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"Hey! I was eating that!," Harry cried out, watching in disgusted dismay as Ron ate the rest of his toast and worked on the sausages that remained on his golden plate. Hermione had already hidden her face behind a book at the first bite of Harry's half eaten toast. Only the suspicious sounds of soft gagging told of her feelings about Ron's behaviour at the breakfast table. It didn't help that just in front of Ron lay a large pile of toast, and to the red-head's right was a plate full of still steaming sausage.
Feeling his appetite wither away and die at the sight of partially chewed meat and bread escaping from his best friend's lips, Harry decided to try and distract himself with staring at the charmed ceiling. Late May sunshine was peeking past wisps of white clouds that drifted lazily across the enchanted sky.
Perhaps a quick peek outside would cheer his day; an escape from the gossip still raging through the Great Hall five months after Voldemort's defeat. That and a very quick getaway from Ron's rampage on all that was edible in front of him. A quick glance at Hermione's hold on her book and quivering of her shoulders told him that an escape would be very much appreciated at that second.

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Maureen

October 2012

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