Harry Potter- The way I Tell It

Harry slowly opened his eyes. The sun was shining in through the window of his dormitory, lighting up the room. Yawning, he sat up in his four poster bed, and reached for his glasses that were lying on his bedside table. Putting them on, the world immediately swam into focus. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and got to his feet. Then, rubbing his eyes he padded across into the bathroom. Harry looked in the mirror. His hair was a tangled mess as usual. Sighing, he attempted to flatten it with water, but this only seemed to make his hair even more defiant. He was suddenly distracted from preening himself by a noise behind him.

"Morning Hedwig," Harry greeted his owl sleepily, looking at her through the mirror. Hedwig cocked her head onto one side.

"Morning Harry," she replied, as she could talk English. (No, you don't say?) "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, still messing about with his hair. "Okay I suppose. What's it like out anyway? Sunny?"

"No, it's pretty crap," Hedwig informed him in a mater of fact kind of voice. Immediately Harry spun round to face her, shocked. Hedwig had never used language like that before.

"What?!"

"I said, it's pretty crap," she repeated. "To be honest, it sucks. My feathers got all wet on the way over here. It really pisses me off, you know?"

"Hedwig!" Harry gasped in disbelief. "You're, you're...Swearing!"

"So?" Hedwig answered back insolently. "Get over it."

Harry could hardly believe his ears.

"How dare you!" He erupted. "If any of the teacher's hear you talking like that, you'll get me into so much trouble-."

"But they won't hear me talking like this," she reassured him. "I'm a smart bird Harry."

"I don't believe this!" Harry continued, outraged. "Now you're arrogant aswell!"

Hedwig flapped her wings and flew up to perch on the side of the sink.

"Top marks for observation Harry," she said sarcastically, rolling her beady eyes. "God, sometimes you can be so slow."

Harry clenched his fists with rage.

"Get out!" He yelled, losing his temper. "Get out of here right this minute, and think about what you've done!"

"No!" Hedwig cried back indignantly. "Bugger off!"

"Why you little-."

Instinctively Harry took a swipe at her, but she flew away just in time, sending Harry crashing to the ground.

Down in the main hall at breakfast that morning, Harry was explaining the situation to Ron and Hermione.

"I don't know what's got into her," He admitted, tucking into his third slice of toast. He looked at Hermione. "Has Crookshanks ever done anyting like this?"

"Crookshanks can't talk," Hermione reminded him. She noticed Harry's crestfallen expression. "Er...But if he could, I'm sure he'd be just as bad."

Harry shook his head.

"Oh, who am I kidding?" He sighed, almost to himself. "It's my fault. I'm meant to be responsible for her."

"Don't blame yerself mate," Ron said encouragingly. "Hedwig probably just overheard someone else speaking like that and decided to copy. You know what Owls are like."

"Yeah," Hermione joined in. "I was reading this book on Owl behaviour, and it said that nine times out of ten an Owl with come out with something it's picked up from someone else."

"Really?" Harry asked with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Yeah."

There was a slight pause, which was interrupted by Ron.

"So who d'ya think it could be? Cos we certainly haven't been saying stuff like that in front of her."

Harry thought for a moment. Then his face darkened as he realised.

"Malfoy," he hissed under his breath.

"What?" Hermione asked, not sure whether she'd heard right.

"It'll be that git Malfoy," Harry explained, glaring across the hall in the direction of the Slytherin table. "He'll be the one teaching Hedwig all this bad language, I just know it."

"Did somebody say my name?" A high and mighty voice asked from behind them. Ron, Hermione and Harry all turned around in unison, to come face to face with, yes, you've guessed it- Draco Malfoy.

"Well?"

"Yes," Harry answered plainly. "As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you."

"Really?" Malfoy asked slowly, giving the three of them a cold, hard stare at the same time. "Well I'm glad I'm always on your mind, Potter," he continued dryly. "After all, I am pretty damn ace. And it's such a shame you're a common Mudblood Granger, otherwise I might have taken quite a liking to you."

