Cloudy

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The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead.

Ashlyn yawned as she slumped onto her seat at the Great Hall. She hardly got an hour's sleep last night. She lay awake worrying about everything. She had even made up twenty-nine situations that seemed outright ridiculous in her head, some even included aliens coming and abducting Dumbledore. 

Today better be good. Ashlyn stared at her porridge, and then sighed, throwing her head back. 

She looked ahead when something caught her eye. Cedric was waving over to her form the Hufflepuff table. 'Good morning' he mouthed. She wished it was. She smiled and waved back.

'Guess today might not be that bad' Ashlyn thought, feeling slightly better. Cedric had a smile that was contagious. 

"Today's not bad . . . outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures . . . damn it, we're still with the Slytherins. . . ."

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down. 

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah . . . and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning.

The usual flapping of wings announced the arrival of the post. Dawn swooped down and gave Ashlyn a note, drank from her goblet of pumpkin juice, gave a cheerful hoot, and flew away. 

"What is it about?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno. I'll check it later" Ashlyn said as she stuffed it inside her robes. "I'm too tired to bother right now. Today is going to be a disaster,"

Sure enough, it was.

Herbology, they had to deal with bubotubers.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus —"

"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Ashlyn didn't exactly enjoy the class, but it was not that bad. She only had to close her eyes in disgust when she squeezed the pods and shuddered every time she heard a squelch. 

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"No. Please, no" Ashlyn whimpered as she realized what was coming. If it wasn't for her affection towards Hagrid, she would have walked away that very instant.

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