Picking up the thread, A Dare Options

[McGonagall's Cat]

<title- Lavender First Picks Up The Thread>


As Lavender Brown walked down the steps to the Common Room from the Girls Dorm She noticed

(\__/)
(=’-‘=)
(“) (“)
Crookshanks

playing with a piece of thread. He seemed to have found the begining end of the thread on the steps and was rolling around, tangling it into a snarled up knot. With one swat it hurled into the Common Room, where he playfully attacked it again.

Lavender was going to breakfast and not particularly interested in the thread, until it wrapped around her ankle as she tried to walk over to her best friend Parvati Patil who was sitting near the fire waiting for her.

"What is that?" Parvati asked as Lavender untangled her foot.

"I don't know what's going on with it. I just noticed Hermione's cat playing with it on the steps over there." She answered pointing toward the stairs.

Parvati picked it up, noticing that it ran out of the room through the Portrait Hole. Since Crookshanks had lost interest and was now sitting on the rug near the fire licking his paw, she began to wrap the loose thread around and around the knot, forming a tiny ball.
She and Lavender followed the thread along, through the opening, down the hallway, wrapping the thread around the small ball as they went. They chattered on about having been invited to Trelawney's room for a private reading later that day.

"I can hardly wait!" giggled Lavender. "I just know she's going to tell me that cute Ravenclaw boy is destined to be in my future!"

"Well, I'm hoping to learn how many puppies my Mum's dog will have when she has her pups next week!" Parvati said enthusiastically.

As they turned the corner, still giggling and planning for their "private tea", the thread lead them to the top of one of the moving stairways. As they stepped onto it, it began to move. Parvati shreiked, almost losing her balance with the lurch, and the small ball of thread went flying through the air to






OK, here is the challenge: You have to pick up the thread, whoever you are, follow it a while through some interesting rooms/places/situations, and hand it off to (another character)...

who then picks up the thread and continues to wind it around and around into a ball as they continue through some interesting rooms/places/situations, and hands it off to (another character)...

who then picks up the thread and continues to wind it around and around into a ball as they continue through some interesting rooms/places/situations, and hands it off to (another character)...


The same character can pick it up again later... They can do many amazing things while it is in their possession... we can each write as many scenes as we care to write...


Go ahead! I DARE YA!!!

Through January 18th, 2004. 
Vote for favourite scene Jan. 19, 20, & 21 - so be sure to TITLE your scene to make it easier for all of us to vote for the intended one!
edited 1/18/04   This is now on-going       No time limit.

[agrippa]

As they turned the corner, still giggling and planning for their "private tea", the thread lead them to the top of one of the moving stairways. As they stepped onto it, it began to move. Parvati shreiked, almost losing her balance with the lurch, and the small ball of thread went flying through the air to Vincent Crabbe.

Crabbe Suprised

The ball of string hit Crabbe square in the nose and dropped into his huge hands.

"Oh - hello, Vincent," said Lavendar, backing away. "We were just on our way up to north tower."

"Oh." Crabbe stared at them for a minute, as if he was about to say something.

"So we'll just be on our way," said Pavarti.

"Oh." Crabbe's expression changed abruptly. "You seen Gregory?"

"Goyle?" Lavendar looked suprised. "No."

Crabbe grunted. "Thanks."

"All right. See you, then." Pavarti and Lavendar turned and dashed down the corridor.

Crabbe looked down at the ball of string in his hand. Well, there's nothing else to do. He thought. He followed the string down the staircase mindlessly. I wonder where Greg's gotten to?

On the seventh floor, a suit of armor tried to trip him. Without thinking, he punched it hard in the face, and its head flew off.

"Eeeee!" cried Peeves as he flew out of the suit and hovered near the ceiling. "It's crabby Crabbe! But where's his little palsy? Where's git-wit Goyle?"

"Dunno," said Crabbe, wishing with all his might that ghosts were punchable. "I'm looking for him."

"Peevsey knows," cried the poltergeist. "Crabby Crabbe should go look for Barnabas the Barmy!" Peeves disappeared through the wall.

Crabbe didn't know who Barnabas the Barmy was, and he certainly wasn't going to think about it too hard. So he continued to follow the thread.

