Status: A work in progress
Harry Potter and the Carnivorous Pony
Horseless Carriages... with Horses
"Come on, Harry, for goodness' sake! If we don't hurry up the carriages will leave without us and we'll have half a year of detention before we start classes!" Hermione grabbed the basket holding her enormous ginger cat, Crookshanks, and pulled her Hogwarts trunk from the rack overhead.
"Oi!" Ron shouted, ducking as Hermione's trunk narrowly missed his vividly red-haired head. "Watch it! I'd like to keep my head attached to my body, thanks... Harry, are you coming?" he added. Harry started and glanced around; Ron and Hermione were both staring at him. He hastily grabbed Hedwig and his trunk and followed his friends off the Hogwarts Express, trying to ignore the throbbing of his scar.
Harry smiled as Hagrid waved a monstrous hand in their direction, then yelled, "Firs' year, this way! Over here!" A crowd of puny midgets, tripping and stumbling nervously over the hems of their oversized robes, scampered quickly towards the boats, whispering and muttering.
“Runty little blokes, aren’t they?” Ron said as they ambled over to the horseless carriages, which, to Harry’s shock, were no longer horseless.
“Hermione! What are these—these things?” Harry stuttered. Hermione shot him a questioning look. She opened her mouth to speak.
“Don’t be a git, mate, there’s nothing there!” Ron interrupted. Harry, however, was still staring at the skeletal, winged black horses.
“I’m not stupid, Ron, look!” Harry said, indignant and hurt by Ron’s insensitive comment. Hermione grabbed arm.
“The carriages are leaving!” The three of them sprinted to the rows of carriages, but the pony-creatures were galloping at top speed toward the castle. “Grab one as it passes!” Hermione shouted, throwing her trunk and cat into one at random and then falling in after it. Harry threw his trunk and Hedwig’s cage into the nearest carriage and swung himself up and over the side. Standing and brushing the dirt of his cloak, Harry saw a tangle of arms and legs interspersed with patches of vivid red hair the exact shade of Ron’s.
“Er…” Harry said uncertainly. The tangle separated into Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley, who both looked embarrassed and slightly out of breath. “I’ll—er—just—sorry,” he finished lamely. Ginny and Dean stared at him. “Do you mind?” he added, pointing to the seat.
“Oh!” Ginny panted, blushing. “Dean—budge up!” She gave him a shove and motioned for Harry to sit between them. He sat, glaring resentfully at Dean, although he wasn’t sure why he felt so angry. Dean returned an equally friendly look. Harry glanced over at Ginny, who had turned an incredibly bright pink and was intently staring at the passing trees as if waiting for a Crumple-Horned Snorkack to appear. Finally, after what seemed like hours of awkward silence, the carriages stopped at the castle entrance. “See you, then,” Harry said, nodding curtly to Ginny, who tried to smile but ended up grimacing.
Harry entered the Great Hall and felt a surge of happiness. Hogwarts was his home and always would be. The only happy memories he had were of him with his fellow Gryffindors: sneaking out to Hagrid’s with Ron and Hermione, celebrating after winning a Quidditch match, eating and laughing at every evening’s amazing feast… Harry hurried over to his friends as Dumbledore stood and began to speak.
The feast was marvelous, as it was every day of every year. After Dumbledore’s announcements—no snogging in the hallways, no Dark spells, no entering the Forbidden Forest, no Transfiguring fellow students—an array of aromatic dishes appeared. Harry took eight pieces of roast beef and three scoops of roasted potatoes, then happily conversed with his friends. (Unfortunately, no one could maintain intelligible conversation, as someone had jinxed the potatoes so they expanded in the eaters’ mouths, and the strangled attempts and speaking were soon replaced with coughing and retching noises.) Harry was particularly and sadistically happy to see Dean running to the hospital wing after Ginny had flung the spoon was feeding her with into his eye. She didn’t appear remorseful, either; Harry overheard her muttering “insane prat” and “load of owl dung” under her breath all the way to the common room.
"Oi!" Ron shouted, ducking as Hermione's trunk narrowly missed his vividly red-haired head. "Watch it! I'd like to keep my head attached to my body, thanks... Harry, are you coming?" he added. Harry started and glanced around; Ron and Hermione were both staring at him. He hastily grabbed Hedwig and his trunk and followed his friends off the Hogwarts Express, trying to ignore the throbbing of his scar.
Harry smiled as Hagrid waved a monstrous hand in their direction, then yelled, "Firs' year, this way! Over here!" A crowd of puny midgets, tripping and stumbling nervously over the hems of their oversized robes, scampered quickly towards the boats, whispering and muttering.
“Runty little blokes, aren’t they?” Ron said as they ambled over to the horseless carriages, which, to Harry’s shock, were no longer horseless.
“Hermione! What are these—these things?” Harry stuttered. Hermione shot him a questioning look. She opened her mouth to speak.
“Don’t be a git, mate, there’s nothing there!” Ron interrupted. Harry, however, was still staring at the skeletal, winged black horses.
“I’m not stupid, Ron, look!” Harry said, indignant and hurt by Ron’s insensitive comment. Hermione grabbed arm.
“The carriages are leaving!” The three of them sprinted to the rows of carriages, but the pony-creatures were galloping at top speed toward the castle. “Grab one as it passes!” Hermione shouted, throwing her trunk and cat into one at random and then falling in after it. Harry threw his trunk and Hedwig’s cage into the nearest carriage and swung himself up and over the side. Standing and brushing the dirt of his cloak, Harry saw a tangle of arms and legs interspersed with patches of vivid red hair the exact shade of Ron’s.
“Er…” Harry said uncertainly. The tangle separated into Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley, who both looked embarrassed and slightly out of breath. “I’ll—er—just—sorry,” he finished lamely. Ginny and Dean stared at him. “Do you mind?” he added, pointing to the seat.
“Oh!” Ginny panted, blushing. “Dean—budge up!” She gave him a shove and motioned for Harry to sit between them. He sat, glaring resentfully at Dean, although he wasn’t sure why he felt so angry. Dean returned an equally friendly look. Harry glanced over at Ginny, who had turned an incredibly bright pink and was intently staring at the passing trees as if waiting for a Crumple-Horned Snorkack to appear. Finally, after what seemed like hours of awkward silence, the carriages stopped at the castle entrance. “See you, then,” Harry said, nodding curtly to Ginny, who tried to smile but ended up grimacing.
Harry entered the Great Hall and felt a surge of happiness. Hogwarts was his home and always would be. The only happy memories he had were of him with his fellow Gryffindors: sneaking out to Hagrid’s with Ron and Hermione, celebrating after winning a Quidditch match, eating and laughing at every evening’s amazing feast… Harry hurried over to his friends as Dumbledore stood and began to speak.
The feast was marvelous, as it was every day of every year. After Dumbledore’s announcements—no snogging in the hallways, no Dark spells, no entering the Forbidden Forest, no Transfiguring fellow students—an array of aromatic dishes appeared. Harry took eight pieces of roast beef and three scoops of roasted potatoes, then happily conversed with his friends. (Unfortunately, no one could maintain intelligible conversation, as someone had jinxed the potatoes so they expanded in the eaters’ mouths, and the strangled attempts and speaking were soon replaced with coughing and retching noises.) Harry was particularly and sadistically happy to see Dean running to the hospital wing after Ginny had flung the spoon was feeding her with into his eye. She didn’t appear remorseful, either; Harry overheard her muttering “insane prat” and “load of owl dung” under her breath all the way to the common room.