It's Hard to be Perky when You're a Malfoy

Just kidding

"No Quidditch cup!" Gregory cried.

Lione gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh no," came a muffled reply.

"Are you kidding?" he said.

"Yes," Lione replied firmly, taking her hands away. "Absolutely. Kidding." She laughed. "Ha ha ha."

"Why aren't they holding it?" I asked.

"I said I was joking," Lione whined.

"And you expected us to believe that?" said Joseph.

"No..." Lee admitted.

"How can't they have the Quidditch cup?" Gregory pleaded.

"They're changing it," said Lione, firmly. "Bit of variety, you know? This year it's going to be a bowl instead. Well... more of a dish." We looked at her. "The runner up gets a fork," she offered.

Lione can lie like a politician if she really wants to but this was us and she was caught off guard and there's a certain part of her, which just makes her who she is, that defeats the rest. It's the part that's cheeky to teachers and sings Monty Python songs when she's being attacked by Vampires.

"Lio," scalded Gregory.

"I'm sorry," she conceded. "I can't tell you. Laura made me promise."

"Laura told you?" I asked.

"She told her what?"

"You know?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Eh?"

We stared at each other for a while.

"I didn't know Laura even had a secret," Joseph started again.

"You could tell," I said. "It was how she looked. She just... looked like she knew something we didn't."

"She always looks like that," said Gregory.

"This time it was more specific," I said.

"And she told me," said Lione, apologetically. "She said she was dying to tell someone and we've been exchanging letters all summer and she told me and she made me promise not to tell anyone and I am sooo sorry but I can't tell you." She giggled. "You're going to be so excited when you find out though."

We all burst into simultaneous pleas, each one causing Lione more amusement then the last, when the door opened. Laura walked in and placed herself down in the seat next to Lee. We stared at her. She looked around at us expectantly then doubled over laughing.

"What now?" cried Gregory, getting annoyed.

Laura reached into her pocket and pulled out something, which she placed on the table.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I've seen these," said Lione.

She touched it gently and the thing began to fly around in circles. It was a little model of Harry Potter in his England uniform and on his broom.

"That's one of those quidditch player models you get in the chocolate eggs," said Gregory. "Magic-podz isn't it? I didn't think they did Harry Potter."

"They're not supposed to," said Laura between giggles. "My dad doesn't want them around but his agent gave permission. They managed to produce and send out one hundred before dad could stop them. I managed to nick a few more. They're really rare now." She handed us each one. "But don't any of your dare ask my dad to sign them. He'd kill me."

She giggled again and got to her feet.

"Laura," said Joseph, quickly. "What's happening this year?"

There was a chorus of 'yeah's.

Laura shrugged. "Oh the usual things I suppose. Lessons, Feasts, Fights most probably, a worrying amount of acting from what I hear, and Exams, but not for everyone of course."

She walked out and Lione burst out laughing.

"Oh come on!" Gregory protested.

"I can't tell you," she repeated. "But you are going to love it."

***

Gregory was so busy nagging Lione on the way into the great hall for the start of term feast that he almost forgot about Simon. As we took our place at the Gryffindor table it came back to him and he groaned and started hitting his head against the table. To be honest I was nearly as worried, although I didn't quite feel the need to injure myself. Simon was... freaky to be frank (although if I was Frank I wouldn't be Lucy). I didn't want him in my house, wandering around the common room looking at me, Lione, the fire, the stair, the chair, the ceiling, Gregory, Melanie, the floor, me again, the table, the floor, the ceiling, the tapestry, Joseph, Lione again, the fire, the candles etc. I wondered if this was how Joseph felt the previous year, then dismissed it immediately. Melanie was nice. Melanie was normal. And no matter how annoying she is as a little sister (after all when someone is your sibling you see them in a completely different way to other people) she cannot be as weird as Simon. Simon was not allowed to be a Gryffindor.

A crocodile of tiny first years entered the hall and looked around nervously. They proceeded to the front where the sorting hat awaited them. A few gasped and backed away as the seemingly lifeless and rather tatty looking cloth opened a rip in its brim and began to sing:

As all of you now gather here,

To have the feast that starts the year,

You all, each one, should shed a tear,

For the vital, yet forgotten, sorting headgear.

I do enjoy singing for the dead,

I don't tell you to read the book instead,

I proudly sit upon your head,

Then watch you hurry off to bed.

