school-

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

Harry: Yeah, I think I will.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment Crookshanks leapt lightly onto her lap.  A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.  I pretended to gag and Pieck elbowed me.