Rule #8: When asked in class what the Avada Kedavra curse does, yelling “It does DEATH!” may be correct but it is not the manor in which one should answer.
"James! Come on! We're going to be late for Defense!"
I turned to my best mate - also my cousin Fred - and began to follow him. As Sixth years, we were required to learn about the Unforgivable curses. Personally, I wasn't quite sure why they waited that long. I mean, everyone has known what they were since they were little kids, especially in this day and age, after the whole Voldemort tried to take over the world thing.
"I'm coming, I'm coming." I ran up to him and we strutted down the corridor together. Me and Fred were good at strutting. I was captain of the Quidditch team - a Seeker, like my Dad - and Fred was the Chaser.
And we both attracted lots of attention. All the time. Partially because we got the good-looking genes in our families. (For non-good looking genes, see my little brother Albus, or his little sister, Roxy.)
"Hey, boys." Diane Lawlor - one of our good friends - winked as we walked by.
I turned around to catch a glimpse of her arse and she walked by. It was a cute little thing. Watching her hips swing as she walked away gave me the urge I so often got - to do her.
As we walked, others tried to glance discreetly at me and Fred's greatness.
It's like I said - everything we did captured attention.
For instance, sliding into class, just as the bell finished ringing. Not on time, but not late either.
"Cutting it close, Potter. Weasley."
I just smirked and finished my strut towards the seat in the back of the class.
Meanwhile, Professor Perdita began to squeak her chalk on the board (as she often did, just to make sure we were all paying attention,) and wrote down the three Unforgivable curses.
The Imperius Curse.
The Cruciatus Curse.
And Avada Kedavra.
Fred, who'd been kicking back in his chair and staring at the back of Adrianna's (his new prospective conquest) head, was not paying attention. I elbowed him in the ribs. "Huh? Yeah, what?"
"Tell me about the Imperius Curse." Perdita hada nasty habit of picking on those who she knew were not paying attention. And almost every class that consisted of me and Fred.
"Well, it's, er . . . It's what you use when you want to control someone's actions. And it's bad."
Perdita rolled her eyes while Fred smirked. "Thank you for that elementary response, Mr. Weasley. Would you care to elaborate?"
"Umm . . . Sure. Well, this one time, me and James-"
Que slapping Fred over the gob for being so a dumb little child. "This one time we went to the library and read about these two idiots who tried it out on each other and lots of funny stuff happened. Actually."
In reality, Fred and I were those two idiots. But stupid Professor Perdita hated our guts and would just love to know what sorts of highly amusing and highly illegal activities we got up to on our own time.
But, of course, she knew it was us. (Without proof, she could say nothing. Haha!)
Perdita simply glared. "Well then, Mr. Potter. Since you seem so eager to answer, why don't you tell me about the Cruciatus curse."
I shook my head and wrinkled my nose. Then, as I did every time she asked me to answer a question I'd rather not, I kicked my legs up onto the desk, in hopes that she'd throw me out of her class.
But she did not. And simply went along to ask another person in class what the Cruciatus curse did. (Psh, like she doesn't already know.)
I thought that I had won. Alas, a few minutes later -
Ugh, what now, bitch!?
"If you won't tel me about the Cruciatus curse, how about Avada Kedarva?"
"Oh, I know aaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllll about Avada Kedavra!" I cried, and jumped up from my seat. "My Daddy taught me all about it."
These sort of scenes happened once every few weeks. When I noticed a few less people staring, me and Fred would take turns making huge scenes like this.
"It's what happens when you take your wand and point it at someone and yell, Avada Kedavra!'"
"Mr. Potter, sit down . . . And told me only how to perform the curse. How about telling me what it does?"
I took a deep breath and wiped the smirk off my face. Because, for this, I needed a completely face to pull it off.
What? You ask. I'll tell you.
"It. Does. DEATH!" All the girls in class broke out into fits of giggles, and all the guys chuckled in a very manly way.
"Pardon?" Perdita said, looking towards me like I had three heads.
"I said, 'It. Does. DEATH!'"
And, in a manner so familar to me, Perdita sighed, rolled her eyes, and pulled a torn slip of parchment from her desk. Scribbling somethin quickly on it, she beckoned for me to come to the front of the class.
"You know the drill, Mr. Potter."
And, as I had done many times before, I took the slip and made my way out of the classroom and towards McGonagall's office.
And, before I made it out the doorway, I stopped, flipped up my robes and pulled down my pants, giving everyone a fantastic view of my fantastic arse.
Then, I ran away cackling.
"And so do you, Professor!"
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