"Hi Draco. What's up?"
No, that's stupid. But I have to say something.
"Hi, Draco, do you have a minute?" Do I need to introduce myself? He probably doesn't remember me. I'm holding my broom. Why am I holding my broom? I look dumb. I lean it against the field house like it's no big deal.
But it is a big deal. I have spent over a year designing and building the fastest broom in the world. I know that sounds crazy, but I checked the physics. Yeah, physics. I used plain old muggle science to build the fastest broom in the world.
I used muggle tools too. They have this thing called a lathe where you can take a large piece of wood and whittle it down to a fine handle. In American baseball, some players have started using maple for their bats. Because it's denser than ash, it can maintain a higher velocity. Wizards use maple for wands, but they've never thought to use it for brooms.
And that's what sets my broom apart. I use the best of both worlds. The Firebolt has an unbreakable Braking Charm? Whoop-de-doo. Anyone can cast a spell. But if your broom is made better, it will still be better after the charm.
And the best broom deserves the best team. My sisters and my parents and my grandfather all played Chaser for Slytherin. I didn't make the team. I've never been athletic, but I'd like to coach one day. For now, this is how I can help Slytherin stay great. I even named it after the fastest snake, the Black Mamba.
Any minute now the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team will walk out of that field house and I'm giving him my masterpiece, 15 months and 6 prototypes in the making.
The team starts to trickle out. They stare at me, but I smile back. They'll see.
Out comes Draco, of course with Crabbe and Goyle. I grab the broom and walk toward him. He looks at me and smiles.
"Ella McElroy? What are you doing here?"
He knows my name!
"Hi Draco. Do you have a minute?"
But then I see Crabbe and Goyle smiling. They don't smile for pleasure. They only smile to be cruel. The whole team is smiling. Twenty-four eyes are locked on me like a pack of jackals. This was a mistake. But I've come too far to stop now.
The lead dog growls, "Please tell me you're not here for...a second chance."
I wish I could apparate. I wish I had an invisibility cloak.
"Because you were the worst chaser I have ever seen. And I've seen a flobberworm play chaser."
The twenty-four eyes lit up with malicious delight as they circled their prey.
"I'm not here to play."
"Then why do you have that stupid-looking broom?" he sneered.
"That's actually why I'm here. This is the Black Mamba. She's the fastest broom in the world and she's going to win you the House Cup."
That shut them up. The team looked closer at the Mamba before Draco broke the silence.
"You made that?"
"Yeah. I used a special-"
"I thought you stole it from a troll!"
The pack roared with laughter.
"No, I'll be sticking with my Nimbus 2001." Everyone on the team had a Nimbus 2001 after Malfoy's father bought them. "If you'll excuse me, I have a practice to run."
I was desperate. "Please, if you'd just try it!"
"I'd rather be a mudblood."
I watch as my favorite team in the world mounts their brooms and fly to the pitch.
I storm through the halls, mumbling to myself the kinds of spells I'm going to use against Draco, no, the whole team! What if in the next match I cursed them so they could only turn left? Not subtle enough.
Or what if I made their precious Nimbus brooms slowly shrink, not even noticeable, so it's not until halfway through the match that they realize something's wrong? That's still not it.
What if I- OOMPH- Who had the nerve to run into me? Harry Potter.
"I'm so sorry," he said. His trophy brain Hermione had the concerned look of a girlfriend. Ugh, will they hook up already?
"You need to watch where you're going!" I yell at him.
If there's anything a Slytherin hates, it's Harry Potter, the luckiest Quidditch player alive. Swallowed the Snitch. Broke his arm and caught the Snitch. I think McGonagall helps him, because it always happens to be against Slytherin, and usually against Draco.
Wait- that's it!
"What do you say to that?" Ron Weasley has been talking to me this entire time. Hermione has the look of a concerned mother.
"How tall are you, Potter?"
"Um, I," he stuttered.
"It's a simple question." I step close and measure his head. It's up to my nose. I examine his arm, which comes to my wrist.
"Are you measuring me? What are you doing?"
"You'll see. Oh, you'll see! Haha!" Maybe that came out a little evil.
They hurry away to the Gryffindor common room. I follow from a distance to get a sense of Potter's leg length before heading back to my room.
"You're making a broom for Harry Potter?" asks Gwendolyn Morgan from her portrait. She was the Captain of the '53 Harpies, the best team ever, according to her. She watches as I furiously draw my prototype.
"For the hundredth time, yes."
"So he can beat your team."
"Yes! I don't care if you understand my plan. Now are you going to help or not?"
She examines my sketch. "The bristles are too short. Harry likes to fly at top speed."
"Like this?"
"You don't need more, they just need to be longer. Yes, there you go."
This whole obsession started because of Gwendolyn. My first year I spent a lot of time in the Quidditch hall, looking at all the old Slytherin teams, and when she passed away her portrait was added to the hall. I couldn't believe I could talk to a Quidditch legend, and she was very happy to talk Quidditch. I would stay until one in the morning to listen to her stories, and a couple of times I snuck her out to watch a match.
She's jealous of today's brooms. She had a Cleansweep Five, which was top of the line at one point, but now even a regular Nimbus 2000 is much better. One day she started sharing her ideas for the perfect broom, one that was fast, comfortable, and with quick maneuverability. I started drawing them out, and she'd give feedback, and together we made a design.
I wanted to surprise Gwendolyn on her birthday and make her the broom. I went to Spintwitches Sporting Goods in Hogsmeade to get the supplies. The first wizard wasn't very helpful and told me I couldn't make a broom. I asked to speak to the manager, who told me the same thing and tried to sell me one.
I went back to Hogwarts and found a random hallway where I could cry, because obviously you can't cry in the Slytherin common room. That's when a door opened that I'm pretty sure wasn't there before. I went in and there were all sorts of woods, bristles, and iron stirrups. And tools! Muggle tools!
My friends thought I had a boyfriend because I spent all my time in the shop. It wasn't pretty, but I was able to make a broom for Gwendolyn. She loved it and said it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. And it wasn't long until we started dreaming up the next one.
I took Gwendolyn into the shop and we made all sorts of brooms until we finally made the Black Mamba, the fastest broom in the world.
"What are you going to call it?" Gwendolyn asks.
"Adam. The serpent crusher." I smile. She knows that naming is one of my favorite parts.
"It's your best work yet."
"Thanks Gwen."
I jog to the the banquet hall. I can't believe I'm giving a broom to Harry Potter. But Draco needs to be taught a lesson, and I don't care if he knows I did it, I HOPE he knows I did it, as long as he doesn't tell my parents.
I'm just going to give it to him. Right in the banquet hall. I turn the corner, and there's a crowd around the Gryffindor table. Good! Everyone will know about Adam, and how Harry Potter is using my broom to win the Quidditch cup. I'll be famous! And everyone will want to buy an Adam, or a Mamba, or a Gwen, or-
I'm now by the crowd, and it looks like they're looking at Potter. He's in a good mood. Perfect!
A young Gryffindor can't contain her excitement. "Can you believe it? He got it in the mail."
I finally see what they're all staring at. It's a Firebolt. A brand new Firebolt. My heart sinks.
"It's the fastest broom in the world!"