ELIXIR: A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

Thirty Six. Seventh Year Week.

Monday at lunch, with the rest of the school officially gone, things were feeling a little stagnant in the great hall. Sean was relieved everyone was gone, but now the reality of an entire week with very limited commitments had set in. All he had left was one graduation rehearsal with the whole class and a practice session of his Head Boy speech with Professor Westwick and Jennifer Prewett, a Gryffindor and the Head Girl.

He wanted to enjoy his last week here, but it just seemed like so much time with no organized activities. Between school, quidditch, his Head Boy duties, and this year, the tournament, he'd grown used to being scheduled for every last second of his day. At several points during the year, he'd actually had to write "sleep" down in his list of to-do's in his planner so he wouldn't forget.

He picked at the last bits of food on his plate, trying to come up with a good way to spend the afternoon, hopefully outside. Evelyn had been right. It was beautiful outside. Above them, the enchanted ceiling showed a bright blue sky, decorated with puffy white clouds.

"Crap!" said Caiti, out of the blue. Sean looked up at her to find her pgymy puff - which she had been determined to bring everywhere with her, saying it was cooped up in her room too often - had just cannonballed off her shoulder and gone skidding through her mashed potatoes. She picked it up looking horrified. Sticky potatoes dropped off in large clumps, but most of it was too stuck into its blue fur to come off so easily.

"Are you actually kidding me, Edison?" she said. "That was so unnecessary."

Marlowe nearly fell off the bench for laughing and Caiti turned sharply to glare at him. "You paid for this, so you are partly responsible for his behavior. Help."

Just then, Professor Mason showed up, sliding onto the bench next to Sean. "Hey- oh. Wow. Didn't mean to interrupt a situation. What happened here?"

"Edison tried to commit suicide in my lunch," said Caiti, straight-faced.

"Ah. Luckily he was unsuccessful," said Professor Mason, pulling out his wand. He performed a quick charm to clean him up and then turned back to Sean. "Couple of the Gryffindors want to start a quidditch match in a bit, students versus Professors. Thought the two of you might want in," he said. He looked over at Marlowe.

"Yeah," said Marlowe at once. "Yeah, I'm in."

"Sure," said Sean. "Me too."

"Great. Probably around one out on the pitch. Just for fun. Gonna go see what other teachers I can rope in," he said, raising his eyebrows. He got up again and strode out of the hall.

"We're gonna smash 'em," said Marlowe, eyes gleaming.

---

Sean and the others gathered on the quidditch pitch a few minutes before one. Their opposition did not seem to have arrived yet and Sean could only guess that Professor Mason was having a difficult time rounding up enough of the faculty to make a team. Things had worked out perfectly for the seventh years who'd decided to play. No one even needed to switch positions for the game. Between Sean, Marlowe, two of Gryffindor chasers, Hufflepuff's seeker, and Slytherin's beater and chaser, the seventh years had a full team. Sean thought it was pretty cool, coming together with the people that had been their rivals. Even the Slytherins who he had a long-held grudge against, established by the fact that he was not a Slytherin.

The day was glorious. Sean was anxious to get up on his broom. He hadn't flown since the last match with everything else going on. They all sat down on the grass to wait, brooms lying across their laps or otherwise strewn behind them.

"So you're playing for the Cannons, huh?" asked one of the Gryffindors. "That's pretty cool to get drafted right away."

"Just as a reserve," said Marlowe, trying to brush off the compliment.