It led him around the corner. On the wall there was a large tapestry of a wizard trying to teach some trolls to dance. Barmy, thought Crabbe as he stared at the tapestry.

A noise behind him brought him back to the present. He turned around and noticed a door on the opposite wall. The noise must have come from in there.

He opened the door a bit and peeked through the gap. It was like no room he had ever seen. It seemed to contain a beautiful indoor garden. There were birds singing in perfectly manicured hedges. There was a fountain, flowing into a pool full of magical color-shifting fish. And on a bench in front of that pond he saw the backs of two heads, one of which he recognized immediately.

"Greg!" he shouted, throwing the door open and entering the room.

Goyle jumped like someone was trying to hex him. So did the girl he was sitting with. They lept to their feet and turned around to face Crabbe.

"Uh, hi, Vince," muttered Goyle. Suddenly he realized he was still holding the girl's hand, which he dropped immediately. "Um, you know Tracey Davis, right?"

It was not unusual for Crabbe to be at a loss for words, but this time he was really stunned. His brow wrinked as he tried to fit this new idea about his best friend into his brain.

"What's that in your hand?" Goyle asked, trying to change the subject.

"What?" Crabbe looked down at the ball of string in his hands. "Oh. Nothing."

He tossed the ball of string over his shoulder and back into the corridor, not for a minute taking his eyes off of Goyle and Tracey Davis. The ball bounced hit the wall beneath the tapestry and came to a stop.

"Vince," said Goyle. "Do you mind closing the door?"

"Right," said Crabbe.

The trolls in the tapestry continued to collide into each other, getting angrier and angrier with each attempt. They certainly didn't notice the figure coming around the corner and picking up the ball of string.

[zymurgy]

From Flich to Snape to...?

Filch picked up the thread and examined it quizically, trying to figure out whether or not the nasty students had enchanted it. "Oh blast it, my sweet," he said, to Mrs. Norris, "They've gone and flooded the hallways with this stuff."

Filch began the hopless task of trying to wind up the string. Of course, after all the action, it just got stuck on something. So, Filch started off, following the string, so that he could untangle it.

The sight that met his eyes caused him to give a startled yelp. It had gotten stuck on Severus Snapes cauldron, and had knocked it over. Snape was, understandably, not very happy about this. "Sorry, sir," stammered Filch, "But the students... this thread..."

Snape lost his temper. "Oh do get out of my office," he snapped, "If you can't make yourself usefull! I'll take care of the thread... just go!"

Flich lost no time in putting a good distance between himself and the irate Potions Master. Snape, on the other hand, had been trying to untangle the thread using all the power at his disposal, but it continued to stubernly stay knotted around one leg of the cauldron. The fact that the spilled potion had rather gunked everything up was not helping.

Snape decided to imitate Filch, and follow the string to it's begining. It probably wouldn't help unravle it, but maybe he could find out where it had come from, and he could punish the student who had been so careless...

He took out a handy pen knife he had, and cut off the thread at the cauldron. He wrapped the one end round the ball Filch had already tied up, and put it in his pocket. He took hold of the other end, and, rolling it up as he walked, he set off on his quest.

He followed the string. Up stairs, down stairs, until he finally arived, to his own amazement, at a statue of a humpbacked which. The string had, inexplicablydissapeared down into the hump. Severus was, to say the least, peeved.

He got out his wand, and gave the witch a sharp smack on the hump with it. The witch actually rolled her eyes at him. "Password?" she croaked, in a stony voice. Snape glowerd. "I don't need a bloody password," he growled, "I'm just picking up this string."

The witch sighed. "Very well," she said, "It's been chaffing me something dreadfull anyhow."

The witch's hump opened, and Severus Snape clambered inside. He began to slip and slide down the dark passagway. He lit his wand, and continued, down, down down, rolling up the ball as he want.

Unfortunatly, it's very hard to roll up a ball of yarn, and hold a lighted wand at the same time, so Severus ended up triping. He fell with a yelp, and hit his head on one of the stone steps. He passed out, and the ball of string rolled from his grasp into the darkness...

[bakbam]

Dobby


The tunnel echoed with the sound of tiny footsteps. A light appeared from the far end of the tunnel. It was growing closer to where Snape lay on the cold floor.

"How did he get in the servents tunnnel? Said the house elf as he bent over to examine the Professor.