"Shut it Malfoy," Ron warned. He always became protective whenever anyone insulted Hermione.

"Or what?" Malfoy sneered arrogantly. "You don't scare me Weasley. None of you do," he added quickly. "You and your scratty family, you don't deserve to be at Hogwarts."

"You jammy-."

"Ron," Hermione hissed. "Just leave it."

Glaring, Ron somehow managed to keep his mouth shut. After holding his gaze for a second or two, Malfoy sniggered, thinking he was ace, before turning on his heel and starting to walk off. Harry stared at him as he disappeared across the hall, feeling the hatred build up inside him. How dare Malfoy speak that way about his friends, and all the time he'd just sat there and let him say it? Suddenly it was all too much for Harry.

"Hey Malfoy!" he found himself yelling, much to his own surprise as well as everyone elses. Malfoy stopped almost instantly, and spun round, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes?"

"You stink!" The words had escaped Harry's mouth before he'd even had a chance to think about it. Malfoy looked half shocked, half livid. He shot Harry a look of pure evil. Then he started to march back over to where the three of them were sitting.

"Harry, you moron," Hermione whispered as Malfoy approached.

"What was that Harry?" he questioned, his voice echoing off the walls of the Great Hall.

"Er...Nothing," Harry found himself squeaking, completely losing his nerve. "I didn't say anything."

"He didn't," Ron backed him up.

"Who asked you, Weasley?"

"Look, Malfoy, just calm down," Hermione attempted to resolve the situation. "You must have heard incorrectly."

"I know what I heard Granger," Malfoy snapped back, getting angrier by the second. "And he said I stink. So, Potter, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Harry stared up at his enemy defiantly.

"I'd like to elaborate," he replied cooly. He cleared his throat. "Not only do you stink Malfoy, but you are a smarmy, arrogant, infuriating little Toss-Pot with all the charisma and charm of a wet flannel." He paused. "That enough for ya?"

For a moment Malfoy looked as though he was going to cry. Then he remembered his image and tried to look as if he couldn't care less.

"Oh, boo-hoo," he mocked after a long awkward silence. "Poor lickle old me. I'll never get over this Potter," He announced dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll never get over the day that Famous little Harry Potter told me he didn't like me. Oh, how will I ever live with myself, knowing that I haven't won the affections of Howart's prize Gimp?"

"Oh, put a sock in it Malfoy," Ron told him, getting braver. "You think you're so big with your gay blond hair, standing there with your blond hair, all blond and blond coloured."

"At least my head isn't on fire!" Malfoy shot back, raising his voice and losing his composure.

"My head isn't on fire!" Ron bellowed. "I'm just auburn haired!"

"Aurburn haired my arse! Face it Weasley, you're a Ginner!"

"Well at least he's not gay!" Harry joined in, making the argument two against one. Malfoy didn't know what to say then. "Yeah," Harry carried on, knowing he'd hit a nerve. "You and that Crabbe and Goyle, always walking around together. Don't you think that's a bit strange?"

"Yes, I do," Ron answered, catching on. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Malfoy here isn't telling us something."

"Yeah, you're gay Malfoy! You're gay with Crabbe!"

"Or Goyle!"

"Or both of them!" Hermione piped up suddenly, leaping out of her chair.

"You're all crazy!" Malfoy cried, hurt. "You don't know what you're saying!"

"Oh dear, have we upset you Malfoy?" Hermione teased, smirking. "Well maybe you should think next time before you open your big fat gob!"

"You bitch!" Malfoy yelled, losing his rag. He whipped out his wand and was just about to point it at her when someone grabbed it off him from behind.

"Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on here?!" Professor McGonagall shrieked. The four of them immediately fell silent. "You're making enough noise for the whole School to hear!"

Malfoy wasted no time.

"It was Potter, Professor," he accused. "Potter, and Weasley, and Granger! Calling me names!"

"Well HE started it!" Ron shouted, determined not to take the blame. "He called Hermione a Mudblood!"

