Harry walked out of the Great Hall. He had just thrown up on Ron, and Hermione was taking him to the hospital wing.
" Goodness Harry, " she said," I never that I could see bile so green and disgusting>"
Harry nodded. They walked to the Hospital Wing.
"No room!" screeched Madame Pomfrey, whipping a spoon in front of her. " No room!"
Harry looked around and saw that Madame Pomfrey was indeed right. Every bed in the infirmary was occupied.
" I thought Madame Pomfrey could fix nose bleeds and things in an instant," Hermione whispered to Harry, as Madame Pomfrey hurried out a group of second years seeing their friend.
" Yea I know," Harry replied leaning into her," Fred and George put some type of charm that keeps it going until they eat the other piece of he candy.”
“I just hope that some of them didn’t lose the other piece,” Hermione hissed, looking over to a boy who looked as if he was shriveled from loss of blood.
Madame Pomfrey walked back over to them. She pressed her cold and wrinkled hand to Harry’s forehead. Clucking, she looked at the vomit down the front of his shirt.
“ Pudenda Virus. Nothing I can do to fix it instantly. I can only give you this medicine.” She jammed a spoon of blue liquid down Harry’s throat, “ and hope for the best.”
She looked at Hermione. “ I suggest that Harry goes back up to the dormitory and stay the rest of the day. I would let him stay here, but all the beds are full.” They nodded and walked out the Hospital Wing.
Harry walked up winding stairs and past insulting suits of armor.
“ You stink,” said one knight.
“Yea I know stupid,” Harry replied angrily,” I just threw up on myself.” The knight chuckled and apologized.
Harry sidled up to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
“ Password?” she asked.
The Fat Lady nodded, and the picture swung open with a loud creak. Harry climbed the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. As he passed the large picture window beside his bed, he saw a tall gliding figure, well gliding into the woods. As Harry lay back on the bed, letting his blankets swallow him, he wondered, “ Is that a dementor? No, it can’t be…” As the warmth surrounded him, he closed his green eyes. Little did he know that Dumbledore had come into the dormitory and had stolen all of Harry’s sickles.
The next morning at breakfast, the trio all looked like raccoons on crack. Dean Thomas looked as though someone had lit a fire under his butt, and it appeared as f Seamus was taking drugs again. Neville, though, appeared to be fine.
“ Really,” he said brightly, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth, “ You guys should be more cheerful. It’s a wonderful day.”
All of them looked out of one of the huge windows plastered in the Great Hall. It was raining and was coming down in hard torrents off of the roof.
“ Shut up Neville.” Hermione looked up, as a loud screech filled the hall. Owls swooped down and dropped parcels into dishes and plates. One dropped in front of Harry. He quickly opened it. It read as follows:
We want you to say and Ram house. (At this point Harry said, “ It’s RON!”) We don’t’ want those dementoid things near the house because of you. So, don’t come back this summer.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.
Harry’s eyes lit up at the news. He looked up to tell Ron, but the smile slid off his face like jam when he saw that Ron had received a howler.
“ Open it!” hissed Hermione through her teeth.” If you don’t, you’ll only make it worse.”
Ron carefully opened the white and smoking envelope. When he did, a thundering voice filled the hall and trembled Snape's hair. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Mrs. Weasely. It was the twins. And they were singing a horrible but finny song.
“ RON MASTERBATES, MASTERBATES, MASTERBATES, LITTLE RON MASTERBATES, SO DON’T SHAKE HIS HAND.YAY!”
A roaring silence filled the hall. Ron stood up, as his face grew redder than his hair.
“ I do not masturbate!” he screamed. “ I only touch the tip.” And with that, he slammed out of the hall. Laughter chased him up the stairs.
Up at the High able. Dumbledore was whispering to Professor McGonalgall.
“Honestly, the boy shouldn’t be ashamed.” He said to her.” I do it myself once in a while.” He patted her shoulder. Minerva inched her chair away and reminded herself to wash her robes.