Hogwarts a History – The eyes have halls
Chapter 04 – Clippity Clop

A hard sound like stone striking stone raced down the hall in the early morning. This was followed by a delighted squeal; blonde-haired girl child, aged approximately twelve.

"Turn coming up," Phillene called behind her.

"I'm ready," declared Lavender, staring at the oncoming wall with grim determination.

"Don't go splat Lavender," said a smart-alecky boy on a broomstick.

"You hush. I'll be fiIIIIIIIIINe!"

She was almost right; the board on her feet slid up toward the wall and for a moment, one single perfect moment, she was balanced. The moment ended when inertia, who'd been desperately trailing, finally caught up and bounced the bouncy blonde off the wall.

"Ow! Oof! Eek! Eh! Oh! Un! OO! Uhhhh!"

"And, she's down," said Harry, hovering to a stop.

"She got two more bounces than last time," said Phillene.

Adding one more, she bounced to her feet, "I'm okay," she assured them; because they were so clearly worried.

"Guess those pads really work," it was only the fourth time they'd been tested.

"Good effort all around," she agreed. The pads she wore had been a team project that most of their year group had pitched in on. Most, not including Harry. He'd made a few off-hand comments to Dean who'd gotten the ball rolling, but with his ever encroaching Quidditch schedule, he hadn't the time. They even got Hermione to help despite how annoyed she was with Lavender and Parvati for some reason. "I feel loved."

"You're sure it's not a concussion."

Phillene laughed at her friend's playful scowl, "Why don't you come down here and say that smart guy."

He didn't get off the broom, Wood wouldn't have liked that. Instead, he leaned back, swung around, then back up so he was again sitting on his broom, but now holding Lavender's board.

"Like that?" he grinned a most cheeky grin.

"Oh you!" the blonde pouted, but not really.

"What's all this then!"

It's the fuzz, cheese it!

Lavender jumped at the sudden exclamation and Phillene was certain she saw a hint of a smile crook the old witches' lips. "Ms. Brown. Good morning. Mr. Potter, Ms. Phillene."

"Good morning," the centaur filly chirped; Harry just waved.

"A bit early isn't it?"

"It's the only time the halls are empty enough to do this," said Lavender, accepting her board from Harry.

"I see. And how goes the, hovering board?" It was evident she didn't know quite what to think of her student's project. It was equally evident she did not wish to appear ignorant despite that.

"I'm going to figure this out Professor. I'm going to figure this out if it kills me."

"Your enthusiasm is admirable, but I would hope you'd have the good sense to stop before it came to that."

Lavender smiled, all sweetness and innocence, "Nope."

"Oh dear." It was going to be one of those years. "Mr. Potter, might I inquire what you are doing up there?"

"Captains orders," he said with a well-practiced put-upon look.

McGonagall too gave a groan she'd much rehearsed. "In all my years I've never had a Quidditch captain so, um…"

"Crazy," Harry offered.

"Enthusiastic," she corrected.

"Is that another word for crazy?"

"In some languages," said Lavender.

Now it was McGonagall's turn to look put upon. She shooed them away before it got any worse.

"Well, that was close."

"So now what?"

"Breakfast!"

After breakfast came class which Phillene found simply fascinating. She couldn't ready any of the books but seeing them practice their magic was a wondrous experience. All except the class they did underground, potions. She wasn't aloud in that room.

According to all her new friends she was lucky, and she really wanted to believe them. She assumed the greasy man must be like that annoying yellow haired wizard all the boys despised. Why all the girls seemed to stare stupidly anytime they saw him was beyond her ken, but she was almost certain magic was involved. Had to be.

After class was her favorite part of the day, Quidditch. She couldn't fly, but that didn't matter, it was still the most exciting thing she'd ever seen; especially when the squid was involved.

They were training over the lake again; the squid was in good form. She was galloping around the edges of the water watching them swoop and dive like giant birds, positively enraptured. She didn't even notice when someone started running along beside her till they cleared their throat.

"What are we watching?" the elder asked.

"Quidditch!" she said excitedly.

Her grandfather laughed at her jubilation as he often did, cantering beside her as they watched together, the great battle with the squid and the balls. "They are quite skilled?" he asked.

"I think so," she said. "I'll know more when they play their first game against the snake house. That's on the small green they call the pitch," she said informatively.

"Interesting," he said, stroking his beard, "perhaps I will come and watch."

This idea she liked, and she regaled her elder for some time on all that she'd seen, done and heard for the past few days, since the last time they'd spoken. That was her purpose as hostage, to learn and relay things. To listen, to watch, and most importantly, to not embarrass her herd.

Given the people she was around and all the silly things they did, she wasn't too worried.