You see I do just love to sing,

And writing songs that have a ring,

You see my friends that is the thing,

I have twelve months for my writing.

I tell of brave in Gryffindor,

Sly Slytherin, smart Ravenclaw,

Of Hufflepuff and their great war,

But when it's done it's all a bore.

I sing and then it's off you troop,

Don't spare a thought, don't hear a whoop,

It's not easy being new each group,

I never repeat, I never loop.

So here's my message, listen do,

While in your houses potions brew,

Remember 'twas I, who picked you,

And offer up your thanks long due.

Everyone applauded - slightly louder than usual I noted.

"I think it's trying to make a point," said Lione.

"Better do what it says," said Gregory. "Or it might go on strike. And what a pity that would be."

"Why couldn't it have gone on strike last year?" Joseph mused, dreamily.

It would be a while before we found out if what our fate would be, after all, Weasley was pretty low in the alphabet.

"Weasley, Simon!"

It came too fast.

"Come on anything but Gryffindor," muttered Gregory.

"Go, go, Gryffindor," whispered Lione.

"Lio," Gregory snapped.

Lione grinned and Joseph chuckled.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"YES!"

Thankfully Gregory's cry of joy was covered up by the cheering of the Ravenclaw table. Lione and Joseph groaned

"In your face," Gregory said to them.

"Who says that?" Lione asked.

"You're just miffed because you don't get to watch me suffer."

"Or me," I volunteered.

"Oh yes," said Lione, blandly. "We're totally miffed."

"I'm miffed," groaned Joseph.

At the top table Dumbledore stood up and the hall went silent. Gregory stared at him as if trying to find out what was happening telepathically. Lione bent over giggling. Joseph shushed the people around us so he could hear what was being said and even I bit my lip anxiously, waiting for the answer. Although, not the answer to life the universe and everything because that's 42. Sorry, Lione made me put that in...

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he announced. "Boys and Girls." He looked around at the hall. "You all seem to be expecting something."

Clearly we weren't the only ones who knew something was up but didn't know what exactly.

"So," he continued, whipping off his hat. He reached in and pulled out none other than a white rabbit. "Tah dah!" he declared.

There was laughter throughout the hall. Dumbledore beamed at everybody. He replaced the rabbit in the hat then replaced the hat on his head.

"Eat up," he said.

There was a groan all round the hall. Lione burst out laughing. So, worryingly, did several other people. Obviously we weren't the only ones in this situation.

Dozens of dishes appeared on the tables, every food you could imagine as well as several you'd never think of. Everyone immediately began to load up their plates and dive in.

"I know what it is," said Gregory, waving a chicken leg at Lione accusingly. "It's Americans isn't it? They don't play quidditch, they play quiddit. A whole ton of Americans are coming over here so we're having a quiddit cup instead to make them feel more at home."

"Absolutely," said Lione with certainty.

"Really?"

"Nope, you're miles away."

"Like those Americans," said Joseph mashing cheese into his baked potato. "Give it up, Asher. She's never going to spill. You should know her that well by now."

"Why thank you, Starsy," said Lione, bowing slightly.

Joseph shrugged and reached for the baked beans.

"Are you talking about Sammy's thing?" Anya asked, leaning in.

As well as Laura, Anya, Samuel and Robert were other Gryffindors in our year. Samuel or Sammy as he was sometimes called was a slightly chubby and careful but bright boy. Robert's dad was a famous Muggle chef but it didn't seem to have affected him as at that moment in time he was making a ketchup and watercress sandwich - using a slice of chicken and a slice of ham instead of bread. Anya lived at an orphanage and was very sarcastic about the image that gave off. In truth she was about as far off from the 'Annie' image as you could possibly get (She couldn't sing to save her life).

"Sammy?" said Gregory. "He knows?"

"His dad is a teacher," said Lione absentmindedly. "Of course he knows."

"Lione knows?" said Anya.

We nodded.

"This is not fair," she protested. "Lione, Samuel and Laura know, all the sixth years and above know, all the teachers keep grinning knowingly and the kids back home keep saying cryptic things about 'visitors' and 'challenges'. Why won't someone just tell me what's going on!"

"Visitors?" said Gregory. "I told you! Americans! Come here taking all those pictures."

We stared at him.

"What?" he said. "That's what they do. I've been to Trafalgar square... One of them said I had nice pants."

