THE POTTER SIBLINGS : A FORBIDDEN LOVE

Hippogriff

When we entered the Great Hall for breakfast on Monday the week after we arrived at Hogwarts, the first thing we saw was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As we passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.

　　"Ignore him," said Hermione, who was right behind me. "Just ignore him, it's not worth it...."

　　"Hey, Potter!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with a face like a pug. "Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooooooo!"

　I dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to George Weasley.

The first week was just introduction. Classes begin today.

　　"New third-year course schedules," said George, passing then, over. "What's up with you, Liz?"

　　"Malfoy," said Ron, sitting down on George's other side and glaring over at the Slytherin table.

　　George looked up in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again.

　　"That little git," he said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"

　　"Nearly wet himself," said Fred, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy.

　　"I wasn't too happy myself," said George. "They're horrible things, those dementors...."

　　"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" said Fred.

　　"You didn't pass out, though, did you?" said Harry in a low voice.

　　"Forget it, Harry," said George bracingly. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been, he came back all weak and shaking.... They suck the happiness out of a place, dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."

　　"Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match," said Fred. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?"

　　The only time Malfoy and I had faced each other in a Quidditch match, Malfoy had definitely come off worse. Feeling slightly more cheerful, I helped myselfto sausages and fried tomatoes.

　　Hermione was examining her new schedule.

　　" Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," she said happily.

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　We watched in astonishment as a little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him overbalance, and he landed facedown in the grass.

　　"Are you all right?" said Harry, moving closer to the picture.

　　"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"

　　The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.

　　"Listen," I said, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"

　　"A quest!" The knight's rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"