September 22, 1997 || Monday
Characters: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Samuel Harper, and Professor Flitwick.
Setting: Monday. Main Entrance Hallway. After lessons (4:50PM-ish).
Summary: Apparently Justin's little
journal entertainment has once again struck a negative cord with Samuel Harper. In revenge the slytherin doubles the stakes with a similar...
charm that leaves the Hufflepuff slightly humiliated in the presence of one of his more favoured professors.
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Status: Complete
Justin had been in the process of retiring to the Hufflepuff commons after spending most of his afternoon in the Library. It'd been a terribly long day and he was already looking forward to a nap before supper. Not only had he still had a good deal of homework to do for tomorrow’s double Defense lessons he'd found himself drowning in emotional waters. As was to be expected his attempt to not...think about his weekend fiasco with Susan wasn't going as planned. Granted, the frequented glares from those girl's in his house weren't helping matters much either. In all honesty, it seemed that after they'd decided to get away from each other for awhile he was having the unfortunate habit of running into her more often than not. Not that he lingered for too long. He was relatively certain that by lunch he'd mastered the art of heading in the opposite direction when he saw her coming or going. He’d only glanced at the back of her head some thirty-seven times in Study Hall…
Thankfully such mastering of the art encouraged him to...skip lunch in its entirety. Instead he spent it in the western courtyard where it gave him the opportunity to engage in mild forms of tom-foolery through the journals. He'd finally put to test a charm he'd been writing for the books and it worked incredibly well. The fact that Samuel Harper's chicken scratch was the guinea pig seemed to make the thing ten times more amusing. The distraction even lingered on into some study hall time, despite Justin's better judgment. He couldn't help but stifle great roars of laughter in the middle of trying to focus on Muggle Studies work when he realized the charm had actually worked on Sam's entire entry.
The damn thing had taken on a mind of its own. The sixth year Slytherin's entry quite honestly read,
"Blah blah blah blah - I'm a dirty tramp. My birth name is Samuel Harper but I demand from this day forward that I be called Mr. Trampy McTrampTramp lord of Trampington! I stand on my soapbox and hand out miniature blow up Mr. Trampy McTrampTramp dolls to all those patrons of Hogwarts! These one of a kind miniatures of me come with 101 trampy sayings to tickle every tramp lover's trampy fancy! Its how I have decided to answer the call for more of my massive trampdom - which oozes by the way....but shh!! It's a trampy secret!" Clearly....brilliant.
And for the most part it helped the day seem more bearable. Despite the joys of his journal charm being successful and getting a good laugh at that prick Harper's expense he'd still managed to develop a relatively large headache. By the time the final bell of the day sounded, Justin was ready to drink some headache potion and sleep until dinner. As he made it to the ground level of the school, he'd already planned his entire walk through the commons, to his room, and that he'd not even bother taking off his shoes.
Unfortunately, as he took the first step down the stairs into the basement a very familiar voice called his name. "Mr. Finch-Fletchley! There you are, might I have a word with you?"
Justin recognized the unnaturally short form of Professor Flitwick standing by the Great Hall entrance. As he was asked he joined the charms teacher back on the main floor. "What can I do for you, sir?"
"Well, I understand that you're being considered for the curse-breaking apprenticeship Professor Babbling has access to every winter." Flitwick paused and gave the boy an expecting look.
Justin nodded a casual, “Yes sir.” He absently wondered what any of that business had to do with the charms teacher. Maybe Flitwick had done something marvelous and found him an even better opportunity. Wouldn’t that be grand? Swell...the sooner the short man spoke the sooner he could get to that nap...
