ORDER ONLY: A nail-biter
Nov. 9th, 2008 05:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alt_mcgonagallOf course the Lord Protector showed up today, Lucius Malfoy in tow.
Of course Mr Marvolo's broom showed signs of malicious tampering in the air. Of course it only showed those signs well into the game, when the Snitch had been sighted. Of course everyone and their mother screamed, absolutely screamed, when the broom began to buck.
I thought that I was through. I honestly thought so. Fortunately, the Lord Protector can - at times - be reasonable. Nevertheless, I will never have a more horrifying experience than watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the benches.
Marvolo is fine. He's a resilient boy. I shall never know how the Snitch didn't hurt him on its way down.
On the way out of the game, of course, as the crowds were leaving and the Lord Protector was safely packed away with Lucius to the Hospital Wing to get Mr Marvolo checked, I discovered another batch of trouble brewing: the dog. Weasleys Quartus and Quintus have, of course, made no secret of the dog they found by the lake; they seemed to be caring for it well, so I had let it go, as Professor Macnair posed no objections to having such a creature in his common room. But I finally saw it; and - how could they not have seen? - it was a person.
Well, and it was the Boot boy, of course, cringing as he ever was. He dissolved into tears when I asked him how he came to be a dog, and it took quite some time to elicit the story. The Carrows, of course. I knew they were hiding something. If nothing else, the incident has shown that Quartus and Quintus have their hearts in the right place: I nearly (nearly; it would have been fatal) wept at the sight of the two of them embracing Terry when he had his little tantrum. "Should've known you were too special to be just a dog," one of them said - I don't know which one. Molly, you should be proud of your boys; whatever Tertius may be, the rest of them are fine upstanding young men.
In his most pathetic way, Boot asked if he were in trouble. What could I say? "No," of course, he is most assuredly not in trouble. I imagine it must have been simply awful - even if he had done something to merit punishment, which I sincerely doubt, he must have paid for it fifteen times over by now!
And then - the Longbottoms. I am pleased; pleased, worried, and hopeful. I am terrible at expressing what I truly think sometimes.
Of course Mr Marvolo's broom showed signs of malicious tampering in the air. Of course it only showed those signs well into the game, when the Snitch had been sighted. Of course everyone and their mother screamed, absolutely screamed, when the broom began to buck.
I thought that I was through. I honestly thought so. Fortunately, the Lord Protector can - at times - be reasonable. Nevertheless, I will never have a more horrifying experience than watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the benches.
Marvolo is fine. He's a resilient boy. I shall never know how the Snitch didn't hurt him on its way down.
On the way out of the game, of course, as the crowds were leaving and the Lord Protector was safely packed away with Lucius to the Hospital Wing to get Mr Marvolo checked, I discovered another batch of trouble brewing: the dog. Weasleys Quartus and Quintus have, of course, made no secret of the dog they found by the lake; they seemed to be caring for it well, so I had let it go, as Professor Macnair posed no objections to having such a creature in his common room. But I finally saw it; and - how could they not have seen? - it was a person.
Well, and it was the Boot boy, of course, cringing as he ever was. He dissolved into tears when I asked him how he came to be a dog, and it took quite some time to elicit the story. The Carrows, of course. I knew they were hiding something. If nothing else, the incident has shown that Quartus and Quintus have their hearts in the right place: I nearly (nearly; it would have been fatal) wept at the sight of the two of them embracing Terry when he had his little tantrum. "Should've known you were too special to be just a dog," one of them said - I don't know which one. Molly, you should be proud of your boys; whatever Tertius may be, the rest of them are fine upstanding young men.
In his most pathetic way, Boot asked if he were in trouble. What could I say? "No," of course, he is most assuredly not in trouble. I imagine it must have been simply awful - even if he had done something to merit punishment, which I sincerely doubt, he must have paid for it fifteen times over by now!
And then - the Longbottoms. I am pleased; pleased, worried, and hopeful. I am terrible at expressing what I truly think sometimes.
Order Only
Date: 2008-11-10 02:50 am (UTC)All right, one thing at a time. Do you have any theories about who could have possibly jinxed the broom, and why? Does he have any theories, and what is he going to do about it? (Do you truly think he cares for the boy? It seems so strange that he, the boy's parents' murderer, would be fretting over danger to their son.)
Well, it sounds as though he has left Hogwarts again, with Harry none the worse, and all your secrets are still intact. I swear, Minerva, you really do have as many lives as a cat!
As for Carrow's servant, I confess I gasped aloud when I read your account, but why should I have been surprised at such cruelty? I know that man is capable of anything. And yet, it seems extremely odd that he was willing to do without his personal slave for a week . . . unless perhaps the boy (well, dog) simply ran away, and when the twins picked him up, Carrow didn't know where he was?
Well, that will please the twins, to have one over on Carrow. I am glad to hear what you reported, that they were kind to him. The poor lad sounds as though he could desperately use some kindness . . . even if it is a beef marrow bone and warm place by the fire.
(And I confess, I'm also glad that now the twins won't be bringing home a dog at the Christmas holiday!)
Re: Order Only
Date: 2008-11-10 03:25 pm (UTC)There are so many phantom attackers in his mind that I can scarcely offer an opinion as to his ideas about who the jinxer might be. He lists them often, comes up with new ideas, comes up with new new ideas, returns to the old ones.
He is not mad, merely paranoid, and justly so.