Waking up on Christmas morning I could already feel the weight of presents at my feet that the elves had dutifully stacked there last night. Smiling to myself, I sat up and stretched, yawning with a slight rumble of sound from within akin to a purr. Between all my friends and family members, it's a wonder the presents even fit on the bed. Most of them didn't, in fact. A couple had to be stacked up on the floor beside it so with a wave of my wand I pulled back the curtains then set about ripping off the wrapping paper of everything in sight.
As per usual I had my customary Weasley jumper, inky blue this year with a crescent moon and little stars that had been bewitched to twinkle prettily. I always looked forward to my jumper and quickly pulled it on over my pyjamas. Everything else was just as wonderful and well thought out, the twins had actually sent me a hair ornament this year, which was unlike them. I suspect Ginny helped them pick it out. It was a silver butterfly with blue patterns which fluttered prettily when placed in one's hair, so I hastened to gather up a handful of curls, pull them back from my face then secured the clasp so that my curling hair tumbled over my shoulder and the butterfly fluttered its wings.
Those boys, they really do care. Already I was completely satisfied with my gifts and couldn't ask for anything more, but when I found the last one at the side of my bed, almost unnoticed for how long and thin it was, I ripped off the paper fully expecting a broom from my mother. What I found was a Firebolt. A real Firebolt, the finest broom made to date and as I stared at it dumbly, I saw that my initials had been engraved and painted in gold at the handle. E.S.B. Mine, it was…all mine! There was no way mum bought this for me, this was far too expensive! Desperately I searched for a note or a letter of some kind but found nothing. There had been no mention of it in our previous correspondence, and I'm fairly certain that a gift like this would at least have earned a hint.
Unable to contain it, I let out a scream of pure joy. Grabbing it up I dashed out my room in order to run to Ron and Harry, eager to show them both. In my haste I burst through the door and made them both jump, my broom in hand. "Harry look! Look what I…oh!" Seeing another Firebolt, but this time in Harry's hand, my jaw dropped. "Is that…did you…how…where did…?"
"No way!" Ron practically roared, leaping across the room to see my own broom. "You got a Firebolt too? Who bought it? Did you get a note?"
"N-No, nothing. I have no idea who sent it. I thought maybe my mother but this is far out of her budget, and if Harry you got one too then…wow." I breathed, unable to hide my grin. "Wood's going to go mental. Two Firebolts on the same team! Let's have a look then." We promptly exchanged brooms, grinning all the while. I noticed that his hadn't been engraved, which was good because then we'd always know who's was who's. "If mine is engraved and yours isn't, that can't be an accident. They had to be sent by the same person, but who on earth could afford two Firebolts at once?"
"Well, I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys." Harry said weakly, looking far too stunned to properly think as we both stood holding our own brooms once more.
"I bet it was Dumbledore." Ron snapped his fingers, thinking he'd got it. "He sent you the invisibility cloak anonymously…"
"That was my dad's though. Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of galleons on me. He can't go giving students stuff like this, let alone two at once." Harry reasoned as I continued to stroke my broom lovingly, having plonked myself down on one of the beds and begun to memorise each and every perfect aspect of my new broom.
"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" Ron insisted, making me look up as we pondered. "In case some git like Malfoy said it was favouritism. Hey Harry, Malfoy! Wait 'til he sees you on this! He'll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom this is!" I don't know who was more excited over the fact that Harry had a Firebolt, Ron or Harry. "He'll be even more jealous once he sees Mia's, the Quidditch Cup is as good as ours!" I was inclined to agree, already envisioning it in my head. Wood will probably cry when he sees this, and I can't wait to see Fred and George's faces too. They'll be begging me for a go. "I know." Ron suddenly started, calming down a little. "I know who it could've been. Lupin!"
"Don't be silly Ron, Lupin couldn't possibly afford two Firebolts on a teacher's wage. Besides, if he had that kind of money in the first place, don't you think he'd use it to buy himself some new robes?" His ears went a little pink at my calm, logical reasoning.
"Yeah but he likes Harry and you, and he was away when your brooms got smashed. He might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you both…"
"What d'you mean he was away?" Harry interrupted in confusion as I also frowned. "He was ill when we were playing in that match." He said with a gesture to me.
"Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing. I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?" Wait, come to think of it, he wasn't. Had he been in his own room then? But I had visited and Madame Pomfrey turned me away, he had to have been there at some point. Any further discussion pertaining to the location of Professor Lupin at the time of his illness was put on hold as Hermione then entered the dorm.
"What's going on?" She asked, noticing that we had all gathered together. She was holding Crookshanks in her arms, the squashed face looking particularly unimpressed today on account of the festive tinsel he had no doubt been forced to wear. Ron protested with a shout, telling her not to bring Crookshanks inside as he grabbed his pet rat, Scabbers, and hastily stuffed the thing in his pocket. Completely ignoring him, Hermione dropped Crookshanks onto the bed I was occupying, staring open mouthed at our brooms as her cat climbed into my lap and grumpily plopped himself down. "Oh Harry! Mia! Who sent you those?"
