The Carnivorous Pony

As Malfoy was floated up to the hospital wing by Professor McGonagall, Snape silently cursed himself.

He had all that time alone with the tin of pink paint, and he still had not had enough time to act on his urges.

"Damn you Malfoy" He cursed, why did he have to turn up at the most crucial moment? He had been just about to open the lid....

***

When Malfoy woke up, he realized within seconds that he had been separated from what only hours ago had given him a good time.

Where was his precious broom? Already, the cold feeling of her absence was creeping in. I need her, he thought, she carries me down into the water of love.

He took out a notebook and wrote this down. It was much needed progress in his work "Me and My Euphemisms. The story, which was semi-autobiographical, had been inspired by this magnificent object, which was, at present, thrown aimlessly onto the bed next to him. She was his muse, and Madame Pomfrey had abandoned her.

Malfoy got out of bed, grabbed her, and ran. He felt sure that Madame Pomfrey had attempted to steal the one shining ray of hope in his life.

'I will never let anyone ever hurt you again,' he said as ran down the hall clutching her. He wanted to give her up about as much as he wanted to contract a rare fungal disease from the foothills of Mt. Pinatubo.

Meanwhile, the rest of our protagonists were congregated in the Great Hall. Ron had received an interesting and unexpected letter from his mother. He read bits of it aloud to Hermione and Harry.

"...Oh, and before I forget, your brother Hank has come back from St Mungo's. He should be arriving at Hogsmeade on the 18th of March. Try to make him feel at home. You know how he has trouble making friends, what with him never having lived at home, but in Manhattan..."

Here, Ron trailed off for no particular reason.

"Hank? Coming here?" he asked aloud.

"Who's Hank?" asked Harry, taking a bite of breakfast.

"Oh, he's my twin brother. He's been living in America for the last few years. I thought he'd be coming soon, but not this soon."

"Wow, cool," said Harry, who didn't seem surprised at the news at all, even though Ron was his best friend and had never even uttered a word to the extent of him having another sibling.

"Yes, when's he coming?" asked Hermione, equally unperturbed by the unusual fact that Mrs. Weasley had had two sets of twins.

"Um, it says here the 18th of March, so that's...four days ago."

"Oh. So, is he in Gryffindor?"

"Yeah, he's sitting next to Hermione."

Slightly startled, Hermione looked round, expecting to see another Ron, only a bit more American. She had already made up her mind to fall madly in love with this enigmatic foreigner named Hank. Her eyes were not disappointed as they met a pair of grey green eyes. They reminded her of the sea she'd grown up on, when her parents had been sailing dentists.

***

Harry and Ron had left their friend alone with Hank. They'd been fairly sure from the start that the two would realize their true feelings for each other, although Ron had been worried that Hank's semi-corporeal form would put a damper on things.

The two decided to hang out in front of the statue of Uric the Oddball in the basement. No one really came there much, because it was rumored to be haunted by a strange presence, which smelt vaguely of chili. Harry and Ron, however, didn't believe a word of it. Despite their joint ability to control the world around them using only words and a piece of wood, they didn't believe in such nonsense.

"Anyway, so I walked in, and Nearly Headless Nick and Fawkes were-" Thankfully, Harry was cut off by a chill breeze, which rustled the boy's hair in a strangely uniform way.

"Don't people know how much money is wasted by leaving windows open?" asked Ron, angrily. "I mean, the double glazing is there for a reason, people!" American phrase syndrome had temporarily affected him. It was catching really fast.

"Ron, there aren't any windows in this corridor. It's underground."

"Huh. So they went out of their way to leave a window open!"

"Ron, there's something weird going on..."

Harry's suspicions were confirmed as swirling winds tugged at their clothing. Some of the gusts seemed to converge is a certain spot, forming a wavering mirage. It looked like a girl, about their age, wearing a strange outfit...a sweater and a pleated skirt? Whoever designed this had NO fashion sense, thought Harry (who still hadn't realized that he flew for the other team).

"...Draco Malfoy is a sexy beast..."

The vision spoke these few cryptic words then faded, like summer rain, and was gone.

***

Harry had time to wonder about the sudden apparition that he had seen in the hallways, and the next day before Herbology, he had managed to pull Hermione aside for a quick talk.

Her response about the whole situation was, to Harry's horror, to consult a book.

Therefore, the next day, Harry trudged along to the library wearing his most subdued expression, ready for a hard day of page flicking.

He had been through half the shelves in the deadly apparitions' section, when he came across Magnificent Mirages by Percy Weasley. He didn't know Percy had written a book. He flicked through the contents: mirages in fire, mirages in soil, mirages in various bodily fluids, 'Ah' he said, a little too loudly, when he reached mirages with wind.

He opened the book to page 666. He then read:

Many wind mirages can be seen throughout the land, but none is more suspect than the Pervy Fancius...

Hmmm, he thought, I have read this somewhere before. Harry tapped his teeth with a pencil, shattering his right canine.

"Damn these weak teeth!" he shouted, feeling rather out of character, and went off in search of some calcium.