Forbidden Love: (a Harry Potter love story.)

Chapter 6) Puking Slugs. Ewww.

Much to my amusement, Harry had spent a lot of time over the next few weeks dodging out of sight whenever he saw Lockhart coming down a corridor. Harder to avoid, however, was Colin Creevey, who seemed to have memorised Harry's schedule and seemed to get a great thrill saying "All right Harry?" Around six or seven times a day and hear "Hello Colin." back, no matter how exasperated and annoyed it sounded.

Hedwig was still mightily miffed at harry about that disastrous journey and Nutella seemed to want to bash me around the head with her wing whenever she saw me. Ron's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday when it shot out of Ron's hand in Charms and hit Flitwick straight in the face, creating a nasty looking green boil where it had struck him between the eyes.

Another good thing, I suppose, was that I had finally found time to write in that old diary I found. It was an interesting experience to say the least, as I quickly found that it wrote back to you whenever you put ink on the page. That was all I had been doing over the past week or so, which was starting to worry the others as I was looking more pale and sickly every day. I don't know why, of course, I felt perfectly fine. Ish.

So, with one thing and other, I had never been more happy to reach the weekend. We were planning to see Hagrid this weekend, but Harry and I were shaken awake several hours earlier than we would have liked by non other than Angelina and Wood. "What?" I growled, sitting up slowly and glaring at her. I squinted at the window, growling at the thin mist hanging across the pink and gold sky. How the hell did I sleep through all the racket the birds were making?

I slowly turned my head to glare at her, narrowing my eyes. "It's the crack of dawn." I hissed, but despite my efforts, she still seemed unfazed by my displeasure. "Exactly. It's part of Wood's new training programme. Come on, get dressed, grab your broom, and let's go." She yawned heartily, bounding out of the room and making me sigh.

I grabbed my Quidditch clothes from my trunk, making a mental reminder to buy myself new ones. It wasn't that I had outgrown them, in fact, I don't even think I grew at all more than a few inches over the summer, it was the fact that I had filled out a little more in the womanly department and these robes were looking a little tight.

I ran a brush through my hair, leaving it down and pin straight, washing my face before grabbing my Nimbus 2000 and walking down the stairs. "Morning Silvia." Harry smiled, yawning, doing a double take when his eyes landed on my Quidditch robes. I rolled my eyes, crossing the room and wrapping him in a tight hug.

Don't judge. When I'm tired, I hug people. "Tired?" Harry chuckled, rubbing my back gently. I yawned cutely, nodding my head. "Lets go Harry, Silvia!" Wood called, making me groan and bury my head further into Harry's chest.

We had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind us and Colin Creevey came dashing down the stairs, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something small clutched in his hand. "I heard someone say your name on the stairs, Harry! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you-"

I peered over Harry's shoulder to see the photograph Colin was shoving in Harry's face. A moving, black and white Lockhart was tugging hard on an arm I recognised as Harry's. Harry himself looked awfully pleased to see that the photographic him was putting up a good fight and refused to be pulled into sight.

"Will you sign it?" Colin asked eagerly. "No." Harry said flatly, faltering a little when I lightly slapped his chest. He was a kid, and you always had to be nice to the kids. Everyone knows that. Except for Malfoy, it would seem. "Sorry, Colin, we're in a hurry. Quidditch practice." Harry explained, looking down at me quickly.