//------------------------------// // Scootaloo's Monday // Story: Scoti Alaw Prewett // by SamuelK28 //------------------------------// Unsurprisingly, the rest of the week did not prove to be a quiet affair. On Wednesday Professor Sprout was fuming after vital information surrounding the Hufflepuff Quidditch trials were leaked and released in a Special Edition of the School Newspaper. She promptly gave the school editor, fourth year Ravenclaw Joanne Macgyver, detention for the rest of the term. This also meant that Scootaloo and her compatriots constantly had to bear witness to students whispering, joking and making snide remarks behind their back for the majority of the remainder of the week. Eventually, this led to the girls opting to barely set foot outside their common room aside from lessons, early morning flights and Sweetie getting the cast removed of her nose in the infirmary. Professor Sprout even had their meals sent to the common room feeling it was probably for the best that the girls were attempting to steer clear of trouble for once. After acquiring the new brooms on Saturday morning along with a gift basket of sweets and chocolates for each of her team, the following Monday the gaggle of Hufflepuffs convened upon the training fields at 6am sharp for their first proper training session. “Alright guys and gals. I know the last few days haven’t been easy for any of us and I’m pleased you’ve all still turned up this morning.” Scootaloo began. “Pfft, like we’d let them get to us. They’ll all be eating their words soon enough.” Tamsin interrupted. “Personally, I can take it for a Nimbus 2000. The fellow third year boys scoffed when I told them you were buying every member of the team one. They are going to be so jealous.” Anthony smirked. “Also, I’d like to shut a few of those doubters up with a bludger to the face on the pitch. And thanks for the sweets.” He finished munching on a chocolate bar.” “Yeah, lets show them what Hufflepuffs are really made of.” Susan cackled, hugging her new broom with glee. “I want that newspaper editor to go home bald during the summer.” Sweetie growled. “Or vomiting slugs.” Heidi suggested. Looking around their misfit crew, both Pomona and Scootaloo smiled knowingly at each other. They were pissed at being written off so easily and weren’t going to go down without a fight. * “Woah, calm down Susan and save the anger for the match in a few months, that bludger nearly took my head off.” Scootaloo winced. A cackle of pure madness was all she got in return. She’d unleashed a monster. “Yow. Find somebody else to target you jerk.” She heard Tamsin grumble once again. A second cackle of pure lunacy. Correction, two monsters. Overall Scootaloo was extremely pleased with how the session had gone. Along with the rage and injustice her team were feeling over the newspaper article and teasing from their fellow peers, the quality broomsticks had seriously assisted in a marked improvement from last week. Professor Sprout had set up some makeshift rings and they’d started their training with a real simple training exercise. Herself and Sweetie would defend the hoops while Cedric, Tamsin and Heidi worked at attempting to score fifteen times in an hour. Susan and Anthony were simply instructed to direct the bludgers at whoever they felt like and were doing an unbelievable job at doing so. Sweetie and Heidi had both taken shots to the ribs, Cedric got caught on his ankle and Scootaloo herself had suffered a heavy blow on her arm guard. And that was just Susan’s hits, poor Tamsin had been targeted relentlessly throughout by Anthony and probably had more spots on her than a dalmatian right now. She could barely believe the remarkable transformation in her two Beaters from two simple actions. Her three Chasers were developing just as well, sending her zigzagging left and right as they constantly adapted their strategy to score goals. As an exasperated Sweetie saved yet another shot from Cedric Scootaloo looked at her watch and cried. “TIME. Excellent work everyone. If you keep up with this work rate and enthusiasm, I’m sure we can surprise a few of the other houses this year. Heidi, Cedric, Tamsin, don’t feel bad about only getting thirteen goals, if that was any other keeper, you’d have easily scored twenty. Look after your brooms and I’ll see you all tomorrow evening.” Scootaloo bellowed through the crisp morning air. “I’m going for a bath. I hate you Anthony, I really do.” Tamsin grumbled lowering herself to the ground and gingerly making her way back to the castle followed by Heidi. Just another cackle was heard in reply as Anthony and Susan lowered themselves to the ground and walked off to get some breakfast, deep in conversation with each other. As Scootaloo landed herself, she heard Cedric’s voice to her left. “What we might lack in ability, we certainly make up for in team spirit.” Scootaloo couldn’t