Sunday, 10 October 2010

I solemnly swear I am up to no good

Warning: the full understanding of the following anecdote, its lexicon and references depends entirely on extensive knowledge of all things Harry Potter. Failure to comply with this criterion may result in puzzlement, head-scratching and loss of interest in the author’s work. Therefore, e-readers who lack Potter literacy are strongly advised to look the other way –or down, as the case may be– to more conventional posts in this blog.

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The end of term was fast approaching, and with it came the NEWTs – Nastily Exhausting Writing Tests. This was the only reason why the creative writers found themselves working hard in the junior common room one Saturday night while the rest of the student community engaged in more traditional –albeit health-detrimental– nightly activities.

The monotonous sound of quills scribbling away on scrolls of parchment filled the otherwise silent room, until overpowered by the more appealing sound of dance music, which was coming from somewhere within the school grounds. Unable to resist the temptation, and ever eager to procrastinate, two of the students set off on a quick recon mission and found out that a wedding reception was being held in the Forbidden Forest. At the mention of this information, four of the ladies there present exchanged impish glances and, without uttering a single word, rushed out of the room.

The fantastic four reappeared only ten minutes later dressed to the nines, wearing posh gowns and high heels fit for the occasion: they were up for some serious wedding crashing. Some compliments and a few warnings later, a tap at the marauder’s map told them the exact location where the joyous (?) union was being celebrated. With a look of unflinching determination off they went.

Once inside, so gorgeous and so beautifully dressed was one of the girls –let's call her Bethany– that she attracted the attention of a handsome young gentleman the minute she set foot in the dance floor. He approached her and after exchanging greetings, to the sound of music, their conversation ensued: 

“What’s your name?” asked the man pleasantly.
“I’m Bethany. And you?”
“I’m Travis. Are you here alone Beth?”
“No, I’m with my girl friends.”
“And who are your girl friends?”
“These right here,” she said pointing in their direction.

How confident her demeanor, and how friendly her manner. But had Bethany taken another look at the map, she would have realized that she was talking to none other than the groom, who was quickly joined by the bride herself. Luckily, the couple was too happily in love to make a fuss, and simply explained that that was a private event which they couldn’t attend. Embarrassed beyond belief, and upset that their mischievous adventure had been cut short, they turned back and ran in hope of finding a portkey that would apparate them right into a hole in the ground. Sadly, they found none, and had to sprint their way back up to the common room, where their assignments awaited, still undone.  

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Disclaimer: all characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons (ie: Stephanie, Camilla, Lorenza and yours truly),  is purely coincidental. 

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