I don't know, but we need to get him out of the way. We have much work to do before lunch. The other replied. "Come on Dobby give us some help here."

"OK OK!" Dobby bent over and picked up the wand. He noticed the ball of thread hanging out of Snapes pocket. He looked down and saw another smaller ball of thread intangled in Snapes hand. Dobby quickly grabbed both balls of thread. "I can't help you. I forgot I have to go help Winky." Dobby said a bit flustered and strode away.

Dobby follow the string down the tunnel for thinking to himself. "This would be great thread for socks. I bet I could make hundreds of socks with this."

Dobby was walking with his head up daydreaming of the wonderful socks he would have when suddenly Dobby could not wind anymore string. He looked at the ball with disappointment. He soon realized that the string was caught in a doorway.

Dobby opened the door and continued to wind the thread into a ball. Dobby never noticed that he walked into the transfiguration class. Mrs. McGonagall was very upset when she saw the house elf trapes trough the middle of her classroom without a care in the world.

" Just what do you think you are doing interupting my class like this?" Came rumbling out of her mouth like a train. "Did you hear me?"She asked as she stomped over to him. He was still not paying any attention to her.

Professor McGonagall reached out at Dobby. She grabbed one of his ears and pulled him to the doorway. "I will not tolerate such intrusions while I am in the middle of a lesson." She shut the door with Dobby now an the other side.

Dobby looked up from the ball of thread. "I am sorry ma,am" He went back to following the string. Dobby was walking down the middle of the hall when the lunch bell rang.

The classroom doors burst open and the students flocked to the halls. Dobby was just to small compared to all the others . He was immedietly knocked down. The ball of string fell from his hands. It rolled down the hall a bit. Astudnet came running down the hall and kicked the ball.

Dobby stood up just in time to see the ball of thread untangle itself as it fell to the bottom floor.

[evlpez]

Seamus

Suddenly realizing that he'd neglected to pay the proper respect owed a Professor of Hogwarts, Dobby left in a blink to prostrate and punish himself in an appropriate fashion.

Nearing the bottom stair of the grand staircase, Seamus Finnegan was having an animated conversation with Dean Thomas on their way from their last class of the day. Seamus was vehemently defending the merits of Quidditch over muggle football when he suddenly got an eyeful of fluffy thread.

"What the-!?" Seamus exclaimed, clutching his eye and batting away the hanging thread.

"All right, Seamus?" Dean asked, "Look- I have to go meet someone. See you later."

Seamus nodded, knowing that Dean was off to find Ginny Weasley, his current love interest. Seamus held the thread and his eyes followed it up the side of several staircases. Looking around to see that he was now alone, he pulled out his wand and aimed it at the thread. He thought a moment about what spell he wanted to cast when he noticed the thread moving. Entranced by its hypnotic swaying as the end floated into the air he pocketed his wand and ran up the stairs, careful to keep the thread in his sight.

As he reached the top floor breathless, he desperately grasped the end of the thread threatening to slip away. It stopped moving then. Seamus's face screwed up, puzzled, and he looked around to see if he was at the butt end of someone's joke. Seeing no one, he turned his thoughts back to Ginny and Dean as he began winding the thread around his left index finger, picking up the slack and following it down the empty hall. Ginny had grown into a fine lass. She was fiery and passionate, a trait - like her red hair- that Seamus was certain came from his own homeland. He couldn't deny the twinges of jealousy he felt when he saw Dean fawning over her. She deserved someone better, he thought. Better than Dean- even better than himself, he thought sadly. He smiled as his head filled with imaginings of her red hair flying, her face afire with fury as she battled Death Eaters with Harry, Ron and Neville in the Ministry last spring. He wished he could have been there to lend his wand, maybe even save her life.

As he turned the corner, he was brought out of his reverie. The thread was wound around a large, heavy clay vase underneath a portrait of Sir Cadogen.

"A-ha! A worthy foe! En Garde, you pimply.." the knight started, charging forth.

Seamus interrupted him. "Hello, Sir Cadogen. What are you doing way up here?"

"Oh, it's you, Sir Finnegan." Cadogen was crestfallen, his challenge unanswered. "The Great Dumbledore asked that I set my vigilance on this hall." His voice lowered, "Strange goings on, you know. His Highness depends on me to keep a watchful eye and report back to him."