help but smile once more and let out a laugh. “That we do Cedric, that we do.” * “So, shall we see what’s on the agenda today?” Scootaloo asked her cohorts at breakfast, before munching her fifth slice of toast while sipping a cup of tea. She’d no longer had to sneak them in after gaining a permission slip from Professor Trelawney allowing her to have tea at breakfast. Meghan groaned. “Are you going to do this every morning?” “Yes, yes I am.” Scootaloo smiled wickedly looking at the remnants of her cup to see what it had on offer today. “Oh shit. The bull, that’s not a good start. Bones, brilliant more misfortune surmounted with courage and antlers. So, I’m going to have a painful and misfortunate accident today that I’m going to overcome with courage and bravery. Sounds interesting.” Scootaloo finished cheerily. Her friends just stared at her. “What?” “That does not sound like something to be cheerful about.” Meghan deadpanned. * “YOW” Scootaloo screamed as Madam Pomfrey plucked yet another spike from her buttocks. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” she screamed. Despite her premonition and warning, all had seemingly been going fine in Herbology. All they’d been doing was repotting a number of various harmless plants. Then towards the end of the lesson Neville had disturbed a Puffapod causing it to release its spores on her. She’d become dizzy and disorientated and ended up tripping over their bag of dragon compost arse first onto a Spiky Bush. The pain was excruciating. Having the aforementioned spikes removed from said buttocks was ten times worse. The only thing keeping her sane right now was the excruciatingly painful things she was imagining doing to Neville in retaliation. “YOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW” she howled once more. “There, last one.” Madam Pomfrey sighed. Extracting the six spikes had been no easy feat and even with her vast expanse of knowledge nothing had been able to ease the poor girl’s pain aside from possibly resorting to using Draught of Living Death, which she definitely did not wish to have to do. “Thank fuck for that.” Scootaloo cursed once more absolutely exhausted from the ordeal. “I’m just going to apply some Murtlap Essence to ease the pain although I’d advise not sitting down for a little while.” Madam Pomfrey explained. “Will I still make it to Transfiguration third period? We’re casting our first spell today?” Scootaloo pleaded Madam Pomfrey thought it over for a moment. She’d have ideally liked to keep the girl in for the rest of the day for observation but knew she’d be utterly miserable if she did so and she’d already suffered enough for one day. “Well okay, but you’ll have to stand throughout and I want you back here by the end of the day so I can double check your buttocks is healing correctly.” Scootaloo’s mouth curved into the biggest smile imaginable. “Before I let you go though, my scans have revealed a small fracture on your right arm. You’ll need to drink some Skele-Gro before I can dismiss you and you’ll have to wear this cast for the rest of the week just to be on the safe side.” Scootaloo’s face dropped. She remembered having to drink the vile liquid when she went to St Mungo’s to get her broken ribs checked out. It was vile and took her three attempts to swallow. Even Sweetie’s cooking was more appeasing. Her mind shifted from thinking about ways of torturing poor Neville to ways she could torture Susan. * Scootaloo darted through the Discord tower. Amazingly, it had taken Madam Pomfrey barely fifty minutes to do a full body scan, remove all the spikes, apply the ointment, administer the Skele Gro and apply the cast to her arm before releasing her. Scootaloo was sure the Matron could slow down time or something. Even so, she was still cutting it awfully fine in getting to Transfiguration on time and was currently flying through the Discord tower to be able to do so. That’s when she saw her friends just up ahead and sped up even more to catch up with them. As she landed just behind them, she felt her foot sink into the floor beneath her and a knowing click. At that same moment she realised she had misinterpreted the tea leaves that morning. “Misfortunate accidents, not accident. I should have just stayed in the infirmary.” She sighed to herself as a barrage of custard pies headed her way. * “Miss Prewett, I’m surprised you made it. I thought you’d still be in the infirmary after your accident this morning. Also, I see you got caught by one of Professor Discord’s many pranks on your way here.” Headmaster Dumbledore tried to hold in the laughter but was failing miserably along with all of Scootaloo’s friends and now most of the rest of the class as well. “Thanks, any chance of a little help.” The girl grumbled shaking of a piece of pie from her robes. “I’m just wondering what else is going to go wrong. Sometimes I really wish I could quell