"No idea. There wasn't a card or anything with them." Immediately her face dropped, all excitement gone from her face. When asked what the matter was, she shifted nervously and glanced at both brooms anxiously.
"I don't know, but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?" Good was an understatement. Great was still an understatement. This broom was the best. "So it must have been really expensive…"
"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together." I flashed Ron a grin, the both of us rather smug about the fact.
"Well, who'd send Harry and Mia something as expensive as these, and not even tell them they'd sent it?" I could see what Hermione was getting at and why she was apprehensive, and I could also see where this was going. She thought Sirius Black had bought these brooms. It was impossible, pure and simple. There was no way Black would have access to this kind of money, and if he ever stepped inside a shop, he'd be recognised immediately. Especially Diagon Alley, considering how many posters of his face was plastered around the place.
"Who cares? Listen Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"
"I don't think anyone should ride those brooms just yet!" Squeaking loudly, I was about to tell Hermione exactly why it was impossible for her fears to be realised when without warning, Crookshanks dug his claws into my legs and sprung with a wild yowl for Ron and landed on his chest, clawing at Ron's pocket where Scabbers tried to flee over his shoulder as Ron bellowed. It was a mad scramble for rats, cats and Merlin knows what else and in the confusion, the brooms were momentarily forgotten. Ron tried to kick Crookshanks but missed, hitting Harry's trunk instead which hurt him like hell as something fell out from a grubby looking old sock and whistled loudly. A sneakoscope. Harry quickly stuffed it back into the sock he'd been keeping it in as Ron demanded that Hermione take her cat out of their room as I pulled out my wand to fix Ron's pyjamas, his now broken toe and the claw marks Crookshanks had left in his chest.
Things were not good between Ron and Hermione after that, the pair of them angry with each other on account of Crookshanks and Scabbers. Harry and I left them to it, devoting our time to admiring our Firebolts and waiting for the blizzard outside to ease up so that we could finally fly them. The mood did not improve between Ron and Hermione even as we all went down to dinner, where the Great Hall was shockingly empty save for a large table big enough to seat a dozen or so people. "Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore welcomed enthusiastically as the four of us entered. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the house tables…sit down, sit down!"
Ushered into our seats, Dumbledore then had everyone pull crackers, and when I pulled one with Hermione, I got a crown. A real life crown, made from solid gold and everything. With a shrug I put it to one side, not wanting to ruin my butterfly hair ornament. Halfway through dinner, Trelawney came in to join us, though she ranted about something to do with thirteen to a table, people dying, the usual really. In any case, she sat down with us after Dumbledore reasoned adding to the number of people sitting down would fix everything, so she did.
Although the dinner was as amazing as always, both Harry and me were of the same mind that all we wanted was to return to our dorm in order to take out our Firebolts again. So after wolfing down some pudding, enjoying the festivities as much as we could before our patience ran out then together with Ron we hurried from our seats. Hermione stayed behind to talk to McGonagall about something and I didn't think anything of it. At least, until she showed up in the common room just as Harry and I rushed down from the dorms with our brooms in hand.
"So, these are the brooms, are they?" McGonagall questioned, studying the both of us carefully. Without hesitation, I sent a look to Hermione who had hurriedly buried her nose in a book. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick each, Mr Potter, Miss Black. May I?" Holding her hand out towards Harry, he had no choice but to let McGonagall take his first and then mine, inspecting them both closely. "And there was no note at all? No card? No message of any kind?"
"No."
"I see. Well, I'm afraid I will have to take these." My jaw dropped in disbelief.
"But why professor? They're just brooms!" Giving me a stern look, McGonagall informed me curtly that they would both have to be checked for jinxes, mentioning that they would have to be stripped down by Madame Hooch and Professor Flitwick to be sure of anything. "Strip it down? Strip it down?! You can't be serious professor!"
"Oh I assure you I am perfectly serious, Miss Black, and as a prefect I would expect that you would understand the necessity of precaution." Clamping my mouth shut, I looked to Ron and Harry with alarm. "It shouldn't take more than a few weeks, you will have them back once we are certain they are both jinx free." Harry protested, insisting that there was nothing wrong with either broom but McGonagall refused to hear any argument against her decision and promptly left with both brooms in hand. Ron rounded on Hermione.
"What did you go running to McGonagall for?!"
"Because I thought…and Professor McGonagall agrees with me…that the brooms were probably sent by Sirius Black!"
"That's ridiculous!" I groaned, rubbing my face as I felt a strong tug of loss over my beloved new broom. "Black has no money, would have no hope of even stealing these brooms which would have been fiercely guarded and protected whilst unpaid for, and Black has no wand! There's no way he could have jinxed them!"
"Well, what if he had stolen a wand?"
"Then a report would have gone to the ministry for a stolen wand, and we'd be given a warning that Black was armed as well as dangerous." Honestly I didn't want to be angry with Hermione, she was only doing what she thought was best, but I was struggling all the same. "Quite honestly I would rather fly the broom and find out it had been jinxed afterward, at least then I would have got a chance to actually fly the ruddy thing." Harry and Ron agreed, and for the rest of the evening, none of us talked again.
