Breaking Into The Broom Shed
I ran towards the small shed on the far side of the orchard. It was a dark night and the breeze whipped around my ankles, playing with the hem of my dressing gown. I finally reached the shed and shuffled round so I was in the shadows, in case someone was watching.
I wasn't supposed to be out here. I was supposed to be tucked up in bed with 'teddy', not getting my slippers muddy. I hadn't slept with Fred's foul-smelling cast-offs for years anyway. It wasn't just that, it was what I was about to do that was worse. Mum had forbidden me from ever getting on a broomstick. She didn't mind the boys playing – "it's a rough and tumble game darling, much more suited for boys" – but she drew the line at letting her precious only daughter compete in contact sports. It wasn't fair, so I was going to see if it was worth all the fuss.
I pulled a hairpin from my pocket and scrutinized it in the gloom. I bent it carefully into shape and stuck it in the big padlock that locked the shed door. I fiddled around until I felt the pins all slide down, and then pulled the mangled hairpin out. The padlock clicked, and opened. It had worked. Just like Fred and George had told me. They really were very good criminals.
With little time to waste, I took the padlock off the door and opened the shed. There, standing innocently in a corner, were the family broomsticks. I reverently took out Bill's Shooting Star and held it nervously, just standing looking at it for a few moments, feeling the smooth wood under my shaking fingers.
I then took it out of the shed and mounted it. For a minute, nothing happened and my heart sank, but then it rose slowly in the air. My heart leapt as I realised I was flying. Almost instinctively, I leaned back and it rose higher. I steered it naturally, doing laps around the orchard.
The air whipped my hair around my face. I had to struggle to keep myself from screaming in pure exhilaration. It felt so natural, so normal. I joyfully soared around the orchard, my clothes feeling paper thin, flapping feebly against me.
Some time later, I noticed the first few rays of the sun poking out from behind the village down the hill, Ottery St. Catchpole. I panicked, and nearly flew into a tree. I regained my balance and touched down on the ground, my legs shaking from cramp and tried to remember how to walk.
I quickly put the broom back where I had found it exactly, remembering to pull out any stray leaves that had caught in the tail. I clicked the padlock back together on the lock of the shed and tiptoed back to bed, exhausted.
The next day, I appeared downstairs at midday.
"Ginny!" Mum said, coming through from the kitchen, "I was just beginning to worry. You're not ill are you?"
"No. I just stayed up late last night. Reading." I lied, surprisingly easily.
It was then that I noticed the sudden quiet.
"Where is everyone?" I asked.
"Your Father's gone to work; Bill, Charlie, Fred and George are all playing Quidditch, Percy's studying already (I don't believe it, he's only starting Hogwarts this year!), and Ron's through there grumbling about having to do schoolwork when you're not even awake!" Mum said, all in one breath. She had gotten good at multi-tasking since she'd had seven children, and developed her sizable lungs too.
I smiled guiltily and took my place at the kitchen table. Ron was sitting opposite, and gave me a dirty look which I replied to by sticking my tongue out. He scowled and returned to staring at the book he was 'reading' and picking his nose.
I smiled to myself. It's hard to keep secrets in such a large family, but this would be one I could have all to myself. No one would ever need to know.