Since Christmas, Jill and I have been spending all of our spare time trailing Harry Potter. Or at least, we've been trying to tail him whenever he's not under the invisibility cloak that he stole. Jill is taking it very seriously and frankly, it's been slightly terrifying. Even the slightest mention of HP's name sparks a Dresden-strong fire in her eyes. She can't focus on her school work, leaving me to finish our research project on Nicholas Flammel for Professor Binns.
On one late night in the library, I was sitting over my scroll of parchment and stack of books when who but Hermoine Granger should approach me.
'Excuse me,' she said through her gigantic buckteeth.
'Sup, Beav?' I replied, not looking up. 'I can't find your dam anywhere around school. Do you keep ALL those sticks up your ass?'
'I was wondering when you were going to be done with that?'
'This table? Not for a while. Can't you gnaw the legs of a different one?'
'I meant your copy of Magicke Olde as Fucke.'
'Ahhh, nope. I need to finish my report on Nicholas Flammel for Binns' class. '
Her eyebrows flailed wildly. 'What do you mean Nicholas Flammel? Why are you interested in him?'
'Look, bitch. I'm keeping the book. And the odds of me ever giving it to you are about as good as the odds you can run a brush through that rat trap on top of your head. Not likely. Now get your webbed-footed, paddle-tailed, Chiclet incisored face out of here.'
She harumphed out of the library, and I finished filling my bibliography with books I never consulted. It had been a stressful evening and I decided to stop by the mirror. I've been visiting the mirror almost every night, each night more hopeful its secrets will reveal themselves. Tucked into my four-poster, my dreams offer suggestions of how to unlock the liquor I see alongside my reflection.
I threw open the door of the room, and before I could unshoulder my bookbag, I noticed the mirror was gone! I 180'd and ran up to the common room to find Jill.
'Where the hell is the mirror?!' My voice did that annoying thing where it goes up too high at the end of a question.
'Dumbledore moved it after he found Harry Potter looking at it. I followed him to the room. It just happened tonight,' Jill explained.
'Oh great. I was this close to figuring out how to make it work and now it's gone.' I was sulkier than a Soviet hockey player at the 1980 Olympics. 'The Miracle on Ice will pay for this.'
'You mean Harry?'
'What? Oh, right. Harry.'
I showed Jill our project but she seemed distracted. 'The Sorcerer's Stone gives the user eternal life and an autographed headshot of Henry Winkler...'
'Good, it sounds good,' Jill said.
'You're not even listening! I just said...'
'I'm going to bed.' And with that, Jill ascended the stairs into the girls' dormitory. I shoved our report back into my bag and went off to bed, sober and furious.
The next morning I awoke early and dashed off to the Forbidden Forest for some last minute handfuls of Evanesca. The Fat Lady called after me, 'I haven't forgotten about that Horsestra!' which Jill had stupidly promised her. I had no time for the fat lady, however, because it was the day of Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff and DOPES orders were coming in left and right.
Sales went steadily through the game and, knowing I couldn't unlock the relocated mirror, I went into the forest to find myself a hefty clump of belladonna. I spotted some slightly off the path and hunched over to pick it up. That's when I heard voices.
'... d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all places, Severus...'
'Oh, I thought we'd keep this private. Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all.'
It was Quirrell and Snape!
'Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?'
'B-b-but, Severus, I - '
'You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell.'
'I - I don't know what you - '
'You know perfectly well what I mean.'
I heard a crash from a nearby tree. I was not the only eavesdropper here. Quietly, I tip-toed toward the sound and saw him. Harry Potter! He must have pulled his invisibility cloak over him because he was gone in a flash. Behind me, the voices had disappeared. I doubled back and saw Quirrell standing in silence. He looked hurt and confused. Was he supposed to be helping Snape get to the Stone? Of course! That's why Harry followed them here: he hates Snape and is trying to get to the stone before they do!
'Professor?' He jumped nearly a foot in the air. 'I know how to get past the three headed dog.'
'TELL ME!' He spoke without turning around. The turban around his head fell in and out, gently, as if his head was throbbing with excitement.
'Erm, just play it some music. It'll fall right asleep.'
A maniacal laugh emitted from the back of the rather pale Arab. 'THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN! YOU WILL BE REWARDED FOR THIS, BOY. I MUST GO NOW. I AM HUNGRY.'
As I saw Professor Quirrel walk back to the castle, shoving a cheeseburger in the back of his turban, I couldn't help but smile. He was a simple man, a few quirks, but deep down we were the same - just a couple of skinny guys who were tired of being pushed around.
xoxo
Chris
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