From the Ferret's View

Moment 6

Hello, faithful readers! I've returned! I'm not even going to ask if you missed me- I know you did. Why wouldn't you? It's me, after all.

This chapter chronicles the most unusually wild feast I have ever experienced in all my years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes, I know, you must be thinking to yourselves: Draco, your last memory was of the Dueling Club in December! Were there no instances that proved Weasley and Granger's obvious affections for each other?

My first answer: Don't you remember First Year? I only had one memory for that!

My second answer: Believe it or not, I try my hardest to stay away from the oh-so-fabulous (note the sarcasm) Golden Trio and I do not, in fact, observe them all that often. During my second year, I was very focused on trying to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was- I wanted to help him, it would have been such an honor- and so, I stayed away from Potter, Weasley, and Granger even more than usual that year.

My third answer: Keep in mind, Granger was paralyzed by the basilisk (bless its dead heart) just after Easter holidays, and was only revived on the day of the feast that I will tell you about shortly.

My fourth answer: This may shock you, but twelve- and thirteen-year-olds do not have that much romance.

You better be satisfied with my reasoning there, because I'm right and you're wrong if you think otherwise. And that's that. On with the memory!

"Why are we celebrating?" I groaned, fighting to keep my poise and not bang my head on the Slytherin table.

"'Cause they caught the Heir o' Slyth'rin," Goyle told me. I rolled my eyes at his stupidity.

"I know what happened," I snapped at him, "but celebrating signifies happy occasions, and this is not a happy occasion!"

"Draco's right," Pansy agreed with me, sitting next to me at the table. "We should be mourning the fact that no more Mudbloods will be paralyzed! That poor monster didn't even get a chance to kill one!"

"Exactly! I couldn't have said it better myself!" I actually meant it, too. Judging by the way Pansy was beaming at me, she felt just as honored as she should. Good. At least someone wasn't a total idiot. Too bad she had a pug's face.

Speaking of her pug face, I looked away from it and surveyed the Great Hall. It was all in a state of total chaos. My fellow students were acting like complete barbarians- honestly, it was embarrassing. I was sure that I would be at least half deaf from the sheer noise of it all by the time this was over. Students were dancing on tables, crying as they hugged each other in relief, drinking butterbeer and firewhiskey that someone had stolen from the kitchens- probably those dratted Weasley twins.

As if this wasn't enough, we were all in our pajamas. Yes, our pajamas. It was ridiculous- one minute, I was fast asleep in my comfortable dorm bed. The next, the Slytherin prefect was shaking me awake, telling me to, "Get up, Malfoy. The Heir of Slytherin's been caught, and everyone's celebrating in the Great Hall. Don't give me that look- I don't want to go either, but if the Slytherins stay in their dorms, we may well have a full uprising on our hands from the rest of Hogwarts, and we don't want that, now, do we?" He had ushered me out of my dormitory before I had the chance to even ask if I could change my clothes. Bloody git.

Even the teachers were in their pajamas and celebrating- well, not Snape. He was just sitting up at the teachers' table, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened; I figured that he hated this as much as I did. Surprisingly, he was dressed the same as he always was: black robes. He probably slept with them on. Now, that wouldn't surprise me.

Suddenly, all of the noise quieted down, and I looked to see Professor Dumbledore holding his hand up for silence. For once, I was thankful for the old gizzard. "Ah, it is so refreshing to see such happiness back at Hogwarts," he beamed down at all of us. I grimaced- a long, sentimental speech was the absolute last thing I needed.

"I am glad to say that I have resumed my post as Headmaster here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, and I could have cried, my sorrow was so deep, "and I have no plans to leave anytime soon." This was met with a round of cheering, and I glared at anyone I could see. Only a group of first year Hufflepuffs were rightfully scared. Everyone else just gave me the finger. Manners these days! They're nonexistent, I tell you!

