Chapter 3 : Parseltongue
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When Scorpious finally turned up in Herbology, Albus was full of questions – most importantly,
“Where have you been?”
“Quidditch practise, for the trials. Didn’t you know?”
“No,” he paused “or I would have come.”
“Never mind!” exclaimed Albus suddenly.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“Erm....” Said Albus, looking at his timetable “think it’s flying lessons.”
Scorpious, Albus and Jackson, a Muggle Born who they had both met earlier on that day, walked over to where the flying lessons were going to be taking place. They were not far off from where the Quidditch pitch and Albus was excited to see how vast it was. It was huge!
Shortly some Slytherins arrived, who they were to be sharing the flying lesson with. A boy called Vin who Albus had already taken a disliking to was amongst them. When Vin spotted Albus, he gave a natsy glare and turned away.
After waiting a while for the teachers to come, Albus, Scorpious and Jackson decided to take the flying lesson themselves since they had convinced themselves to be excellent flyers.
“HUSH!” yelled Jackson at their pupils.
They were silent.
“Today,” began Jackson.
“We will be teaching you how to fly,” finished Scorpious.
“So listen carefully to what we have to say,” Albus told them.
“First stand on the-“
But Jackson was interrupted by the real flying teacher arriving
“And may I ask what are you doing, ” she said "actually don't tell me. Save your breath for my office."
Albus, Scorpious and Jackson nervously followed Professor Slano to her office. When they arrived at the box-room office, Slano demanded an answer to her question.
“Well... er...we...er...thought maybe that...er...you maybe not come,” stammered Jackson anxiously.
“Er...yeah, “said Albus, who was now standing in Professor Slano's office alongside Scorpius and Hugo for their detention.
“And may I ask you why you thought that I might not come?” she said coldly.
“As a matter of fact I was in a very important meeting to do with the Sapphire of Slytherin,” she said, peering over her half moon spectacles.
“Did you find out anything?”Albus asked, eagerly
“Nothing for your brain,” she replied waving her hands in the direction of the door and telling them to go back to their common room.
“That means something,” Albus murmured under his breath.
“What was that?”Slano questioned looking up from her desk.
“Er...nothing,” said Jackson.
“Yes there was and you didn`t say it. You two go; flee it was him,” she said pointing at Albus, her lips turning into a nasty smile. Slano beckoned him closer.
“So you speak Parseltoungue do you?”She said expecting an answer.
“Yes you do,” she said.
“I don`t, “
“You do. I heard you only a moment ago!”She exclaimed.
“Then what did I say?”Albus asked.
“I don`t know. What did you say?” she said curiously.
“I didn`t say anything! Honestly! I speak English,” he said innocently.
“You should be in Slytherin you,” she said “what with a talent like that.”
“The sorting hat knows and it put me in Gryffindor,” he said “can’t come back to that.”
“No true Gryffindor can speak Parseltongue.”
“Yes they can!” exclaimed Albus indignantly “my dad did!”
“Well then he’s not a true Gryffindor,” she said, sticking to her point.
“He is! He is! Dumbledore said,” said Albus.
“Well Dumbledore is dead.”
“He knows more than you though.”
“I have had enough of your arrogance,” she said “go. Detention. Tomorrow. Twelve thirty. Go.”
The next day was Saturday. The golden, autumn leaves danced in circles on the Quidditch pitch, ready to be swept away as the Gryffindors trooped on to the pitch for the trials. Albus, Hugo and Scorpious were ready; but nervous.
The position Albus was hoping to get was a Seeker. He hoped that he could keep up the tradition his father had set when he was just eleven years old too.
The new Gryffindor Quidditch captain was Katie Bell’s younger brother; Sam Bell.
He called out the different positions to play and asked people to put their name down. Albus grabbed his quill out of his scarlet Quidditch robes and wrote his name:
Albus Severus Potter
In his scrawling writing. Soon about thirty names were on the list.
Sam waved his wand and the names rearranged themselves into alphabetical order.
“Aiden Pint!” Sam called.
Aiden picked up his Nimbus 2500 and leapt on to it, soon flying upwards. Sam threw up a golden Snitch and told Aiden to go and catch it.
It was obvious from watching that Aiden had had hardly any Quidditch experience and in the end, Sam had to send him off for taking too long.
“Albus Severus Potter!” he yelled “Seeker!”
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