He looked terrified at the prospect. Lione cracked up again.

"You've got to stop this, Greg," she said, gasping for air. "I've laughed so hard this afternoon that I think I may have cracked a rib."

"Were your trousers low or something?" Robert asked, licking ketchup off his fingers.

We stared.

"When you were in Trafalgar Square," he prompted. "When one of them said you had nice pants."

"No," quivered Gregory.

"Pants is American for trousers," said Joseph.

Gregory breathed an obvious sigh of relief. "Why couldn't he just say trousers?" he asked.

"It comes from 'Pantaloons'," Joseph informed us. "It's an old tailor's term."

We stared at him; we seemed to be doing that a lot.

"What?" he asked uncomfortably. "It is... I read it in a book."

"About trousers?" Lione queried.

"About the history of London actually."

Gregory shook his head in disbelief. "What do trousers have to do with London?"

"Most people in London wear them," I volunteered.

"Well pointed out that girl," said Lione.

Joseph frowned. He had a certain look on his face that I recognised. You see Joseph never forgets anything. People often misunderstand that and wonder why those sort of people aren't the smartest people in the world. Don't get me wrong, Joseph's smart. But it's important to remember that intelligence is about making connections. Just because you have all the facts in your brain doesn't mean that you can make the connections. Of course Joseph can - I'm not saying he can't. But sometimes with large problems it takes him a bit of time to... sort of... sift through all the information in his brain, put it all together and draw a sensible conclusion. The look on his face was the one that came when he was doing exactly that. His lips were mouthing the words 'six years and above', 'Challenges', 'No cup', 'Visitors', 'five years' and finally 'It can't be?' He said this aloud.

"It can't be what?" I asked.

It sounded like Starsy was on to something and I wanted to know what it was.

"It can't be-" he stopped, looked around edgily, then leaned over to Lione and whispered in her ear.

"You're right," she cried, laughing with genuine surprise. "How did you figure that out?"

"I just put the clues together," he replied with a shrug.

"What?" said Gregory. "What is it?"

Joseph smiled. "Remember last year?" he said.

"Yes," said Gregory eagerly.

"When Melanie got into Gryffindor."

"Yes," he repeated, confused.

"And you laughed at me."

"Yes," he said warily.

"Even though you must have known Simon was going to come this year and you would go though exactly the same thing." Joseph was grinning incredibly wide now.

"Yes," his voice now slightly frightened.

"Well that's why I'm not going to tell you."

Gregory groaned.

"But if you wait ever so patiently," said Joseph in the tone of someone telling children to listen out for Father Christmas, "Dumbledore will tell you."

Gregory groaned and flopped his head down onto the table, narrowly missing his mashed potato. Robert, who knew us too well, wordlessly handed over the ketchup to the outstretched hands of Lione, Joseph and myself. Anya giggled as the bottle perched over Asher's head making him sit up suspiciously sending a large blob down his neck.

"Aaaoorgh!"

I'd never heard him shout that loud.

After everyone had eaten the food vanished and Dumbledore stood up.

"Apparently," he declared. "Our little secret has got out and many of you already know what special thing is happening. Some of you, I gather, merely have an inkling that something is going on but do not know what it is. I assume that that number has grown significantly now I have said this."

"Get on with it," muttered Anya.

"I expect," continued Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "That you are looking forward to the announcement I am about to make. So here we go."

Half the people in the hall slid forward on their seats. The other half grinned at each other knowingly. One student reached down the back of his robes to try to dislodge the tomato ketchup there.

"Hogsmeade-"

There was an all round groan, a burst of laughter and an 'ooh' as the sauce slipped lower.

"Is out of bounds to everyone except third years and above who have parental permission. The forbidden forest is, as its name suggests, forbidden. Anyone spending time around the lake is advised not to agitate the giant squid and finally-"

There was a gasp of expectation.

"My aunt is sick."

Dumbledore looked round at the hall expectantly while all the students said "huh?" and the teachers buried their faces in their hands.

"I thought you might be interested," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Get on with it!" Gregory shouted.

There was laughter and a few agrees.

"Oh," said Dumbledore, sounding surprised. "That's not what you wanted to know?"

"No," chorused the hall to my delight.

"Oh," cooed Dumbledore, feigning realisation. "Oh you want to know about that."

"Yes!"

"Well I'll tell you."