my curios mind.” “Of course,” Dumbledore said pulling out his own wand. “Scourgify.” The offending confections and goop that covered Scootaloo quickly disappeared and the girl was once more as clean as when she stepped out of the shower after Quidditch practice that morning. “Might I ask what you meant when you said what else is going to go wrong before we begin todays lesson.” Dumbledore queried. “Tea leaves this morning. I thought they predicted a painful and misfortunate accident today that I’m going to overcome with courage and bravery, when in actual fact it was painful and misfortunate accidents. So far I’ve fractured my right arm after an errant bludger caught it in Quidditch.” Scootaloo paused for a moment to glower at Susan who quickly attempted to turn her attention elsewhere. “Been stabbed in the butt six times by a damn plant and now been covered in custard pies. I can only expect that more will befall me before the end of the day.” The girl ended resigned to her fate. Dumbledore thought for a moment. Maybe it would be wise to hold back on starting the practical side of Transfiguration till Thursday. He quickly dismissed the idea, it was just coincidence, nothing more and besides, the girl had already had multiple accidents occur to her. He was almost one hundred percent sure nothing else would befall her today. In the end he opted to simply say “I see, how interesting.” And “now, shall we get on with today’s lesson?” The girls hastily took their seats as Dumbledore headed to the front of the class and began the lesson. A little perplexed he saw that Miss Prewett was still standing. “Miss Prewett, if you’d be willing to take your seat please.” “Apologies sir, not allowed to sit down for the rest of the day at least, Madam Pomfrey’s orders.” Scootaloo replied innocently too a round of giggles around the room. A red-faced Neville was trying to hide his head in his textbook. Dumbledore mentally chastised himself for being so oblivious and then continued with the beginning of the lesson. “Settle down please.” He shouted across the classroom and then in a softer tone. “Of course, Miss Prewett, my apologies for being so inconsiderate and forgetful in light of your recent accident.” “No problem.” Scootaloo said a little embarrassed. Seeing the unwanted attention he was bringing upon the poor girl, Dumbledore quickly decided to change the subject. “Thank you” was all he said in reply before getting back to the lesson at hand. “Now that we’ve covered the theoretical basics of Transfiguration, we shall be spending the remainder of this term looking over three of the most basic Transfiguration spells. As I informed you in the very first lesson, Transfigurations have a lot more complex variables involved in them than Charms, as can be seen in the Transfiguration formula. As such, they require a lot more thought and planning to be cast successfully. This is ultimately why we will be spending so much time and dedication on just a few spells this term as it will take significant time and patience for you to perform and master each of them. Once you get the basics down though you’ll find casting any type of Transfiguration spell a lot easier. To begin, I’d like you all to look at the matches on your desk and concentrating really hard repeat after me, Acus.” * The overall excitement and enthusiasm Scootaloo had initially shown for the upcoming lesson soon deteriorated as time went on and no matter how hard she tried the matchstick just would not turn into a needle. Most the class were having similar problems aside from Sweetie who had almost immediately transfigured the match perfectly into a needle with barely any effort and had subsequently been rewarded with ten points for Hufflepuff for her efforts from Professor Dumbledore. She was now trying her hardest to assist her classmates but to no real avail. In front of her Apple Bloom was once again arguing with her wand while on her left side she saw Meghan with her head on her desk having all but given up on transforming the blasted match that lay on her desk. In fact, the only other student who’d had any success besides Sweetie was Hermione who was sitting next to her. Her match had slowly turned silver and pointy from so many attempts at the spell and she’d received significant praise for her efforts even if it had resulted in her voice becoming hoarse and croaky, much to Scootaloo’s amusement. As the lesson neared its close though, Scootaloo refused to be outdone by her petulant and mocking match. With this morning’s premonition pushed to the back of her mind she looked defiantly at the match and roared “ACUS”. A pile of five thousand matches now adorned the floor where her and Hermione’s desk once was. The latter girl promptly fell upon the floor in utter hysterics. “Oh, for fuck sake.” Scootaloo grumbled, resigned to defeat on this occasion. Having heard the loud roar Dumbledore had