The Carnivorous Pony

The potions class were in a broom closet, a very small broom closet, piled on top of each other. Harry, who had his little finger up Dean Thomas' nostril, started crying inwardly as all his fears that the Dark Lord would harm people who were special to him, while he was incapacitated in a broom closet, came true. He didn't say anything, as he didn't want to appear melodramatic, and also because someone was jamming his jaw shut with both their heels.

"Hey, I found Crabbe's tie on the bottle of Mr Scower's All-purpose Magical Mess Remover!" said Goyle.

"How did that get there?" asked Crabbe.

"Heh. Heh," said Harry, whose mind had never seen a gutter before, but had started insinuating things nevertheless.

"Goyle, that's not a bottle of Mr Scower's All-purpose Magical Mess Remover, that's Crabbe's neck," someone inconsequential to this particular plot pointed out. However, this person did have quite a large part in a small English film that never made it to production, suspiciously titled The Wooden Mushroom.

There was silence for a few minutes, while everyone waited for an explanation of what had happened. No one was forthcoming. Despite the close conditions inside the cupboard, everyone was too polite to look at each other. After about fifteen minutes of watching a small patch of wall, Hermione removed Pansy Parkinson's elbow from her mouth in order to break the tense silence.

"Shall we play a game to pass the time?" she asked.

"Heh."

"Engorged drumstick," Malfoy said, accidentally voicing his ideas for the book he was planning to write, aptly titled 'Me and my euphemisms'.

"That's not a game," Seamus Finnegan replied inquisitively.

"Spin the bottle?" Hermione proposed.

And as all teenagers do, when accidentally stuck in broom cupboards, the potions class haphazardly attempted to play a three-dimensional game of spin the bottle. This was partly due to the fact that many people were perched on shelves higher in the cupboard, and partly so that they could use magic for something other than unlocking doors and turning animals into small objects.

*****

Meanwhile, in the staff room, Professor McGonagall was drinking a cup of herbal tea, pondering how her life would be different if Professor Trelawney were indeed a giant, glittering bug.

*****

The bottle spun and pointed to Malfoy. He groaned, and then flicked his wand to spin again, to see who he would be paired with. It pointed between Harry and Hermione, into the corner of the cupboard.

"Spin again, Malfoy."

"No, no, it landed on that broom," Malfoy replied, trying to convince the rest of the class so that he could have his way with the broom for the next twenty minutes.

"I do not remember anyone specifying when we started the game that inanimate objects were included!"

"I do not remember anyone saying they weren't," was Malfoy's only comeback before he grabbed the broom and tried to conceal it and himself behind Ron. Ron, I am sorry to say, provided very little in the way of concealment, but your kind writers will refrain from any detailed description in this instance. (Don't think you'll be so lucky later on.)

The students' enthusiasm for the game was somewhat diminished by Malfoy's antics. Most were keener to be involved in the broom activities than in a game of Spin the Floating Bottle. Malfoy, however, was having none of it and drew his wand on anyone who got to close to him and his inanimate companion. A small scuffle ensued, which would have been inconsequential but for the fact that it took place in a very small space. Several people ended up with such grievous injuries as Flicked Forehead and Bent-back Finger.

"Everyone Just Chill!" said Neville, in an attempt to end the brawl. No one thought it strange that Neville, an English adolescent, had used the word "chill," along with three capital letters in a row.

The fighting stopped.

"This broom's mine!" Malfoy shouted. "Anyone who comes near her...I'll kill them. I'm never going to stop trying to seduce her. She's perfect. An ice crystal, sparkling in a dark cave...a handle made by the gods and bristles like, like the sun coming out on a cloudy day..."

He went on in this vein for some time. The rest of the class decided to pass the time by doing playing Truth or Dare. For some reason, they hadn't grown out of Truth or Dare in Year 6, like the rest of the world.

*****

"I insist on knowing what Severus has under his robes," said Professor McGonagall severely, "it could be an illicit substance!"

*****

"Hey!" Malfoy cried, in a short moment of coherence, "Snape gave me the antidote to the Inanimate Object potion. Let's take it and get outta here."

"Malfoy's never said 'outta' before, has he? Something must be up with him," whispered Harry, drinking his antidote with everyone else. Malfoy and Harry, it seemed, had been hit with Neville's bug. It was known at St. Mungo's as 'American phrase syndrome'.

*****

"Oh, for goodness sakes, it's just some pink paint!" said Snape, "it's for my own personal use. Although," he looked meaningfully at McGonagall, "I could be persuaded to let you have a look. If you're very kind to me..."

Snape took the paint from under his robes and held it up for the room to see. Unfortunately, at the moment of removal, the tin turned into Draco Malfoy. Surprised, and rather annoyed (McGonagall wouldn't be interested now that there wasn't any pink paint), Snape dropped Malfoy on his head.

"Keep away from my broom, all of you!" Malfoy snarled, before passing out.

However, dearest readers, rest assured! Malfoy will not be severely damaged with such grievous injuries like our other heroes were previously. Please review. Flames welcome....