Harry Cotter and the Philosopher’s Brothel.
The Slut And The Station
“Knock Knock” Harry and Ron, still emerged in piles of sweets, looked up to see a slut stood in the doorway, she hadn’t knocked, just said the words for some bizarre reason
“Have you guys like seen a toad hopping about?” her voice was high pitched and squeaky
“Erm…no” Harry mumbled “Sorry”
“Hello” she fully noticed the dark haired boy for the first time “I’m Hermione, call me Mi”
“I’m Ron” the other boy chirped in, if anyone was going to get some action; it would be him.
“Like it matters” she flicked her hair “Anyway sure you haven’t seen one about?”
“No, sorry” Harry responded, his tone asking Mi to leave the carriage. “Well, if you see one, I’ll be in carriage 4”
Ron’s eyes were glued to the small bit of material, which Harry assumed, she called a skirt.
“Wartface just became a whole lot funner” the ginger goth smirked as Harry rolled his eyes, tutting.
“Ya thin she’s in our year?”
“Hope so!” Ron smirked “What colour robes did she have?”
“Navy, why?”
“All years have black ‘cept first”
“Speaking of robes, shouldn’t we be getting changed?”
“Suppose” he shrugged, they weren’t his style.
A few arguments later of ‘CLOSE YOUR EYES’ followed by ‘THEY ARE CLOSED!’, the two boys were sat once again facing each other; the left pocket of Ron’s robe was bulging with Herpes, and several Botts.
“Look at that” the Goth motioned out of the window “It’s the castle”. Spinning round, Harry could see it; smoke already billowing out of the chimneys, owls circling high above the building.
“Isn’t that fucking awesome”
“Yeah” Harry responded, a little annoyed that he was going to be around someone who swore almost as much as Haggis.
Haggis. Harry hadn’t thought about him since leaving the platform, if he worked at Wartface, how would he get there? Hopefully, he thought, it wouldn’t be by throwing himself against a brick wall of any sort.
The Warted Foot made a large whistle type noise, indicating it was pulling into the station, where one man was stood. It was a pretty simple station, one bridge over the tracks, one small shelter and one lantern which seemed to light up the dark area.
“Guessing we’re in a different time zone” Harry spotted the clock which read “6.50”; he assumed this was in the evening, as there was no sign of any sunrise. Ron peered far out of the window; his eyes only focusing on the small man on the platform:
“Blimey, he’s short!”
“Have you guys like seen a toad hopping about?” her voice was high pitched and squeaky
“Erm…no” Harry mumbled “Sorry”
“Hello” she fully noticed the dark haired boy for the first time “I’m Hermione, call me Mi”
“I’m Ron” the other boy chirped in, if anyone was going to get some action; it would be him.
“Like it matters” she flicked her hair “Anyway sure you haven’t seen one about?”
“No, sorry” Harry responded, his tone asking Mi to leave the carriage. “Well, if you see one, I’ll be in carriage 4”
Ron’s eyes were glued to the small bit of material, which Harry assumed, she called a skirt.
“Wartface just became a whole lot funner” the ginger goth smirked as Harry rolled his eyes, tutting.
“Ya thin she’s in our year?”
“Hope so!” Ron smirked “What colour robes did she have?”
“Navy, why?”
“All years have black ‘cept first”
“Speaking of robes, shouldn’t we be getting changed?”
“Suppose” he shrugged, they weren’t his style.
A few arguments later of ‘CLOSE YOUR EYES’ followed by ‘THEY ARE CLOSED!’, the two boys were sat once again facing each other; the left pocket of Ron’s robe was bulging with Herpes, and several Botts.
“Look at that” the Goth motioned out of the window “It’s the castle”. Spinning round, Harry could see it; smoke already billowing out of the chimneys, owls circling high above the building.
“Isn’t that fucking awesome”
“Yeah” Harry responded, a little annoyed that he was going to be around someone who swore almost as much as Haggis.
Haggis. Harry hadn’t thought about him since leaving the platform, if he worked at Wartface, how would he get there? Hopefully, he thought, it wouldn’t be by throwing himself against a brick wall of any sort.
The Warted Foot made a large whistle type noise, indicating it was pulling into the station, where one man was stood. It was a pretty simple station, one bridge over the tracks, one small shelter and one lantern which seemed to light up the dark area.
“Guessing we’re in a different time zone” Harry spotted the clock which read “6.50”; he assumed this was in the evening, as there was no sign of any sunrise. Ron peered far out of the window; his eyes only focusing on the small man on the platform:
“Blimey, he’s short!”