This was a usual response, Seamus knew. Sir Cadogen was frequently moved throughout the castle at the request of whomever his loud, late night questing had disturbed most recently.

"Well don't let me keep you." Seamus muttered as he drew his wand, intent on freeing the thread from this vase. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he incanted, swishing and flicking. The vase stood unmoved, to his surprise and frustration.

Cadogen flinched at Seamus' wandwork and muttered something about seeing a man about a dragon before fleeing his frame for shelter.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Seamus shouted then as he pulled the thread with his other hand, freeing it. The vase flipped up and smashed on Sir Cadogen's painting, which was mercifully unharmed. Seamus looked in disappointment at the great clay chunks and shards on the marble floor.

"Mister Finnegan. As a sixth year, I'd have thought you'd mastered that charm by now. In fact, I recall passing you in your first year based on the level of improvement you showed in class." A small, cheery voice called.

Seamus turned to see Professor Flitwick marching soundlessly toward him. His head lowered and he dropped the thread.

"Please see me this Saturday morning for a tutorial, Mister Finnegan. In the meantime, you don't want to miss dinner."

Seamus nodded and ran off, red-faced. Flitwick surveyed the damage and repaired it swiftly with a few swishes of his little wand when he noticed a thread at his feet. He picked it up and chuckled at the new diversion, winding it and following it further down the hall.

[McGonagall's Cat]

The Charmed Thread

Professor Flitwick toddled along chuckling to himself as he followed the thread. He held out his tiny wand and with an odd rotating flick of his wrist incanted, “windan invillupare.” The thread began to wrap itself around the already balled core, as he merely guided the unwound part from behind obstacles.

Near the third level he was startled when several of the other teachers rushed past him, almost bumping him over.

“Oh good!” Professor Sprout said when she noticed Flitwick. “We could certainly use your assistance, Filius. It seems some studentss, well we don’t really KNOW who, but it certainly has all the right earmarks … have… well, you’ll see. Come along.” She rushed away somewhat out of breath.

Flitwick absentmindedly left the thread winding itself, hanging mid-air, as he caught up with the clutch of teachers heading down one of the side hallways (where a slight green fog or smoke was beginning to escape along the ceiling).

The ball of thread began to tighten, pulling itself along from where it had been hanging. It wound along crossing several doorways, over the plumes on the helmet of a suit of armour, around a potted palm, past a portrait Sir Cadogan had taken over from a sour-looking old woman (he jabbed his heavy sword at the passing ball, shouting, "Dare to advance on the King's Guard you scurvey dog!!!") As it moved farther from the spot where Flitwick had forgotten it, the charm weakened. Eventually the charm ceased to have any effect whatsoever, allowing the ball to drop onto

[zymurgy]

AN INSULT TO THE MALFOY HONOR!

... fell onto Draco's head.

"HEY!" yelled Draco, looking up to see who had so assaulted him, "Who did that?"

Nobody answered. Draco looked in suprize at the ball of string that had just bonked him on the head. "I wonder..." he muttered to himself, and picked up the ball of thread.

He twirled it in his hand for a bit, and then decided that he would not let this insult to the Malfoy honor go unrevenged. He dashed after the thread, doing it up on his way.

He ran up the stairs. He ran back down the stairs. He ran into the dungeons. He ran back out of the dungeons. He began to get short of breath. He began to sweat. Finally, he sank to the floor, clutching a stitch in his side.

The ball of thread dropped to the floor, forgotten, and rolled out of site.

[bakbam]

Hagrid

The thread rolled down the staircase. It hit the bottom floor then bounced a bit before it began to roll toward the front door.

The doors flew open. The thread almost magically bounced down the steps. Hagid was carrying a large box and didn't see the ball of thread roll under his foot.

There was a loud thud. The sound echoed through the castle. Hagrid was sprawled out in the floor. The contents of the box lay around him. He sat up and looked to his side,"blasted thread", the thread lay there begging to be picked up.

Hagrid crawled around the floor and gathered up his belongings. He picked up the ball of thread looked at it curiously then threw it into the box. Hagrid didn't notice the loose string hanging out of the box as he began his trip up the stairs. With every step Hagrid made the ball of thread unwound itself.

