A Strange Night At Hogwarts

 

My stomach is growling like crazy as me and my best friend Ella head into the castle with the rest of the Hufflepuff sixth years. Ella and I are from the U.S. We got special permission to come to Hogwarts because our moms were all “Dumbledore is so amazing! We’re gonna send our kids across the planet to be educated under his influence!”. We thought we’d be popular, being from a different country and all, but we forgot about the fact that Harry Potter was going to be in our year. Everyone here is so busy ogling at him, no one even notices that we’re the only ones without an accent, apart from our fellow Hufflepuffs of course. They know, but let’s face it, American student sounds really lame next to “Survived the killing curse at age one and is the Chosen One”. But whatever. It’s not like it matters.

Anyway, me and Ella walk into the Great Hall and sit down at the Hufflepuff table for dinner. We each grab a plate and serve ourselves some dinner. I take shepherd’s pie, meat loaf, and mashed potatoes. Ella takes some roast beef, a roll, and a goblet of pumpkin juice. When we first came to Hogwarts, we were like, “Pumpkin juice? What’s that? Why would you drink that?” but then in our fourth year, I dared Ella to try it, and now she’s addicted. Not me though, I prefer butterbeer. Whoever invented that stuff is a genius. Sadly, they don’t serve it at mealtimes, and is only obtainable in Hogsmeade.

“Hagrid must be really upset about something.” Remarked Ella, gesturing at Hagrid’s empty chair. I nodded my agreement, my mouth stuffed with potatoes and ground beef. Would it really kill the house-elves to serve hotdogs or pizza for once bye the way? Anyway, earlier, we passed Hagrid’s cabin, and we could here him bawling as if is favorite pet had died. I wondered what possibly could have happened, put pushed the thought away, because just then, treacle tart, possibly my favorite Hogwarts dessert, appeared on the table. I served myself a large helping and stuffed my face as if my life depended on it.

“Oof, I think I had too much treacle tart.” I moaned an hour after dinner. I was feeling kinda weird, as if I was supposed to be doing something, but didn’t know what. Ella gave me a sympathetic look.

“Maybe you should go to the hospital wing.” She suggested. I was about to agree, but something stopped me.

“No, I think I’ll go for a walk.” I was surprised to hear myself say. What was happening to me? Ella, meanwhile, was unsure about my stomachache cure.

“Why?” she asked. “Madame Pomphrey can just give you magic painkiller or something.” I just shrugged. What I wanted to do was scream that someone was bewitching me. I opened my mouth to let out a shriek that would shatter all of the windows in the common room, but no sound came out. Instead, I got up and started walking to the common room door. I turned to Ella and had a short battle with my face muscles to arrange my face in an expression that said “HELP! SOS!”. And what do you know, I lost. To my own face. Wow.

My legs, moving by themselves, direct me toward Filch’s office.

“No, no, no!” I whisper to myself. If I don’t find a way to stop myself, then Filch will give detention for a month. I doubt he would believe me if I told him that I was being controlled by someone. Suddenly, I stop, randomly in the middle of the corridor. I hear someone whistling as they come up behind me. I try to move, but it feels like my feet are glued to the spot. My first thought is Professor Snape, and now he was going to set me at sorting out salamander eyes from newt eyes for the next three months. Then I remember that Snape would never whistle like that. The whistling stops, and I sense someone standing right behind me.

“Miss Simpson?” says a voice. “What on earth are you doing out here at this hour?” My feet allow me to turn around, where I see, not Snape, but Professor Slughorn. I wait for my mouth to start talking on its own, but nothing happens. Great. Whatever is controlling me has abandoned me and left me to my own devices. I spot a broom cupboard and come up with a plan.

“Oh, uh, good evening professor.” I say. “I, uh, have a stomachache, and I, um, wanted to get some herbs from the greenhouses.” Please buy it, please buy it, please buy it…

“Ah, very clever. Making your own antidote, very good.” Said Slughorn approvingly. His expression became confused.

“But then why are you heading in the opposite direction from the Great Hall?” I forced a smile and I opened the broom cupboard and rummaged inside until I found what I was looking for: a bent, out of shape, rusted pair of gardening shears that probably couldn’t cut the flimsiest twig. I had used them in Herbology in my second year and they hadn’t seen the light of day since a kerfuffle I had with the Womping Willow when I tried to help Professor Sprout after Harry Potter and Ron Weasley crashed a magical car into it. The sheers were dismantled by the Womping Willow, so I’d dumped them into the broom closet. Little did I know how useful they would become.

I held the sheers out for Slughorn to see.

“I need my sheers, to cut the herbs.” I said. “For my stomachache antidote.” Slughorn had one more question.

“But why are you doing this so late?” he asked. I did some lightning fast thinking.

“Well, all good gardeners know that the best time to pick magical herbs is at twilight.” I lied, nodding my head knowingly as if this were obvious and Slughorn should have always known. Slughorn’s eye’s lit up, as if this were the most wonderful news he had heard all day.
“Really?” he said, smiling broadly. “That’s wonderful! Care if I join you? I could do a lesson for my third years with specially picked herbs and ingredients!” He seemed to have forgotten that I was there for a moment.

“Um, you know what? I think my stomachache has passed.” Slughorn blinked back into focus.

“What? Oh, yes, that’s good. Now, I better go get my sheers.” He said and ran off as fast as his feet could carry him. Which was not very fast. But just then, my feet started moving of their own accord again toward the Great Hall, until I got to the big oak doors which were securely closed. Without control over my actions, I pulled out my wand and started to mutter some spells I didn’t recognize. With a series of clicks, the doors unlocked. I stared at my wand and held it away from myself as if it were a poisonous snake. When it didn’t do anything else, I shrugged and stuffed it in my robes. Then I headed back to the Hufflepuff common room.

Ella looked up as I entered the common room.

“Sima!” she exclaimed. “Where have you been? It’s been forever!” I didn’t what to answer, so I just shrugged.

“I don’t know.” I said. “But one thing’s for sure; this has been a strange night at Hogwarts.”

For more great Harry Potter Fanfiction, go to: 

https://hadassaharrel.wixsite.com/hadassaswritingblog

hadassaharrel.com