The Other Potter. Book Four.

Because being normal is so unoriginal.

I like cupcakes.

DAMNIT NOW I WANT CUPCAKES!

DAMNIT NOW I DON’T REMEMBER WHAT’S GOING ON!

“I don’t believe it!” Ron said, in a stunned voice. “Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!” 

Oh that’s what’s going on....

Now I’m annoyed.

SPLIT PERSONALITY!

Don’t punch Ron. Don’t do it Willow. Don’t. Stop it. Don’t punch him.

“For heaven’s sake, Ron, he’s only a Quidditch player,” said Hermione. 

“Only a Quidditch player?” Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn’t believe his ears. “Hermione - he’s one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!” 

“Well I bet llamas wouldn’t have his babies anyway.” I said ending the slowly brewed argument.

As we recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, I saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum’s head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked –

“Oh I don’t believe it; I haven’t got a single quill on me -”  

“D’you think he’d sign my hat in lipstick?”

“Really,” Hermione said disdainfully as we passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick. 

“I’m getting his autograph if I can,” said Ron. “You haven’t got a quill, have you, Harry?” 

“Nope, they’re upstairs in my bag,” said Harry. 

“Willow?” Ron looked at me pleadingly, but I shook my head.

We walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit.

The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads. 

“It’s not that cold,” said Hermione defensively. “Why didn’t they bring cloaks?” 

“Cause they’re French.” I said

“And that means?”

“It’s their nationality, there is nothing else to it- GOD HERMIONE YOU’RE SO RACIST!” I shouted.

Hermione thumped her head into the table and tried to hide from the world.

“Honestly Willow, do you need to be so embarrassing and stupid?” Harry sighed.

“It’s in genetics, I got the embarrassing part and you got-“I smiled as I spoke.

“Call me stupid, and I will kill you.” Said Harry shortly.

“I wasn’t going to say stupid, I was going to say retarded.”

“Over here! Come and sit over here!” Ron said, clearly not listening to a word we were saying,  as Harry opened his mouth to speak. “Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -” 

“What?” 

“Too late,” said Ron bitterly. 

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. I could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this.