Disclaimer: Everything you recognize here isn't mine. Except for Joan and more lovelies to come.

A/N: This is my first (and probably failed) attempt at humor. If Polyjuice Potion can be read, it'll be like this. Like goblin's piss. See? You didn't even laugh at that one.

AFTERMATH OF STUPIDITY

by Joan Thorn

The animated chatter buzzing around the Great Hall, which sounded much like an insistent horde of bees, abruptly stopped as I picked up my glass of pumpkin juice.

Good, I thought with satisfaction as I sipped. Finally, some peace and quiet after the endless mess I had gotten myself into.

But then the noise started again, ranging from hushed whispers to stifled laughter.

Frowning, I demanded, "Is there something wrong with me drinking juice? For Merlin's sake, stop judging me and leave me alone!"

Lorcan stared at me shrewdly, his eyes narrowing before he pushed away a nearby jug filled with pumpkin juice, muttering something about Wrackspurts being attracted to the smell of the fruit.

"You shouldn't drink that," he warned. His voice had that faraway tone about it that used to unsettle me. It made him sound high on weed or something. His misty blue-grey eyes that often slid out of focus during conversations weren't convincing anyone otherwise, either. "See? Your mind's all fuzzy because of the Wrackspurts in your pumpkin juice."

I stared at him.

"Then why is everybody going nutters? And don't tell me they drink too much pumpkin juice."

"Wrackspurts?" Lysander, who was sitting beside his twin, offered with a shrug.

I glared at him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rose scooting closer to me. Her back was straight and her shoulders were stiff when she said, "It's Al and Score, obviously. They've been discharged from the Hospital Wing." I felt her cold gaze shooting daggers at me as she stood up. I didn't dare return her stare, knowing the hatred would be there.

From my position on the table, I had clear view of the entrance to the Great Hall, and it was far too late to duck my head and avoid them.

Wait, why was I hiding from them again?

Sometimes, my actions baffled me.

Al's right eye was swollen shut and his left arm was in a sling, whereas one corner of Score's mouth was bruised and he was limping; one of his lower legs was wrapped in a cast. Our gazes met for a split second until the boys broke them, glowering at each other, before they headed to their respective house tables as the whispers and laughter continued.

"It's not too late to apologize," Lysander advised out of nowhere. He was wearing a pair of Spectrespecs now, eyeing the pumpkin juice jug apprehensively.

"Maybe I should. I mean, they weren't supposed to fight like this…" I contemplated loudly. But it seemed like I was only talking to myself, if the blank looks from the Scamander twins were any indication.

"Do you reckon we can touch Wrackspurts?" Lysander inquired, his hand already moving towards the jug.

"Most likely, considering we can touch Thestrals despite them being invisible," Lorcan answered.

And that was my cue to leave.

Grasping the cool, thin chain inside my robe pocket, I crossed to the Entrance Hall and waited there for either Albus or Scorpius to come out. A devious smile crept up my face as I thought about the brilliance of my plan.

But since there was a chance Wrackspurts were invading my head, I couldn't really trust my current logic.