Window into the Past

🌙15🌙

Someone was shaking me awake and I groaned. "Oh, it's Saturday! Leave me alone."

I opened my eyes to see Angelina and Katie, the other Chasers on the Quidditch team. "We know, sorry about the early call, Wood has practice scheduled."

"Imma coming," I slurred.

The three of us went down towards the changing rooms on the Quidditch Pitch. "Looking forward to it?" Katie asked me. "Definitely, we'll win the cup," I said optimistically.

"Well, we put in good words for you," Fred smirked, yawning his head off.

Harry came into the tent, looking zombified. We exchanged smiles before Wood addressed us all.

"I have spent all summer coming up with a new training plan, especially since we have new blood on the team in the form of Joy Jones," he said.

I gave him a small salute. Wood was going into a big plan and Fred had fallen asleep, as did Angelina.

"Any questions?" he asked us after an hour. "Couldn't you have told us yesterday? When we were awake?" George suggested sarcastically.

We finally made our way onto the pitch. "Harry! Over here!"

The clicks of the camera pissed Harry off greatly. "Colin? Number one fan?" I assumed.

"Might be a Slytherin spy," Wood mumbled. My head drifted to the left to see the Slytherin team. "No, they're over there."

"Unbelievable!" Wood ranted. "FLINT!"

Marcus Flint was the captain of the Slytherin team. "The pitch is booked for us today! We have a new Chaser to train! Clear off! Now!"

"There's room for all of us and I don't believe little Jonesy needs the training," Flint retorted.

"I booked the pitch!" Wood flipped out. "Ah but I have a note from Professor Snape," Flint boasted.

Snape, of course.

"Rotten git," I grumbled under my breath. "New Seeker? Who?"

Malfoy stepped out, in his silver and green Quidditch robes. "I wonder how much he paid Flint, or rather his dearest daddy," I whispered to Harry.

"What are you saying back there, Jones?"

"Talking about you, not to you," I hissed at him. Ron and Hermione, who were by the stands, intending to watch us practice, came over to see what the commotion was.

"Look what Father gave us," Malfoy bragged. They all had the newest broom, a Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"What the bloody hell is he doing here?!" Ron exclaimed, pointing at Malfoy.

"I'm the new Seeker for Slytherin," Malfoy smirked. "Jealous of my broom, Weasley? Your brooms could be in a raffle in a museum."

"Well," Hermione folded her arms. "At least Joy didn't have to buy her way in. She got in on pure talent."

All the Gryffindor team nodded in agreement and Malfoy glowered at Hermione. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!"

Hermione didn't react, she didn't know what it meant, nor did Harry. But everyone else did.

"You son of a..." I lunged at him but Angelina restrained me as Flint was trying to stop Fred and George from pouncing on Malfoy.

A loud bang made us all jump and I looked to see Ron on the ground. Angelina let go of me so I could check on him.

"Ron! Are you alright?" Hermione asked him. When Ron opened his mouth, a slug popped out of his mouth and the two of us recoiled in disgust.

"Oh, gross!" I shuddered. Ron was hunched over, puking out slugs non stop. "Let's get him to Hagrid's," Harry suggested, heaving the poor Weasley up.

"What happened Harry?" Colin rambled as he ran over to us. Me and Harry were heaving Ron as Hermione was close behind us. "Is he ill? Can you cure him? Ooh, can you hold him still, Harry?"

"Out of the way!" I ordered.

Me and Harry dragged Ron out of the Quidditch Stadium and we headed towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Harry suddenly put Ron down behind a bush and pulled myself and Hermione behind the bush. Harry had a very good reason to do so as Lockhart was leaving Hagrid's hut.

"Good call," I whispered to him.

Harry nodded at me, to let me know the coast was clear. Hermione knocked on the door and Hagrid sighed with relief. "Thought you four were Professor Lockhart."

"Pompous git," I mumbled. "Don't get me started," Hagrid rolled his eyes. "Bragging about everything he's ever done."

"Joy thinks he's a fraud," Hermione told him. "Not the most ridiculous thing I've heard," Hagrid admitted. "So, who was Ron trying to curse then?"

Ron threw up again in the bucket. "Malfoy called Hermione something," Harry explained to him. "Was it really that bad?"

I nodded. "Malfoy called her a Mudblood."

"He did not," Hagrid went wide eyed. "I don't even know what that means," Hermione admitted.

"It means 'dirty blood,'" I explained to her. "Mudblood is a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born, with Muggle parents. The Malfoys are the kind of people who think they're better than everybody else because they're pure-bloods, which to me doesn't make a difference, Neville is pure-blood, so is Ron."

"Are you?" Hermione asked me. "No, my mother was Muggle-born, so is my aunt," I told her. "Calling someone..that is disgusting. Back in the first war, You-Know-Who killed my grandparents because they were parents to my mother and aunt, no other reason."

I actually felt physically sick once I said the word to explain to Hermione what that was. My mother was most likely killed over her blood status and my aunt gets called that all the time by those snobby arseholes.

"Only the Slytherin gits really care about that crap," I told her. "Sure look at me! No matter what species we are or what our blood status is, nothing here can stump us, there isn't spell we can't do."

Hermione smiled and hugged me tightly. "Be glad your wand backfired, Ron," Hagrid said to him. "Last thing anyone wants is Lucius Malfoy showing his face here."

Hagrid turned to Harry and gave him a look. "How come I didn't get a signed photo?"

Me and Hermione roared with laughter and Ron tried to laugh too. Harry just scowled.

"Ah I'm only teasing you," Hagrid laughed. "Lockhart is just jealous that you're more famous."

Harry was the only one who wasn't laughing. "Cheer up," I nudged him. "Could be worse."

***

"Potter! Jones! Weasley!" McGonagall stopped us in the Entrance Hall. "You will serve your detentions tonight."

"What will we be doing?" Ron asked her, hiccuping. "You and Miss Jones will be with Mr Filch, polishing the silver in the trophy room, by hand, no magic."

Me and Ron sighed in exasperation. "Mr Potter, you will help Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

Poor sod.

"Can't I help Ron and Joy?" Harry begged her. "Lockhart personally requested you. Eight o'clock, sharp, the three of you."

McGonagall walked away and the three of us sulked in the Great Hall. "We're going to be there all night!" I complained.

"I'd swap in a heartbeat," Harry pouted.

I poked my dinner with a fork. "We'll piss off Filch, that's the only thing that'll cheer us up," Ron said.

I nodded in agreement.