SnitchSeeker.com - View Single Post - It's the End of the World as We Know it & I Feel Fine or How to Save a Life

OtterySt.Catchpole · 12-12-2006, 05:38 AM

“Bloody hell,” came the familiar remark, voiced however by lips not so fondly acquainted with the phrase.

Ottery and Ron turned to look at Neville at the other end of the row across from the steps that ran down the center of the box. It was easy to spot him, he was the boy trying to disappear into his chair. As they looked up they could see exactly why he wanted to disappear. Neville’s Gran was standing by the entrance of the box flanked by two thugs on either side. Tall menacing looking chaps, they looked as if they were looking to tear something (or someone) apart, they were dressed in dark Armani suits with equally dark shades covering their eyes. Ottery waved, and they waved back. The boy raised a box of Bertie Botts to ask if they wanted any, and Luke smiled and made to come down but was stopped by Gran elbowing him. Luke was not very smart, but he was sweet.

“Seriously, ladies first lads,” Gran exclaimed. “I remember the days of gentlemen and chivalry,” the old Belle dame complained.

“She was around during the middle ages?” Ron remarked under his breath.

“Men would actually tip a hat to a lady,” Gran was saying taking one of the thug’s hands for support as she walked down the center stairs. Cornelius Fudge ran up to greet her, and he smiled cautiously despite the mean glares from the sunglasses and suit-wearing thugs surrounding her.

“Who’s the old bat?” Ron asked, and Ottery coughed a warning at him.

The vulture on her head was not just for show. Her face stared up suddenly pining both boys to the spot as if she had inhuman super hearing. Ottery smiled nervously and almost fainted, while Ron gulped in embarrassment and turned every shade of red.

They were saved however by Luke Spencer, who had chosen just that moment to walk back from making the rounds of taking bets for the twins, for a cut of the profits of course. Luke was nice, he was not however a fool. He walked past the thugs and missed seeing the old lady because of them, and turned to speak to Neville.

“Bought you a ticket Longbottom. I don’t know why you think Bulgaria’s going to win, I mean Ireland’s got the stronger team … ,” he started.

“Neville!” The old bat … er, I mean the old woman yelled, turning sharply on the grey haired boy standing by her nephew.

“Flaming monkeys!” Luke exclaimed.

“Yes Gran?” Neville asked, standing at attention like a soldier reporting to a commanding officer.

“What the devil are you doing here?” she asked menacingly. Though she well knew the answer. She had had them followed.

“We’re here to see Quidditch you old bat!” Luke remarked angrily.

“Oh, bother,” the Minister said wondering what exactly he should do.

“This should be interesting,” Draco said to his father.

“Don’t gloat son, it’s unbecoming. Still, what else can you expect when you allow just any riffraff into the top box?”

“Hey!” Mr. Weasley said standing up. From either side of him Bill and Charlie took a hold of their father’s arms.

Severus buried his face in his hands. The bloody match hadn’t even started yet and the fighting was already begun. Perhaps more menacing than that somewhere flying over the English Channel a little teddy bear wearing goggles and piloting a Sopwith Camel was cackling madly as he flew ready to enact his revenge.

12-12-2006, 05:38 AM	#62 (permalink)
OtterySt.Catchpole SS Featured Artist DA Poet Rupert is My Man! SS100 Triumphant Aethonan Join Date: Jul 2004 Location: The Wicked House Posts: 18,909 Hogwarts RPG Name: Ottery St. Catchpole Gryffindor Third Year	And still more story ... too bad we have so few nice colors sighs Paris & Kellybear r luv :Read Otty 's fics:Gone With the Wind:I♥Rupert “Bloody hell,” came the familiar remark, voiced however by lips not so fondly acquainted with the phrase. Ottery and Ron turned to look at Neville at the other end of the row across from the steps that ran down the center of the box. It was easy to spot him, he was the boy trying to disappear into his chair. As they looked up they could see exactly why he wanted to disappear. Neville’s Gran was standing by the entrance of the box flanked by two thugs on either side. Tall menacing looking chaps, they looked as if they were looking to tear something (or someone) apart, they were dressed in dark Armani suits with equally dark shades covering their eyes. Ottery waved, and they waved back. The boy raised a box of Bertie Botts to ask if they wanted any, and Luke smiled and made to come down but was stopped by Gran elbowing him. Luke was not very smart, but he was sweet. “Seriously, ladies first lads,” Gran exclaimed. “I remember the days of gentlemen and chivalry,” the old Belle dame complained. “She was around during the middle ages?” Ron remarked under his breath. “Men would actually tip a hat to a lady,” Gran was saying taking one of the thug’s hands for support as she walked down the center stairs. Cornelius Fudge ran up to greet her, and he smiled cautiously despite the mean glares from the sunglasses and suit-wearing thugs surrounding her. “Who’s the old bat?” Ron asked, and Ottery coughed a warning at him. The vulture on her head was not just for show. Her face stared up suddenly pining both boys to the spot as if she had inhuman super hearing. Ottery smiled nervously and almost fainted, while Ron gulped in embarrassment and turned every shade of red. They were saved however by Luke Spencer, who had chosen just that moment to walk back from making the rounds of taking bets for the twins, for a cut of the profits of course. Luke was nice, he was not however a fool. He walked past the thugs and missed seeing the old lady because of them, and turned to speak to Neville. “Bought you a ticket Longbottom. I don’t know why you think Bulgaria’s going to win, I mean Ireland’s got the stronger team … ,” he started. “Neville!” The old bat … er, I mean the old woman yelled, turning sharply on the grey haired boy standing by her nephew. “Flaming monkeys!” Luke exclaimed. “Yes Gran?” Neville asked, standing at attention like a soldier reporting to a commanding officer. “What the devil are you doing here?” she asked menacingly. Though she well knew the answer. She had had them followed. “We’re here to see Quidditch you old bat!” Luke remarked angrily. “Oh, bother,” the Minister said wondering what exactly he should do. “This should be interesting,” Draco said to his father. “Don’t gloat son, it’s unbecoming. Still, what else can you expect when you allow just any riffraff into the top box?” “Hey!” Mr. Weasley said standing up. From either side of him Bill and Charlie took a hold of their father’s arms. Severus buried his face in his hands. The bloody match hadn’t even started yet and the fighting was already begun. Perhaps more menacing than that somewhere flying over the English Channel a little teddy bear wearing goggles and piloting a Sopwith Camel was cackling madly as he flew ready to enact his revenge. __________________