looked over at Scootaloo along with a number of her fellow first years. The teacher was just thankful the accident had been a misfortunate one and not a painful one on this occasion. * Scootaloo stared at the pile of wood that used to be her desk, Hermione was once again in stitches on the floor next to her. Today really wasn’t her day. During lunch she’d tried to put the matchstick debacle along with everything else that had happened to her today behind her and get herself mentally prepared to start anew in Charms. It had most certainly not gone to plan. After arriving back in Class 99 in the Discord tower Professor Flitwick had spent the first half of the lesson going over the latest Charm they’d be investigating over the next few weeks, Reparo, or more commonly known as the Mending Charm. Apparently, it had been devised by a witch in the 1700s and was used to repair damage caused to the Colosseum after a fight broke out over something to do with a broom race. In fairness, Scootaloo hadn’t been paying too much attention, being to over eager to make up for the disaster that had befallen her earlier in the day. This, she had realised way to late, had been the start of her downfall as she then missed important instructions on how to cast the spell correctly. Thus, while Hermione next to her had been able to easily master the spell in barely ten minutes, reforming her goblet perfectly from the glass shards on the table, Scootaloo had spent twice as much time just working out the correct wand movement and pronunciation from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. And then, nothing, absolutely nothing. Over and over again she tried and over and over again the glass shards stared mockingly at her alongside Hermione’s perfect glass goblet. Patience running thin and with time slowly ebbing away Scootaloo had refused to be defeated and in one final huff of rage had bellowed the spell at the cursed shards. She should have learnt her lesson from Transfiguration. Anger gets you nowhere. Unfortunately, she hadn’t and that was why she’d now ended up with a bunch of kindling rather than a perfect glass goblet. Even Flitwick was snickering at her failed attempt. “Good effort Miss Prewett, although the spell’s intended aim is to mend and repair broken items, not break even more.” The Professor commented in between sniggers. After the day she’d had so far, that was the last straw for Scootaloo. “Oh, so you find that funny, huh?” She hollered indignantly and before she was totally aware of what she was doing pointed her wand at her professor and cried. “Titillando” Flitwick immediately fell to the floor in fits of giggles as tentacles engulfed and started to tickle him. The class stared at Scootaloo as if she had gone mad, the girl herself suddenly realising what she’d done. “Finite Incantatem” Apple Bloom chorused attempting to bring the spell to an abrupt conclusion. The tentacles vanished and slowly Flitwick dusted himself off and returned to his feet. “Miss Prewett, Please see me after class.” Was all he said to her as she began to pack her things away along with the other students Scootaloo groaned. Could today really get any worse? * After the class had filtered out Scootaloo stood behind her now repaired desk awaiting her fate. “Don’t be shy, come forward child. That was an awful neat bit of spell work you did there.” Professor Flitwick said jovially from the front of the class. “I’m extremely sorry sir, it has been a rough day.” Scootaloo said downcast staring at the floor as she approached the front of the classroom.” “I understand totally and do not worry, I’m not going to punish you further, especially after I antagonised you. To be fair, I have to take my fair share of the blame. What I do want though is to have a quick chat with you to ensure you have learnt your lesson. Remember what myself and Dumbledore told you on your first day?” Flitwick explained perched atop a stack of books. “Yes, my wand is very powerful, requires exceptional self-control and could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.” “Good, also if should have a tough day like today and are feeling emotional?” “To seek out one of the professors.” “Excellent. Although your strength of mind cannot be questioned in your ability to wield such a wand, I do still have some concerns over your self-control. Even from just teaching you for a short period of time, I can tell you are a good student with a heart of gold who would never intentionally wish to harm anyone. Even so, you have an impetuous and impatient nature along with a fiery temper. Combined with the wand you wield; this is just asking for trouble and disaster and is something we need to seriously work on, because your overall power seriously frightens me. To stop beating round the Spiky Bush.” Scootaloo glared daggers at him for that pun. Flitwick just chuckled softly before going on. “Dragon