quiet murmurs and laughter surrounded the hufflepuff as he sat at his house’s table in the great hall, porridge sliding down his face and landing on his copy of the daily prophet with a SPLAT! he didn’t look back at the slytherins who snickered and left pointed fingers in their wake, but instead lifted his newspaper and did his best to shake off the bits of slimy oats that coated the front page. he opened it and continued reading, disregarding the warm spots all over his head and the front of his robes. “the holyhead harpies are looking for a replacement seeker. that’s pretty cool.”







