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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2168356
Pottering around on the golf course. Winner, Cramp!

"So you're teachers?"

We were walking toward the tee-off, the four of us, and I was making small talk with the other twosome. The golf course was crowded, and Supriya and I had been paired off with them.

"Yes," the older lady replied. "I teach English Literature, she teaches Art." We smiled at each other, and walked on in silence.

"Oh, are we here? What do we do now?"

"You've never played golf before?" I asked.

"No," they chorused. "It's our first time on a golf course. Do we take a bat each?"

"Club," Supriya corrected.

"Club? Like the one the troll had in Harry Potter? Look, Shirley, Wingardium Leviosa!"

The English Literature teacher took a one-handed swipe at the ball on the tee. it flopped on to the grass a couple of inches away.

"You're saying it wrong, that's what," Shirley corrected her, laughing. "It's LeviOsa, not LevioSAA." Giggling, the Art teacher took a swipe at her ball, and it knocked into her friend's.

"Your ball knocked mine, Hermione Granger! Now you have to forfeit!"

"Which game are we in?" I whispered to Supriya, who raised her eyebrows..

"Which world are we in?" she hissed back.

"You Beaters want to take your turns at the Bludger now?"

"Qui, ditch?" Supriya whispered.

"No, I don't want to ditch, I kind of like them."

So, we gave in, Supriya and I. It wasn't golf we were playing any more, it was some weird version of Quidditch. But the idea was to have fun on my birthday, and hey, these two teachers were so entertaining, I was having the time of my life. Supriya and I wondered for a bit if they were high on something addictive, but it became apparent that they were just high-spirited.

Things got a bit bizarre, however, when the English Literature teacher pretended she was actually flying around on a broomstick. Yes, yes. A forty year old woman put her golf club -- um -- between her legs --- and went 'wheeeee'. She yelled, "Pass me the Quaffle, Shirley!"

And then she went 'Oops, sorry."

And then she stopped.

And her jaw dropped.

She had 'flown' in to another group of four people who were playing through.

"That's the Principal and three Trustees," the Art teacher whispered, as she took refuge behind my back, She clutched Supriya's arm and moved her, so that both of us together hid her completely from view.

Nobody spoke. The two men and the two women looked Ms. English Literature up and down. She was so flabbergasted, she didn't even take the club out from its position. Then, one of the men began to step closer to her.

"The Principal, the Principal," came a murmur in my ear. "What's he going to do to her?"

The Principal had taken a pen out of his front pocket. Turning to his three golf-mates, he brandished it and yelled, "OBLIVIATE!"

He smiled at his English Literature teacher. "There, you don't have to worry about them, now, they've forgotten this. See how their eyes have gone out of focus?"

"You -- I mean -- I'm --" she spluttered, finally getting off her 'broom'.

"Ah, no, mount your broom, Madam Hooch won't allow any more time out."

She stood there, staring at him.

"I see you need persuading." He pointed his 'wand' at her. "IMPERIO! Mount your broom and resume your pursuit of the Quaffle!"

She had to obey. (She was under the Imperius curse, after all.) "But it's not the Quaffle I'm after," she clarified. "It's the Snitch. I'm Seeker."

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