Drapple Fanfic 2

"Man, I'm starving!"

Crabbe and Goyle sat down on either side of me, rubbing their bellies. I stared at them in disbelief.

"Well, there's some food, eat. You might die of hunger."

Without waiting for any further approval, they both shoved pies and pastries of every shape and size into their mouths. I sighed. I could have done so much better than these two. Half the time they have no idea that I'm commanding them somewhere, they're thinking and talking abut food when they do at all, and they have very nearly squashed me a fair few times.

Watching those two stuff their faces wasn't helping my sore stomach, so I upped and left the Slytherin table, taking a green apple with me. Only while descending the dungeon stairs did I realize that this apple must have been the exception to the unspoken 'perfect food' rule. The skin was withered, and there was colour variation from a pale yellow to a limer green.

I took a bite regardless, because I had nothing else to eat. The flavour was sour from the first taste to the after taste. and it seemed as though it had been left too long to be eaten. Knowing that bitterness was a characteristic of Granny Smith apples, i gnored the obvious defect and took another bite.

A hot spark seared through the hand holding the apple, making me drop it. It travelled all the way through my arm, and into my chest. Heat rose into my neck and face, end my porcelain skin tinged pink, making my fever visable. My hands flew to wipe the beads of sweat from my brow. My legs weakened, I fell back into a plush armchair, trying to even out my breathing. 

Green sparks flew across the room, from the apple where it lay on the floor. It rolled with no need for force onto the unbitten side, allowing the open flesh to face the high ceilings. 

The skin rippled and peeled away, and out from it grew a figure. This figure also has withered skin, and an uneven skin tone. In a burst or smoke, both the apple and the sparks it was emitting were gone, and in its place stood an elderly lady. Glasses balanced on the tip of her nose, handbag clutched in her whitened knuckles. No sign of a wand.

I pointed mine at her, standing out of the chair. "Reveal yourself, witch! Disguises will do you no good here!"

She blinked at me, looking around. "Where am I?"

"I asked you nicely to reveal yourself, but you did not abide. I can always to it for you..."

It was then that she realized there was a wand pointed at her. "Point that stick somewhere else, young man, or I will do it for you. How dare you threaten me. How rude!"

The last word came out venomous, with an intention to burn me. I didn't back down.

"So this will be done the painful way, then?"

"What are yo-" She cut off mid sentence, looking around in fear. "Where am I?"

"Hogwarts, you old fool. Where else would you be? Show me your identification."

"What in God's name is Hogwarts? Is it that new shop in Manchester plaza?" She pulled out a card from her handbag, and threw it at me like a frizbee. I caught it, and peered at the typing on it.

Name: Gretel Smith

Age: 68

Residence: Manchester

Then it dawned on me. This woman wasn't a Squib. She wasn't a Witch, and she wasn't an Animagus. She was a Muggle.

I jumped back, falling back into the armchair. "Filthy muggle!! How did you come across this place?!"