Hagrid got on the third set of stairs when the staircase started to shift to the other side of the corrider. "Bloody stairs, I bet'tr go this way ter Dumbledore's office," Hagrid said to himself as he stepped onto the landing. He turned the corner. The thread hanging from the box wedged itself under the corner trim in the hall.

Hagrid continued walking still unaware of the thread hanging out of the box. In front of Dumbledore's office Hagrid whispered, "or'nge gumballs." The door slide open. The ball of thread tightened as Hagrid turned up the spiral stairs. In the next turn the thread was jerked out of the box. It rolled down the stairs and out the opening of the office.

There was only a tiny ball of thread left. It was lying in the floor waiting to be wound again.

[McGonagall's Cat]

Fang


Fang came galumphing around the corner frantically searching for Hagrid. He dashed along the hallway in such a headlong rush that he skidded on the smooth surface. His big feet went out from under him sending him comically spiraling across the floor like a top.

The tiny ball of thread was caught by a spastic foot as he scrabbled past trying to regain some traction, and was flung down the hall. It banked off the far wall, bouncing along, until it landed at the feet of

[zymurgy]

And We Enter: The Lake

...feet of Hermione. She sighed and picked up the thread, and began winding it up as she walked down towards the lake. "I really wish Ron would either understand that he likes me, or let me be," she muttered to herself, "Or maybe Harry would get some sense and just TELL Ron what's wrong..."

She stopped and stood by the lake thinking, when all of a sudden a huge owl swooped down with an enourmace package addressed to "Hormone-ninny Granger" from "Your own Victor."

She shrieked, either in fear of beaing brained by the huge box, or in delighte. She dropped the thread, and siezed the box, running up to the common room so that she could open it in private.

On the bank, the thread lay, forgotten. Slowly, it began to unwind, and roll where gravity pulled it. With a splash it landed in the lake.

The Giant Squid did a mental double take. "WOW! String!" Finally, she could learn to knit. Think of it, four sweaters at a time, or four pairs of socks, and she could finally give Dumbledore a Christmas present!

She pulled the string towards her, and in a matter of minutes, got herself hopelessly tangled up in it, unable to move. The other end of the string floated to the top of the lake and bobbed there, marking the spot.

[McGonagall's Cat]

Hedwig

Hedwig was out exercizing. She somewhat casually looked for a tasty morsel, perhaps a vole or field mouse, or a yummy little garden snake. Soaring on a thermal updraft, floating in lazy circles, her sharp amber eyes took in every detail. She had already swooped across the castle grounds, and now was touring the area between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. The hills passed below her strong wings telling her a panoramic story. For Hedwig this was like reading the newspaper.

Off to the left, several students were walking back from the village happily chatting and joking. They threw something high in the air that blossomed into a delightful shower of multi-coloured sparks which then turned into butterflies and fluttered away like a rainbow cloud. Near the trees she could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sitting, deeply engaged in discussion. Or rather Malfoy was speaking and the other two were sitting at his feet worshipfully. A flock of starlings squawked their cacophonous calls nearby. They were lined up on a fence rail like black clothespins. Gigglinng in the middle of a fairyring, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones were making daisy chains.

Hedwig banked back around over the Lake. She spied an odd line descending into the dark waters and swooped to investigate. A soggy ball of thread barely floated on the surface of the Lake, trialing the line. It intrigued her. Gently clasping her talons around it, she lifted it from the surface. Soon she felt a resistance, a stout pull. She turned to face the water, back-peddaling with all her might, pulling the thread. Jerks and tugs made holding on difficult, but she persevered. Eventually the Giant Squid came to the surface, flipping her tentacles around, untangling herself from the thread. While squids don't actually smile, she waved at Hedwig once she was free of the thread indicating her appreciation of the assistance.

Hedwig carried the soggy ball a little way across the Hogwarts grounds where she dropped it square on the head of

[bakbam]

Impossible Distrations

Harry was sitting under the tree where he saw his father in Snape's pensive. He had a pile of books laid out on the ground in front of him. He was trying hard to concentrate on his Potions report that was due in half an hour, but he was having a hard time.

Harry kept getting distracted by the constant giggling of Hermone and Ron who where sitting on the other side of the tree. The worst part was that Ron insisted on doing the same replay of his winning block during the game the night before.