Heartstring is probably the most powerful readily available magical core. This does come at a price though as it is often considered the most temperamental and accident prone of all wand cores, as you have borne witness to in your lessons today. Most concerning though is its affinity to the Dark Arts and ability to perform such spells. Yes, jinxes and hexes might be fun to play on your friends for a quick laugh, but even such minor dark magic can build up overtime and corrupt your soul if not properly managed. There is no doubt that you have the strength of mind to ward of the temptations of such dark magic, but even the purest of hearts can be led astray. What was once the casting of an innocuous Tickling Hex can soon become the killing curse on a best friend or loved one without you even realising what you are doing till it is too late. I saw so many of my former students corrupted by dark magic during the Wizarding War, and so many more perish because of their actions. I don’t think I could bare to see yet another turn and perform such heinous acts, especially one with such raw potential as yourself. Please Miss Prewett, promise me, promise me that no matter what your future holds you shall not be corrupted by such power. Always remember that with great power comes great responsibility and that you have friends and family that can help you through dark times.” Flitwick rambled on as the tears welled in his eyes. Scootaloo had paid the utmost attention to the Charms professor throughout his speech. Only now did she shakily utter some words. “I promise sir and I will remember what you have said. On my life I promise I will never let the darkness take a hold of me and only try to bring joy, happiness and chaos into this world.” She finished resolutely. “Thank you, you are free to go now my dear. I wouldn’t want to make you late for your next lesson” Flitwick replied with a sniffle as he dabbed at his eyes with a pristine white handkerchief. “Are you sure you’ll be alright sir? I’m sure Madam Hooch wouldn’t mind if I was a few minutes late.” “No, no. I’ll be fine and have to get a move on myself. I’ve a fourth years Charms class to teach halfway across the school!” He forced out a chuckle pushing the girl towards the door. I’ll see you on Thursday and please, remember what I said” The door slammed shut in her face before she could even think of a reply. Slightly baffled, Scootaloo opted not to press her luck even further, deciding to simply heed her professor’s latest warning. Even so, she thought to herself as she wandered the halls towards the training fields, there wasn’t any harm with a little bit of mischief here and there, was there? And she had to know how to defend herself. Yes, she knew the unforgivable curses were despicable and, well, unforgiveable, but surely there wasn’t really that much harm in jinxes and hexes, otherwise Discord would most certainly have warned and forbidden her and her classmates from practising them. Heck, he most certainly wouldn’t have given each of the students a book on them, would he? No, of course he wouldn’t. Her mind in a complete kerfuffle, she exited the school onto the training fields. * Flitwick didn’t bother heading to his fourth years Charms class, instead he returned to his office. The exact same one where the unspeakable had happened in 1977. He set up his floo and was relieved that Albus was in his own office, seemingly sorting through a mass of paperwork. “Filius, this is rather a surprise, don’t you have a class right now?” Dumbledore said with concern. “That’s why I’m calling. I was hoping you could cover. Miss Prewett lost a bit of control in 1st year Charms and before she knew it cast the Tickling Hex upon me. Nothing major and thankfully one of her friends is already aware and capable of performing the General Counter-Spell. Still, I’ve just spent the majority of the afternoon break talking to her about self-control and how quickly dark magic can corrupt a person and turn them against those they love without them even really knowing it.” Filius ended with a sigh, shaking slightly. “1977?” Was all Dumbledore said in reply. “1977.” Flitwick replied with a nod of his head. “Say no more. Take the afternoon off, I’ll find something to cover the class with. Hope you feel better soon” Was all Dumbledore replied with. “Thank You.” Flitwick cut the floo connection before heading to his private quarters to acquire a jacket. * After the day she’d had, Scootaloo was in no mood to tempt fate further and her current injury kind of prevented her from riding a broom anyway. Thus, she spent the flying lesson at one of the broom care stations ensuring Broomy was well polished and had no out of place twigs. Afterwards she had made her way as promised back to the infirmary where Madam Pomfrey had checked her behind and applied some more Murtlap Essence. “Wonderful, the wounds are healing nicely and you should be fine by morning, but I’ll need you to come in just make sure. Still, you might find sitting for prolonged periods of time this evening uncomfortable and I’d advise trying to sleep on your side or front tonight.” The Matron diagnosed. “Thanks, for everything. After the day I’ve had I think I’m just going to try and have a quiet evening, if fate doesn’t try to intervene once again.” Scootaloo joked before turning and heading for the door to the infirmary. “Please do, I’ve already lost count of the number of times you and your friends have been in here and it’s only the third week of term.” Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Oh, and one more thing, try not to get that cast wet.” “Sure thing” Scootaloo called back exiting the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey collapsed into a chair. Those girls would be the death of her one day. * Thankfully for Scootaloo it seemed that her streak of misfortune had come to an end. After being mercilessly teased over the day’s events during dinner by her friends, Apple Bloom had very kindly then offered to help her in going over the Forgetfulness Potion before tomorrow’s Potions lesson. As the clock ticked eight, she had pulled herself from one of the many armchairs that dotted the Hufflepuff Common Room and had headed to the fifth floor once more to utilise the privilege of the Prefect’s bathroom. After a luxurious bath and with the troubles of the day put behind her she didn’t notice the staircase she was on moving till it was to late. “Crap. Just my luck.” Scootaloo grumbled to herself. “I wonder how long it’ll be till it moves again. My wings are still too wet to attempt to safely fly down. Oh well, might as well see if I can find another way down” she said opening a door onto a dark unlit corridor. “Hmm, well that’s inviting.” Shrugging her shoulders, she made her way along the creepy cobweb filled corridor, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim gloom, until she came across yet another door. It opened with a soft click and as it slowly opened Scootaloo poked her head through to see where this latest corridor would take her. “Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr” Scootaloo looked up as a massive glob of drool fell atop her head. Her face paled as she saw the great beast that loomed above her. What the fuck was a Cerberus doing in the castle? Then she remembered, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death. “Oh fuck.” One of the heads lunged for her. She was quicker, slamming the door shut and hurtling back to the staircase. Thankfully it had once again moved and she was able to sprint at top speed back to the Huffepuff Common room and her dorm room. The girls stared at her as the door to their dorm room slammed open. “Scootaloo, what’s wrong?” Apple Bloom asked. “Stairwell, wrong turn, third floor corridor. Cerberus.” Scootaloo blubbered making little sense. “What?” Sweetie said looking completely perplexed. “The staircases moved while she was on them. Rather than being sensible and patient, as we all know Scootaloo isn’t” Apple Bloom began “HEY!” Scootaloo interjected. Apple Bloom ignored the interruption, “she went looking for another way down not realising the stairs had brought her to the forbidden section of the castle. That was until she encountered a Cerberus, at which point she probably pissed herself and fled back here.” Apple Bloom finished deciphering Scootaloo’s incoherent babble for her roommates. “Am I right?” “All except the part where I pissed myself.” Scootaloo grumbled. Apple Bloom giggled. “Obviously haven’t seen your trousers then.” “What?” Scootaloo looked at her trousers, nothing. “Made you look.” Apple Bloom giggled once more. “Very mature.” Scootaloo deadpanned, unimpressed. “Err girls, sorry to interrupt, but shouldn’t we be discussing the matter of a giant three headed dog being locked away in the castle?” Sweetie interrupted. “Oh, that’s easy, the Cerberus back in Equestria guards the gates of Tartarus. Makes total sense that this one is also guarding something and seems the only logical explanation for having something so ludicrously dangerous in a school.” Apple Bloom reasoned. “What I’d like to know is what? Must be something pretty valuable to risk the welfare of the students.” “Oh no, if you five want to go and become puppy chow, feel free to, but I’ve more important things to concern myself with. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going too bed before something else happens to me today.” Scootaloo gave her opinion on the matter at hand, stripping off to her pyjamas underneath as she made her way over to her bed and jumped in. The wooden struts supporting the mattress immediately gave way and with a mighty crash the girl and mattress fell to the floor. “I hate Mondays.” Scootaloo grumbled as the rest of the girls broke out into raucous laughter.