Post by Alfred Effing Jones on Jan 29, 2011 13:08:22 GMT -5
It was the weekend and, like all weekends at Hogwarts, there wasn't much to do. A few of the older people joked that Hogwarts had never been this boring in Harry Potter's day. The younger residents laughed along and asked for the stories about the hero that they'd heard over and over again already.
Alfred, especially, begged for any stories he could get his hands on. There were some people around the castle actually old enough to remember the great Harry Potter himself as a kid his age. They would indulge him eventually, because he usually refused to leave them alone until they did. But he would get the stories and piece them together, learning more about the life of his idol.
So when he found out that the ministry was doing an exhibit about him with all sorts of items and stories pertaining to his career first as a boy hero like himself and then working past his school years, he jumped at the chance to go. He begged and begged and begged his teachers to put together a field trip. And finally, after weeks of wheedling, he finally got them to agree.
So here they were at the ministry, looking at things like the wand he'd used to defeat the Dark Lord, courtesy of the family of the late Draco Malfoy. Alfred wandered through the exhibit between the glass cases holding things like the splinters of his first broom, the glasses and wand that they'd recovered from where he had vanished fighting Pangaea, and other cool things.
He stopped just shy of the display case that held a replica of Buckbeak, the hippogriff he'd rescued in his third year and then used to save his godfather Sirius Black. The detail was amazing, the miniture looked like it could almost be real. But that was magic for you. Sometimes it still took his breath away, the things you could do with magic that Pangaea and the Earth's Children never taught.
Alfred, especially, begged for any stories he could get his hands on. There were some people around the castle actually old enough to remember the great Harry Potter himself as a kid his age. They would indulge him eventually, because he usually refused to leave them alone until they did. But he would get the stories and piece them together, learning more about the life of his idol.
So when he found out that the ministry was doing an exhibit about him with all sorts of items and stories pertaining to his career first as a boy hero like himself and then working past his school years, he jumped at the chance to go. He begged and begged and begged his teachers to put together a field trip. And finally, after weeks of wheedling, he finally got them to agree.
So here they were at the ministry, looking at things like the wand he'd used to defeat the Dark Lord, courtesy of the family of the late Draco Malfoy. Alfred wandered through the exhibit between the glass cases holding things like the splinters of his first broom, the glasses and wand that they'd recovered from where he had vanished fighting Pangaea, and other cool things.
He stopped just shy of the display case that held a replica of Buckbeak, the hippogriff he'd rescued in his third year and then used to save his godfather Sirius Black. The detail was amazing, the miniture looked like it could almost be real. But that was magic for you. Sometimes it still took his breath away, the things you could do with magic that Pangaea and the Earth's Children never taught.