"Did not!" Malfoy yelled back indignantly. "It was that sodding Harry Potter Professor, him and his stupid-."

Professor McGonagall looked shocked.

"Draco Malfoy! We do NOT use language like that here at Hogwarts!" She snapped. "Fifty points from Slytherin!"

"Ha ha ha!" Ron taunted, a little too loudly.

"And as for you three," Professor McGonagall began, looking straight at them. "I would have expected better from you." She looked at Hermione. "Especially you Hermione. I am very disappointed in all of you." She paused, as if she was thinking something over. "But, you are in my house, so I think we'll let this one slide. After all, we don't want to go losing the house cup now do we?"

She glanced at Harry, and he could have sworn he detected a faint hint of a smirk.

"But that's not fair!" Malfoy whinged.

"Another fifty points from Slytherin!" Professor McGonagall announced sharply.

"But-."

"Ten points from Slytherin."

"You can't just-."

"Twenty points from Slytherin."

"Just you wait til-."

"Thirty points."

"Stop-."

"Forty points."

"Why do you keep doing that?!" Malfoy whined in frustration.

"Another fifty points from Slytherin," Professor McGonagall said curtly, dusting off her hands. "Well done Malfoy. You're going to be popular with your house today, seeing as you just lost them two hundred and fifty points, which, might I add, puts Slytherin in fourth place!"

"Awwwww man!" Malfoy exclaimed, defeated.

The Next Part Of The Harry Potter Story:

"Wow, Professor McGonagall sure showed Malfoy!" Ron gushed as the three of them made their way towards the Potions room. "God, did you see his face?"

Harry and Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah," Harry replied, smiling to himself. "I get the feeling he's not going to be with the Slytherin's for a while."

They were so wrapped up in their conversation they failed to realise that they were fifteen minutes late for Potions. Reaching the door, they slowly pushed it open only to be greeted with the cold, disgusted look on Professor Snape's face.

"So what is it now, Potter?" Snape sneered, with no expression in his voice. "You think you're so ace you don't have to be on time to my lesson?"

"N-No, Professor," Harry apologised, stuttering. He sank down into his seat as quickly as possible. Ron and Hermione grabbed the two seats next to him. Harry put his head down, hoping Snape would shut up.

"And I know all about what you did to poor Malfoy at breakfast this morning," Snape continued mercilessly. "You make me sick. You really do. Just who the hell do you think you are, Potter?"

Harry remained silent.

"I asked you a question!" Snape repeated, raising his voice to show he meant business.

"Er...I think I'm Harry Potter?" He ventured uncertainly. Unfortunately the words seemed to come out a little insolently.

"Oh, so you think you're Harry Potter do you?" Professor Snape mocked, enjoying every minute of it. "Well I think you're a dirty rotten little trouble maker. And I shall be having words with Professor McGonagall over her double standards!"

"Oh yeah?" Harry questioned defiantly, sick of being insulted. "What about your double standards? What about the way you always pick on me in lessons? Even when I haven't done anything it's always, 'Fifty points from Gryffindor,' or, 'For being a stupid Gimp Potter, a hundred points from Gryffindor!'" Harry continued, putting on a silly voice to impersonate the Potions master. "Well I think you're a stupid Gimp Snape! In fact, I think you're worse than a stupid Gimp. I think you're a really stupid Gimp! And while we're on the subject of insults, get hold of some shampoo quick, there's been an oil slick on your head!" By now Harry knew he had gone too far, due to the dumbstruck expressions on every single student in the class, not to mention Snape himself. His mouth was wide open in shock and disbelief. But since he'd come this far, he might as well carry on.

"And you're a git! And your clothes are gay and old fashioned! And er...Your face is ugly! Yes, that'll do...Er...Oh yeah, and you are a crap teacher! You've been trying to get hold of that Defence against the dark arts job for four years, and have you got it? No! And d'ya know why?-"

"Harry," Ron hissed, tugging at his friend's sleeve. "Don't you think that's enough now?"

