Call Me Crazy

Call Me Crazy: Sean's Story

october 28th: elbow grease

11:56 p.m.

In the Potion's Dungeon

Honestly. So we set off dungbombs during class. That doesn't exactly call for punishment, does it? If it does, it was definitely worth it.

Let me paint you a little picture . . .

Let's go back fourteen hours to Potions Class, shall we? As usual, Snape is drawling on and on about truth potions or something--I'm not sure. He tends to mumble. Ironic how he mumbles right when I'm not exactly paying much attention. Well, as my mind is wandering, so are my eyes. Which happen to fall upon good old' Draco Malfoy and his cronies "Crabby and Gar-Goyle" as we so amusingly call them. ('We' as in me, Fred and George, and Evan.) Since the Weasley twins weren't in my year, the only idiot foolish enough to pull off a stunt like the one I was currently imagining was Evan. Now, of course he wouldn't be doing it alone--I'd have a part in this brilliant old plan of mine.

Okay, so I tapped Evan on the shoulder (he sat at my right, therefore, I call him my "Right-Hand Man") and whispered to him my idea. He listened intently, a sly smile coming across his face. With a nod he agreed to go through with the plan--good man. As Snape scribbled across the board the ingredients and recipe for truth potions, Evan and I pulled out multiple dungbombs from within our pockets and kept an eye on our targets as we crept silently around several tables.

Snape had unwisely gone to his store of ingredients for a moment. Now directly behind the three Slytherins, we had waited until Draco called out so Professor Snape could hear: "Why, Professor, I think I've done it!" Aye, the pride and smugness in his voice was enough to make me want to gag. And gag I did. But it was our cue. We stood up and fired three dungbombs at them. My target was Malfoy; Evan's were Crabby and Gar-Goyle. The bombs exploded on impact and as the three screamed in anguish, Evan and I laughed our heads off. (Although, bits of dung showered above our heads and were collecting on our shoulders.) Hahaha, it still cracks me up! And to add to its sweetness, the force of the bombs was enough to knock over Draco's cauldron, and Evan and I watched with glee as mildly strong truth potion was thrown up into the air and into Malfoy's rather large mouth. (He had managed to rattle off unpleasant names for about two minutes straight.) Icing to the cake, I daresay.

The whole class was doubled-up with laughter, shouting all at once different questions for Draco to answer. Snape returned, having heard the ruckus, only to see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle covered in poo and not to mention Draco making completely no sense, calling out answers to questions that positively stood out in our class. It was pandemonium. And priceless!

And of course Snape had to be the party pooper (party "pooper"... haha) and make Evan and I clean up our act by cleaning the whole classroom. How'd he know it was us, I'll never know. Snape works in odd, yet mysterious ways. So yeah, here Evan and I are, scrubbing the debris from the dungbomb extravaganza at midnight.

12:06 a.m.

Evan has fallen asleep on the job.

12:32 a.m.

Still in the Potion's Dungeon

Finished the job on my own. I am good! Oh and before I left with the bucket of soapy water, I placed a remnant of the dungbomb on the tip of Evan's nose. Should be a good wakeup call for him.

Did you really expect me to wake up Evan? It'd really be of no use--he sleeps like a log.

Besides, I'm sure Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris could do the job for me . . . fwahahahahah!

12:41 a.m.

Some Corridor

You know what? I think I might actually be lost! Lost! I've been to this school for five years, and now I'm lost in some corridor. Psh, Snape shouldn't have assigned us a detention this late--especially when he knows the castle is practically pitch-black. I can only see something within a meter in front of me. That cannot be a good sign.

Now where's that blasted wand?

1:02 a.m.

Back in the Potion's Dungeon

I don't suppose I've left my wand in here? Ohhh, Mom'll kill me if I lose that wand . . .

I don't see Evan. Surely he hadn't woken up after I left and went the RIGHT way back to Gryffindor Tower? Or maybe Filch had collected him and locked him up somewhere?

That's just crazy-talk.

Ah, there my wand is--on Snape's desk!

"Lumos!"

Much better. I can actually see!

I went back out the heavy wooden door and set off down the RIGHT path to Gryffindor Tower. Man, was I sleepy.

I held my wand out before me until I heard a slight creaking sound behind me. I paused for a moment, but didn't bother to look over my shoulder. I continued on.

Creak, creak, creak . . .

I stopped again and listened. There was nothing. I kept going, quickening my pace.

Creak, creak, creak!

Bloody hell, something was following me! I spun around and cowered slightly as a ghastly figure of a suit of armor towered over me.

I opened my mouth to scream before--

"Sean! Chill, it's me, Evan!"

My jaw nearly touched the floor. "Evan?" I reached up and lifted the flap of the knight's helmet. Sure enough, Evan's face was brightened in the wand light.

"I almost jumped out of my skin, I did!" I exclaimed with a relief.

Oddly enough, the suit of armor opened like a weird sort of cabinet. Evan climbed out and didn't bother to put it back. We were sure it would be an interesting topic for tomorrow morning--the whole student body would be discussing their theories on how a certain suit of armor had managed to walk halfway through a hallway.

It was a darn good prank, I must say.

And as for the dung on Evan's nose, he said he had set it on Snape's desk, placed a toothpick in the center, and fastened a small piece of white paper on it. As a sign of surrendering.

That should earn us at least a lunch detention or something.