The Forbidden Four: Year One

Chapter Nine - Fluffy

Chapter Nine - Fluffy

     "Did you hear!?" Pansy Parkinson threw herself down into the seat beside Castor, causing his to spill his pumpkin juice all over himself and the Newspaper he was reading about the Gringotts Break In. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, Pansy -- oblivious to his frustration -- let out an angry shriek that practically shook the Great Hall. "POTTER GOT ON THE QUIDDITCH TEAM!" Castor flinched away from her and covered his ears, having the faint thought that they were probably bleeding before he slowly took his hands off and stared at her like she had grown two extra heads.

"I thought he was expelled?"

     "HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!"

"Okay, okay--" he pushed her away from him lightly, "please stop screaming," he whispered.

     She ignored him.

"AND NOT JUST ANY POSITION! HE'S THE BLOODY SEEKER!"

     "Please stop--"

"HOW CAN I NOT SCREAM?! IT'S SO UNFAIR!"

     "I'm--"

"HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS?!"

     "Let me talk--"

"DRACO!" She screeched as Castor's cousin appeared at breakfast, a dark, borderline sociopathic expression on his face. "What's with the screaming?" He asked as he sat down and handed a piece of toast to Goyle for him to butter for him.

     "Potter got Seeker!"

"Oh so now you stop yelling--"

     "HE WHAT!?"

Castor raised a sarcastic eyebrow over at him, "you didn't know? Figured you did, you looked like someone stuck your wand up your arse when you walked in." Draco glared harshly at him, swallowing his anger. His hands were literally shaking, causing Castor to glance down at the fork clutched tightly in them. He reached forward as Pansy blabbered on and on about how Potter didn't deserve it -- which, to be fair, Castor agreed with that -- and slowly uncurled Draco's fingers from the utensil and took it from him.

     "Let's not use this," he said as he waved the fork for show and slid it down the long table, where it stopped about ten feet away from them.

Draco leaned forward, slamming his hands onto the table and making both Pansy and Castor jump a little. "How did that Scar-face get on the Quidditch team!? We're first years!" Castor leaned back in his seat as Draco got up-close-and-personal with him. "Uh, Draco, move back a little, please?"
"Why?" He snapped. Castor deadpanned. "Because your breath smells like sausage and it's making me nauseous."

     Draco sat back down with a scornful look sent in Castor's direction.

"You've got to be kidding me," Pansy suddenly growled.

     Castor spun around in his seat, catching sight of the boy himself, looking quite awkward with all the attention he was receiving. "Doesn't look very happy, does he?" Castor said with a snort. Pansy narrowed her eyes into slits, "it's obviously an act," Draco spoke up. "Saint Potter," he scoffed, "wants us all to think he's innocent. Probably got the teachers bewitched."

Castor snickered slightly under his breath before looking back up at Draco, "he's eleven."

     "And on the Quidditch team which no first year has managed ever." Pansy pointed out. "He grew up with muggles." Castor deadpanned. "Much more of a reason for us to suspect him for bewitchment!" Draco exclaimed.