Lies

In Which I Can't Keep the Contents of My Stomach Down

DISCLAIMER

I OWN NOTHING EXCEPT HAYLEY AND EVERYTHING SHE SAYS AND DOES

SHE IS MINE

BUT EVERYONE ELSE BELONGS TO THE QUEEN

JKR

also legit I haven't updated in a year and my writing style has changed so much and just looking back is embarrasing but oh well

These Chapter Titles Are Getting Increasingly Long As The Story Goes On by Panic! At the Disco

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November at Hogwarts is freezing as fuck. The mountains around the school are covered in snow and the lake is frozen over. Every morning the ground is covered in frost, and you could see Hagrid  defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long, ridiculously out of style moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots that would've looked unbelievably ridiculous on anyone else.

The Quidditch season had begun. Which didn't make sense, because now is literally the worst time to start playing outside. It's so cold. I hate it.

But today SLYTHERIN GETS TO KICK GRYFFINDOR ASS ON THE QUIDDITCH FIELD!!!!1!11!1!!1!!!11

Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. (Tell that to Marcus Flint and basically the entire Slytheirn house.) But everyone knew that he was playing Seeker because at Hogwarts, 'secret' means 'everybody's business.' I honestly can't tell you how annoyed I was that Harry was getting all the glory. I mean, yes, it was good for me cause then it was easier to hide the fact that I played for Slytherin, but honestly, I wanted as much recognition as Harry. But it was kind of funny because when people weren't telling him he'd be brilliant, they were telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress.

I didn't know whether to punch them or give them a hug.

To be honest, Quidditch really isn't as great as everyone makes it out to be. It's a lot of fucking work. And on top of school work? Forget it. I would've died if I didn't have Jules and Hermione.

And Haz would've had a complete breakdown without us. Probably since he spent more time reading 'Quidditch Through the Ages' than 'Hogwarts: A History.' Harry looked terrible the morning of the Quidditch match. There were bags under his eyes, he had a greenish tint to his normally palor complexion, and he could ahrdly get a single bite of food into his system. I didn't know whether to comfort him or make him feel even worse so that Slytherin had a greater chance of winning.

I think I'm developing a split personality disorder. Am I a Slytherin, or am I a Gryffindor? Who knows? Certainly not me.

So on our way down to the pitch from the dining hall, I heard about Harry's adventures with Snape last night. Which sounded really wrong, but trust me, it was creepy as shit. (Yeah, even creepier than that sentenc eout of context.) Harry had gone into Snape's office to get back 'Quidditch Through the Ages,' and Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing," Snape said. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry tried to get the fuck out, but Snape caught him. And he was pissed as hell. He yelled at Harry, took points from Gryffindor, and Harry ran back upstairs before shit got worse.

"You know what this means, right, Hayley?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him- he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"