The Stag and the Doe

Chapter Five- All His Fault

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, even though he has not actually been born yet…Um, yeah awkwardness. You get the point. 

So vote, comment, and maybe fan please. That sounds desperate…. Thanks to all the people who actually read this far. That sounds pathetic… Ugh! Just read, it is not my day. It's monday.

Chapter Five: All His Fault

P. S this is one of the very heavy chapters seriously, dude, it's sad. Well, this is a war story so its expected. 

It was a cool autumn day, the year of 1973. (A/N this book will be constantly swithcing years. Right now, most of them are thirteen). The sun was peeking through colorless clouds and the breezy fall winds nipped at the students of Hogwarts. Most of the students lazed around, finishing unfinished homework due the next day, or played the wizard game, Exploding Snap. It such was a beautiful day. However, tension from what had just happened lied thick in the air it suffocated the students, making them all uneasy. It was still a beautiful day. If you were not Lily Evans, that is. Because Lily Evans was aggravated, shocked, scared, annoyed, confused, angry, and frankly ticked, off. The reason that being, were the two boys currently in Professor Minerva McGonagall’s office Head of Gryffindor House.

 

“So,” she began glaring down at the two troublemakers before her, “Should one of you like to explain why exactly you are here this time?” The boys exchanged glances with each other and snickered discreetly, being in trouble was alwyas funny, especially when it was at the hands of  Minerva McGonagall. They didn't know why that was exactly, but it was just so much more fun with a stern teacher staring down at you glaring. Apparently, the snicker was not made discreetly enough, because Professor McGonagall glare deepened and they quickly quieted down. The boy on the right shuffled uneasy in discomfort and winced when his bruised stomach twisted in the wrong way.

  

The boy on the left nudged the boy on the right gently, avoiding his injuries, and said, “You explain.”

The boy on the right said straightening his broken glasses, “No you should.”

“No, you.” The boy on the left argued. 

“No, you.” The boy on the right replied.

 “You should.”

“You do it.”

 "No, you do it!”

“You do it! I'm still sore from what happened earlier. My knuckles are killing me.”

 “You deserve it. You snapped quicker than a whip, it's all your fault anyways.” The boy on the left argued.

“No its not. He provoked me. He shouldn't have talked about-” the boy stopped abruptly, not wanting to finish his sentence, it hurt too much and he wasn't talking abut his cuts and bruises. "You know that git deserved what came to him."

“Well, yes but you’re the one who just had to bother  Evans. We could have had a normal day but nope. It seems that we'll never have one now will we?" The boy on the left mocked.