Harry finally got tired of all the distrations. He gathered up his books and threw them half-heartedly in his bag. He started back up the hill to the castle.

Ron yelled, "Harry! Where are you going mate?"

Harry turned to the couple, "I've got studying to do. I don't have time to watch you flirt with Hermione all day. Why don't you two just start dating and get it over with. You obviously like each other or am I the only one here who sees that.?" Harry walked off at a fast pace.

Ron's face turned beet red. He gave Hermione a very confused looked. Ron stood up to follow Harry.

"We need to talk. You can follow him later." Hermione told Ron as she pulled him back down beside her.

Harry got half way up the hill when Hedwig flew down toward him. Harry smiled thinking that Hedwig was going to land on his shoulder for a bit of affection. Instead Hedwig dropped a ball of thread directly on Harry's head.

Harry picked up the ball of thread up as he was rubbing his head. "Blasted owl," Harry mumbled as he looked around and saw thread scattered all over the courtyard.

Harry began to wind the thread tightly around the small ball that he picked up. He walked through the courtyard and then back down the hill again trying to get the thread cleaned up. Harry walked around Hagrid's hut and started toward the willlow tree. Harry found this to be very peaceful.

In the distance Harry heard the bell ring for the next class. "Oh no! I am late for potion." Harry dropped the ball of thread and ran toward the castle.

[Quantamus]

The Forbidden Forest and back again


Fortunately for Harry, he wouldn't be the only one late for Potions Class today. The Potions Master himself would not turn up for several hours....

After rousing some minutes later and groping for his wand (whose light long gone out), Snape, being closer to the bottom of the tunnel than to the top, made the rest of the way down, suspicious about where the tunnel led to. He had no doubt that Potter had been using this very tunnel to escape Hogwarts after hours.

So Snape, teeth gritted against the ear-splitting headache that now had made his brain its home, made his way down the tunnel, found himself in Honeydukes, clambered out with many sneering apologies to the owner (who was understandably most upset), and quickly made his way back to Hogwarts. It was there that he came across the very same offending ball of thread that had begun all this nonsense in the first place.

He stood staring at it for a moment, eyebrows twitching in anger, fangs bared as though to eat the water soaked ball.

"ARGGH!"

Despite his growing hatred for the ball of thread (that galling headache had spread to his teeth), Snape found his desire to punish (the responsible student) overwhelming. With a violent kick at the grass, he snatched up the ball and began to follow its path once again.

Around Hagrid's Hut he went, around the Whomping Willow (much to his chagrin), up and down several branches of the old oak tree (he had quite a task keeping his skirts together), and then towards the clump of trees that was the gateway to the Forbidden Forest.

Of course, being a Professor (and rather knowledgeable about the Dark Arts besides), he was not afraid and continued right through. In and out, between the trees, Snape went. He stumbled and fell several times, stubbing his nose on some very painfully hard rocks.

"Potter," Snape muttered, as he picked himself up for the twelfth time, "Potter did this."

Of course, Harry couldn't have done it. He was busy waiting with the other students in the Potions dungeon. But Snape had a headache and his nose was hurting tremendously, so I'm afraid we must forgive his bias-driven oversight this time.

Snape went on deeper and deeper, rolling up the ball of thread as he went along. He walked, it seemed, for several hours, when suddenly, the thread led him to a large, empty clearing. He paused at the edge of it. His nose jerked and flared a number of times; it was picking up a strange, beastly, stale smell. It was only a subtle smell, but as he stepped deeper into the clearing, it invaded his nose and mouth, filling his head and consuming him.

He dropped the ball of thread and grabbed his head instead, moaning in pain, and as he did so, several large dark creatures emerged from the trees, and it was only when he opened his watering eyes once more that he realized that the towering creatures were there. His heart froze: he, like Ron Weasley, was terrified of spiders, and these gigantic ones seemed happy to make a meal of him.

