Post-Yuletide cheer hadn’t quite stretched into Wednesday, Harry thought ruefully as he squished in next to Ron, and morale was low on the Eighths’ table. No wonder, with it being a good half-hour earlier than usual. It was just the Eighths as well who were up early, and Harry had no idea what special announcement McGoons was going to make that required half a fucking hour of their time, this early in the morning as well. So that was how three days into the new term, breaking point was reached. The situation was hardly improved by four consecutive owls dive-bombing Hermione’s brekkie, one owl crushing her perfectly formed egg yolk, the next leaving a feather in her porridge and the third spearing her Cumberland. The fourth, however, decided to shit into Malfoy’s elderflower cordial. This guaranteed that the whole table would never hear the end of it until, well, something more dramatic happened to Malfoy. Harry thought that owl shit could only really serve to improve the taste of Malfoy’s awful sugary fizz, but he also felt that keeping it to himself was the safer option this early in the morning. Malfoy was known for his excellent aim.
Start a Revolution (From My Bed) by @untilourapathy
