Ah...I know it. Wait a second...it was something with Im...im...oh screw this! Alastair had wasted the last two hours and a half of his precious life by trying to think of what spell it was that made the stupid Whomping Willow stop moving so he'd have enough time to get to the secret passage to the Shrieking Shack.
Well.
It was no longer secret, what with all students knowing about it now. It was from when they heard all tales of Harry Potter, his friends and some other peeps who used to go to this school, and used the passage many times. Definitely not a secret anymore.
Now, what was that spell? Im...im...Immobulus! Something like that anyway! Jeez Alastair, remember the stupid spell! I thought you liked Charms so what the hell are you doing not remembering one of the simplest spells in the history of spells?
"Nah. Not gonna use it yet!" The Slytherin told himself, stopping not too far but not too close from the Whomping Willow and just watching it as if he was completely fascinated by it. Six years had Alastair come here to watch this tree. Six. Whole. Years. And never in this six whole years had he gotten tired of the swinging - sometimes violent - branches; the way they hit people in the stomach and made them fly backwards. It could seriously knock them in the middle of next week! When he was younger - Year 4, maybe? - he had used to latch on to one of the branches and pull himself up, letting them take him on a nice flying trip. He had tried to fly his broom somewhere near it too in Year 2, but that didn't work so well.
His broom had gotten stuck in the branches, ended up snapped in half. And him...? Well, he'd ended up with a broken arm and a massive bruise on his right side. It was all good fun in the end though. Well. At least no one had laughed at him.