Snape screamed very loudly. He turned and ran back out of the Forest, across the Hogwarts grounds, and into the castle, screaming all the way. He ran screaming past Dumbledore, who looked at him from over his half-moon glasses in curiosity. He ran screeching past Sprout and Flitwick, not noticing their worried expressions. He screamed past McGonagall ("My, my, Severus!"), Moody ("Something in your underwear, Snape?"), and Trelawny ("I foresee certain death..."). He streaked through the Great Hall, blessing the students (it was about lunch time) with his dulcet tones. His hair whipped about behind him, grease splattering on the golden plates and goblets. His eyes were wide and white in fear. His robes had unbuttoned to reveal his pink underdress. He was foaming at the mouth. And still he continued to scream and run, until he had run through every hall and room in Hogwarts and finally, exhausted, he dropped to the floor (of unknown room) and fell asleep.


Meanwhile, in the Forbidden Forest, a ball of thread lay unattended. The spiders, recognizing it as a useless imitation of their own product, had abandoned it. And there it lay, until it was picked up by...

[zymurgy]

Firenze.

Firenze looked at the ball. "Ah." he said simply, "Venus was bright last night."

That cryptic announcement out of the way, he lowered his front legs until he could reach the ball with his arms. He took the ball of thread, and began to roll it up.

"I see," he said, "that this thread has been handled by manny men, and many creatures. It bodes ill, very ill."

He continued winding it, until he came to the edge of the forest. (Professor Snape had been going around in circles) He raised a spectacular blond eyebrow, and blinked his blue eyes at the light. He took in the trail of tangled thread that was going just about everywhere.

"Humans," he said to himself, "Have no sense of orginization."

He stood where was was, and wound up the thread. He wound, and he wound and he wound. That is, until it, invetibly, caught on something. Sighing, he began to follow it.

He followed it all the way to the castle, where it was caught on the highest turret of Hogwarts. He tried to pull it down, and failed, several times. He just couldn't get it to untie itself. He couldn't fly, and didn't think it worth his time to go into the castle and untangle it from the upstairs. After all, climbing stairs with four legs is no easy task.

So he sighed, and left the neet ball of thread at the bottom of the tower, and returned to the forest.

[Quantamus]

The Flight Instructor

Madam Hooch stepped out onto the Hogwarts grounds carrying her old but trusty broom, the Cleansweep 7. For the first time in several months, she had enough free time to take the careless flight over Hogwarts that she so loved.

As she neared her favorite take-off spot, she noticed Firenze the Centaur cantering off back towards the Forbidden Forest. Madam Hooch's curiosity was immediately aroused, and after checking that Firenze was safely back in Forest, she made her way back along the path on which Firenze had come. For several minutes she saw nothing unusual...nothing, at least, that would warrant the attention of a centaur. The only thing she saw that was of least bit interest was a muddy ball of thread that lay at the base of the North Tower. The centaur couldn't have come for this old thing, could he?

Madam Hooch took the ball of thread in her hands, wondering mildly what mischievous student had left it lying around, but when she pulled on it, she found that it was caught on the tower's turret.

"How's that, now?" wondered Madam Hooch, and since she had nothing else planned besides flying, she hopped onto her broom and, holding carefully onto the ball of thread, flew up to the turret and released the thread.

She would have left the thread there and then, but she noticed that the thread wound its way around several of the other towers before snaking suspiciously into the Divination tower. She followed the ball, winding up the thread as she went, and it wasn't long before she was hovering before the Divinations window.

The room was empty. Madam Hooch bent and twisted her way into the window, so desperate was she to get to the end of the thread (was it a magical thread?). She had managed to squeeze one leg in when a magnificent booming voice erupted around her.

"Death! DEATH!! Death shall come upon us all!!!"

Was it Trelawny? Madam Hooch could not tell, nor did she care at this point. In her fright, she had dropped the ball of thread (which was now rolling unassumingly across the lush carpet), and lost her balance. Her broom just out of reach and her wand lying useless on the ground far below, she hung precariously from the Divinations window with only one leg keeping her from falling to certain death. She didn't care that her face was growing a prune purple as the blood rushed to her head. She didn't care that her robes, normally slipping about her legs, were now billowing like sails in high wind. She didn't care that she was the most ridiculous thing Hogwarts had seen since Umbridge had declared her existence. She cared only that she would fall if she didn't hang on tightly enough.

For a silly ball of thread, Madam Hooch thought bitterly, I should lose my life. All for a silly ball of thread.

"Help!! Help me please! Somebody! Before I fall! PLEASE!"