"-Because you're crap at everything!" Harry yelled, ignoring Ron's advice completely. "You suck!"

A very awkward silence followed, as Harry eventually shut up and brushed his fringe out of his eyes in an attempt to compose himself. He could hardly dare to look Snape in the eye. He was really in trouble now. Something awful was going to happen. He just knew it.

Snape stared for a while. Then he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something. Then he shut his mouth again as if he'd decided not to say whatever it was he was going to say. Then he opened his mouth again. And pointed at Harry. And made some strange gurgling noises as if he was attempting speech. Then he fell silent. Harry could feel beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as he observed. Snape was obviously just biding some time to think of something really awful to do to him. Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione. They looked equally as petrified.

But they needn't have bothered, as at that moment Snape opened his mouth again. You could have heard a pin drop as every single student waited for Snape to speak.

"Er..." Snape begun eventually. He seemed to have been so shocked by Harry's outburst that he'd completely lost his mind. He looked dazed and confused, and totally out of it. Harry pulled a face, and looked to Ron for an explanation, who shrugged in reply. After a moment, Snape pointed to Harry, his hand shaking.

"Naughty Harry," he managed in a pathetic tone. "You, bad. Say bad things. Rude. Me want to...Hurt. You."

Harry gulped.

"I kill you now," Snape stuttered in broken English. "You and your wooden four legged seat."

Harry could hardly believe this was Snape talking. He was behaving like a baby. Instinctively he pulled a bewildered face.

"You mean, my...Chair?" He asked, not knowing what to think.

"Yeeeeeeees," Snape answered slowly, swaying from side to side. "It is part of conspiracy."

"I think we better get him to Madame Pomfrey," Hermione whispered as Snape began to flap his arms about wildly.

"I am a bird!" He sang, running around in a circle.

"Potter, you fool," the voice of Malfoy piped up suddenly. "Look what you've done to him. You've messed with his mind. You've driven him over the edge."

"Driven?" Snape repeated, looking up at Malfoy. His pupils had become dilated. "Messed? Messed with my driven? Blond boy confusing Snape. Snape cannot take it in. Who is this blond boy?" He questioned like a complete moron. He pointed at Malfoy, who was now glaring. "This blond boy is a silly boy. Silly boy."

"Right," Hermione announced getting up from her seat. She went over to Snape.

"Professor? I think you need to go and lie down," she suggested, trying to take his arm to lead him out of the classroom.

"Me no lie down," Snape protested. "Me kill speccy."

"Hey!" Harry found himself yelling. "Watch it!"

"What are we gonna do?" Hermione asked desperately. All at once the rest of the class leapt up.

"Throw water on him!" Crabbe called out.

"No," Goyle argued. "Lock him in the cupboard!"

"Put a curse on him!"

"Kill him!"

"Hang on!" Ron cried above the rest of the noise. He strode to the front of the class to where Snape was now twitching furiously.

"Snape cold," Snape said in a small voice. "Snape shivering." And with that he fell to the ground and curled into ball, quivering. Ron, Hermione and Harry looked on in despair.

"What he needs," Ron began. "Is a good slap in the face."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped defensively. "That's horrible!"

"Yeah, but it always works. You just need to snap him out of it. Give him a short sharp shock. Look," he raised his hand towards Snape.

"Wait!" Harry yelped. "Do we want him to snap out of it? He's gonna hit the roof when he realises what I just said!"

"Well we can't just leave him like this!" Hermione yelled back. "Go on Ron, hit him!"

Harry opened his mouth to protest but it was too late. Ron had taken a swing for Snape (who now had his eyes closed) and before either of them knew what was happening he had given him a short sharp slap right across the face. For a while it looked as if nothing was going to happen. Then...

Snape's eyes flickered open, and darted immediately in the direction of Harry.

"Potter!" Snape yelled, leaping to his feet. Harry gulped, then turned on his heels and began to run for his life. Snape took after him, arms outstretched.