Dumbles held up his hand, and everyone was quiet again. "Now, I have a few announcements to make, and then we will allow everyone to resume their celebrations. First, I believe we all owe a round of applause to Professor Sprout, who raised an excellent harvest of Mandrakes." I crossed my arms stubbornly while the imbeciles I unfortunately called my classmates clapped for the Herbology teacher. "Due to the fact that those Mandrakes have now matured, Professor Snape was able to whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught- thank you, Professor Snape- I believe that you will want to say hello to some of your classmates again."

Right on cue- honestly, it was so obvious that this had been set up- the doors to the Great Hall opened, and I could have sworn that I had died and gone to hell. There, in the doorway, were the four Mudbloods (and one ghost) who had been paralyzed.

The Mudbloods all ran through the Great Hall to their friends, grinning broadly while everyone cheered. Gits. Some people were even crying, which was really just plain pathetic. Since I had nothing else to do, I decided to watch Granger. She was just as bushy-haired and buck-toothed as ever, and Mr. I'm-So-Awesome-I-Saved-The-Day-Yet-Again Potter stood up to hug her while she yelled, "You solved it! You solved it!" Next Weasley stood up, and he and Granger prepared to hug each other when the strangest thing happened:

They stopped.

Just before they were about to hug each other, they stopped and backed away a little, both blushing furiously, their faces as red as Weasley's hair. They ended up shaking hands, sharing a long look that even I could tell, from the other side of the Great Hall, was full of meaning.

Merlin, that sounded disgustingly sentimental, almost. If it didn't pertain to a blood traitor and a Mudblood, Father might actually be proud of my wording.

There was a huge bang, and everyone's attention- including mine- was drawn to the doorway yet again. Our oaf of a gamekeeper was there, and this time, I didn't even bother trying to keep my poise and went ahead and banged my head on the table. It seemed that my fellow Slytherins wanted to do the same thing, proving that Slytherin is the best house, as all the others were acting like idiots and cheering. Again. What was it with these people and cheering?

I stopped banging my head against the table when a blissful silence was resumed, and I looked up at Dumbledore. "I extend a hearty 'Welcome back' to all of our returning friends," he smiled at the oaf, the ghost, and the Mudbloods each in turn (I was almost sick at how honored that looked by it), "but, alas, I have more announcements to make. For one, Professor Lockhart, unfortunately, will be unable to return to Hogwarts next year, owing to the fact that he needs to go away and get his memory back." For once, I joined in the cheering, utterly gleeful. Finally, something worth celebrating! Everyone seemed overjoyed, even the teachers; in fact, the only exception was a handful of heartbroken girls who were crying their ugly eyes out.

Now, McGonagall stood up. I hated to admit it- she was the Head of Gryffindor, the lowliest House imaginable, after all- but I could see why Dumbledore had appointed her Deputy Headmistress. Her standing up had the same effect as Dumbledore raising his hands: complete silence.

"I have an announcement of my own to make," she began, her voice commanding and scarily like Dumbledore's. "Since classes have been rather scarce this year, thanks to all this chaos with the Heir of Slytherin, as a school treat, all exams have been cancelled!"

Again, I had to cheer along with everyone else. Anyone who said that this wasn't good news had to be barmy, without a doubt (further proving my reasons for thinking that Granger should be put in a in mental unit of St. Mungo's; even across the Hall from her, her cry of, "Oh, no" could be heard above the cheering). Perhaps coming to this unfortunate celebration wasn't a total waste, I thought to myself. After all, it's been two pieces of good, useful information in a row now!

As soon as this thought passed through my head, though, Dumbledore just had to go and prove me wrong by standing up and awarding four hundred points to Gryffindor for Potter and Weasley.

Sometimes, I really hated my life.

That was one of the less happy moments of my life. Losing really does upset me. I do hope that I don't have to point out which part of that memory hinted that Weasley and Granger had feelings for each other. If I do, then I suggest that you confront your parents as soon as possible at why they dropped you on your head as a baby. And no, I am not being hypocritical, if you're wondering. My parents never once dropped me on my handsome head as a baby!

I've been told that Aunt Bella did, though.

My lack of updating is inexcusable. Please, feel free to throw vegetables at me. Hope you liked this chapter; PLEASE review and tell me what you think! Even if I don't deserve it!

Thanks so much,

Joelle8