It was dreadful. Absolutely dreadful.
The pixies shot in every direction like rockets on New Years eve. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air, while several others shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreak havoc on their innocent classroom, which really hadn't done anything wrong. The poor thing was being practically ripped to shreds. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and test papers, tore pictures from the walls, knocked the waste bin over, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class had crawled under their desks while poor Neville swung from the candelabra in the ceiling.
"Come on now, round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Professor Lockhart shouted merrily.
Harry scowled viciously.
Oblivious to his glare, the professor rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
Predictably, the spell had absolutely no effect, and one of the pixies proceeded to seize Lockhart's wand and threw it out of the window, to boot. Disarmed by a pixie, Professor Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the candelabra gave way. Then, thank all that is holy, the bell rang and there was a mad rush towards the exit.
Ron Weasley decisively slammed the door shut behind him once everyone had managed to escape.
"Can you believe him?" the redhead roared.
"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione snippily, nearly causing Harry to fall over in horror.
"Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing," Harry tried.
"Rubbish," Hermione retorted. "You've read his books – look at all those amazing things he's done..."
Harry nearly gaped – Pansy Parkinson was nodding in agreement.
"He says he's done," Ron muttered.
And as much as his fellow Slytherins disliked Ron, he knew they were all agreeing. Well, all the males were. Greengr-Daphne, at the very least, looked conflicted.
Meanwhile, Harry could not quite keep the scowl off his face. "Did it at all occur to you that his books are exactly what they look like?"
"And what's that?"
"Fiction."
Hermione glared at him, along with the other girls in the group. "You're just jealous he didn't complement your work in class!"
That might have been the first time Parkinson was truly happy about Hermione beating Harry at anything.
Harry grimaced, and could not help but feel a bit disappointed at her response. "Is that really what you think, Hermione?"
She faltered a bit, at that.
Harry sighed and turned to the boys standing behind him. "Well, I've been thoroughly traumatized. I'll be in the library for the next 3 hours, if anyone needs me."
And with that, he marched off, eager to restore some order back into his life.
"Wait!" he heard Theo calling as he ran after him. "I'll come with!"
Harry blinked in surprise. "...ok."
"Can you believe that man?" Theo was saying as he fell into step with Harry, "Unleashing a cage full of pixies! What did he expect us to do with them anyway?"
Harry shrugged. "I honestly doubt he thought through it that far."
Theo scoffed. "Incompetent. Even worse than Quirrell."
"Well, Professor Quirrell wasn't actually incompetent – he was just pretending to be."
"You think?"
"Oh, definitely – you should have seen him down in the dungeons – he made a fine villain, actually."
"Huh – you don't say."
"Oh, I do indeed."
At that moment, a flash of red flew past them, running into Harry and causing a pile of books to tumble down to his feet.
Once he'd steadied himself, Harry looked down to find the youngest Weasley child shakily rising to her feet, hair bright red and frazzled. He reached down to pick up her books.
"Ginny Weasley, right? Ron's sister?"
Her eyes were wide and she was staring at him like a deer caught in headlights.
"It's nice to -"
He paused when he noticed one of the books she had dropped – a ratty old diary that looked suspiciously like his own...suspiciously like Tom's replica.
He frowned. "Where...did you get that diary? It looks an awful lot like one I have."
At that, she paled drastically, ripping the book out of his hands and running off.
"I'm telling you," Theo said beside him, "This year got all the crazy ones."
Harry tried not to show his discomfort. "Yeah, you may be right."
Thankfully, the rest of the walk to the library passed without incident. Once they got there, Theo immediately turned to Harry.
"So, what are we looking for?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know yet. All I know is that if I read anymore potions my brain is going to either shrivel up or spontaneously combust."
"Fair enough. Any ideas?"
"Well...next year we choose electives...perhaps we should do some research concerning what we plan on taking...?"
"I've heard Divination is an easy O," Theo commented as he followed Harry into the stacks.
"And definitely I won't be taking it."
"What? Why?"
Harry scowled. "Because it's complete nonsense. And if you have any sense at all you won't take it either."
Theo's eyebrows rose. "Alright then. I take it you're planning on Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."
Harry nodded. "You should at the very least take Ancient Runes as well. It's a crucial ingredient in studying fields like warding or spell crafting -" He paused, and then chuckled a bit. "Ingredients...I really have been reading too much Potions."
Theo rolled his eyes, before squinting and reaching to a shelf far above Harry's head.
A Broad Introduction to Runology (with emphasis on Norse, Greek, Hebrew, and Sanskrit)
Harry's eyes sparkled as he took the book out of Theo's hand.
"See?" Theo said with a smirk, "This is why you have to eat more. You need to grow big and tall so you can find the books meant for upper years."
Harry scowled at him. "You're not very subtle."
"I'm not trying to be."
"Hmm." He brushed passed Theo sweeping down another aisle.
"I have a bad feeling about it," Harry said into Tom's mirror.
Tom raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"Ginny Weasley's diary. It...looked an awful lot like yours. It was...eerie."
Tom's eyes glinted. "Maybe it is mine."
Harry frowned. "I think I would have known if it was a horcrux."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "It's very old, and has been dormant for a very long time. It's probably quite weak."
"You think it would be so weak it wouldn't even register as another horcrux?"
"You've never reacted to the horcrux in the Room of Hidden Things."
"Wait! There's a horcrux in there?"
"Ravenclaw's lost diadem. It's hiding in there somewhere. It has been for the last 40 years."
"Huh...so...I might not be able to feel horcruxes that haven't had any human contact for several decades."
"Perhaps. It's also possible that the shock from your encounter with my master soul left you temporarily less sensitive to my other horcruxes."
"Then how do I know if the diary is actually your horcrux?"
Tom smirked. "Give it a few weeks. My younger self had a fairly one-track mind."
Harry paled at that. "You think...he'd open the Chamber of Secrets?"
"Oh, there is no doubt in my mind. If Ginny Weasley is in possession of my old diary, the Chamber of Secrets will be opened in due time."
"And then what?" Harry asked cautiously.
"Well, we sit back and enjoy the show, I suppose."
Harry grimaced, his stomach squirming.
.....
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