ᴀ ᴅ ʀ ɪ ᴇ ɴ ɴ ᴇ [1]

13. the delicate art of pyrotechnics

chapter thirteen

THE DELICATE ART OF PYROTECHNICS

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ON HALLOWEEN MORNING, I EXPERIENCE A PECULIAR SENSATION; waking up. I sit up, inhaling the scent of baking pumpkin wafting up from the kitchens. I raise my hand to my eyes, and feel the tired bags gone. I smile.

Perhaps it's because I'm now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all my homework. It's hard to believe I've already been here for two months. The castle feels more like home than Privet Drive ever did. My lessons, too, are becoming more and more interesting now that we have mastered the basics.

I heave myself out of my warm bed, and pull my robes on, combing my fingers through my hair and leaving it down. I think back to previous Halloweens I've had. Only once did Harry and I go trick or treating.

We weren't allowed, so we climbed out Dudley's bedroom window after he had left. Harry had gone as Dracula and I as one of his brides. I'd gotten a lot of pleasant comments on my 'makeup' that night. I smile bitterly at the memory, and join my twin down at breakfast, where Seamus is reciting something.

"Eye of rabbit, harp string hum, turn this water into rum!" he says over and over.

"What's Seamus trying to do?" Ron asks, joining us.

"Turn some water into rum," Harry says through a mouthful of cereal. "I actually managed a weak tea the other day, y'know."

BOOM!

The cup explodes violently, singeing Seamus' hair and face, and all the students around him begin to laugh good-naturedly.

The day gets even better when we walk into Charms. Professor Flitwick announces that we will be beginning to learn as to how to make things fly, something we've all been dying to do since he made Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Flitwick puts us into pairs, and I end up with Sierra (she's phased back to being all sassy again, so it's Sierra).

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaks Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It's rather testing. Sierra puts her feet on the desk, knocking the feather off.

"Sierra - have some common courtesy and get your bloody feet off the desk!" I say hotly after asking her several times as politely as my temper allows.

She just looks at me and rolls her eyes. I swear under my breath. Sierra is such a pain. How is she the same person as Saskia?

I shove her feet off the desk, and she nearly tips out of her chair. Then she begins to just watch as I swish and flick, as if she can't believe I actually touched her. Next to me, Seamus manages to explode his feather. While Harry puts the fire out with his hat, those who saw his show at breakfast explode in another way; with laughter.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron is shouting, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"Stop, stop, stop! You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrong," Hermione snaps. "It's Levi-o-sa, not Leviosar. "

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarls.

"Challenge accepted," I say from my table, behind his. "Wingardium Leviosa!"