BLACK {1} harry potter

Chapter Eleven

Between Quidditch practices three times a week and my weekly lessons with Professor Dumbledore, I was kept extremely busy. Thankfully, Harry was in a similar boat. If felt as if no time had passed, and yet, two months had gone by.

The trio of Harry, Ron, and I had gotten into a good routine that consisted of three very large meals a day and no more class tardiness. Hermione was my go-to accountability partner when it came to homework. Everything felt normal, even as we learned about transforming matches into needles in our free times. 

It was funny to think that I already thought of Hogwarts as more of a home than Privet Drive; The friendships I'd made made me feel like I was right where I was meant to be. And the food was delicious.

On Halloween morning, the halls were filled with the scent of pumpkin spice. Small hints of decorations were fastened throughout the hallways--including an ironic ghost decoration hanging outside of Professor Binns's office--and the feeling of the cozy fall weather lingered in all of the classrooms.

I had never been much of a fan of scary movies or haunted houses, unless Harry was there to cover my eyes, but Halloween in a place like Hogwarts was too magnificent to go unnoticed.

In Charms, Professor Flitwick announced that he thought we were ready to start making objects fly. He proceeded to put us all into pairs; Harry and I partnered up, and Ron was left working with 'Mione. Though Ron didn't seem too pleased, it was better than Neville as an alternative. He'd been eyeing the three of us up when Flitwick announced the lesson; Seamus Finnigan was now stuck with him, instead. 

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing all week!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, who was standing, as usual, on top of an enormous pile of books that seemed a tad unstable. He demonstrated the motions as he said, "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words correctly is vitally important as well!"

Harry and I practiced the phrase as we'd been instructed, but the feathers laying on the top of the desks did not move an inch. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded his feaher with his wand and set fire to it--I could see Neville trying to put the fire out with his hat.

Ron and Hermione were bickering from the next table about the correct pronunciation of the spell. "You're saying it wrong," Hermione snapped. "It's Wing-gar-diumLevi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." 

He folded his arms stubbornly. "You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled. Giggling, I shook my head.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I said, swishing and flicking my wand towards the owl feather. My eyes widened when the feather started to float inch my inch, eventually rising above our heads.

"Well done, Miss Black, Miss Granger," exclaimed the professor.

I glanced to Hermione. Her feather was catching up to mine quickly. I gave her a proud smile before looking over to Ron, who didn't seem to be in much of a happy mood.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," muttered Ron as we pushed our way through the corriders when class let out. "She's a nightmare, honestly!"

"She is not! 'Mione is a good friend; she's just trying to help you, Ron. You should try to be more appreciative."

Someone knocked into Harry. and a mass of bushy hair ran past that I instantly recognized as Hermione. I didn't have to catch a glimpse of her face to know that she was running past us in tears.