"WOOD!" bellowed the Slytherin Captain angrily. "This is our practice time! We got up, especially for today! You can clear off now!"
Oliver Wood frowned.
"But I booked the field!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what you and your team are doing here. I booked it with McGonagall!"
Lyla caught sight of Arabella's pale startled face, and mouth "what?"
Arabella in turn shrugged.
"But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape," stated Flint with a smirk. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.' "
"You've got a new Seeker?" asked Wood, distracted. "Where?"
And from behind the majority of the team, a pale-haired second year stepped forward. It was Draco Malfoy. Arabella could practically feel her jaw hit the floor.
"Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with disbelief. "How's this even possible! Tryouts haven't even started yet."
"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."
The majority of the team held out their broomsticks (minus Lyla, which pleased Arabella greatly), that were highly polished and brand new, with fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One.
"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount, wouldn't you agree, Oliver?"
None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Flint was smirking so broadly his dark cold eyes were reduced to slits.
"Oh, look," snorted Miles. "A field invasion."
The friends who had been sitting in the stands were crossing the grass to see what was going on. Behind them, Pansy and her gang followed suit.
"What's happening?" Ron asked Arabella curiously. "Why aren't you playing? And what are they doing here?
He was looking at the Slytherin team, frowning.
"We've got a new Seeker to train," sniffed Flint with distaste. "I can't even imagine what they're doing here.
"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker," said Malfoy quietly.
"Everyone's just been admiring the brooms Mr. Malfoy bought our team," snickered Bole with a grin. "Good, aren't they?"
Ron and Daphne gasped, openmouthed, at the cluster of superb broomsticks in front of them.
"But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too," giggled Pansy, sneering at the Gryffindor team. "You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."
Her gang of cronies howled with laughter.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "I don't mean to be rude, but it seems like Mr. Malfoy bribed you to accept Draco onto the team rather than getting in on pure talent alone— no offense Draco."
Draco only shrugged, his cheeks flushing even more. Arabella almost felt bad.
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," spat Pansy with a nasty sneer. "No one ever wants to hear what you're thinking, Granger."
Arabella knew at once that the Slytherin second year had said something terrible because there was an instant uproar at her words.
Crabbe and Goyle jumped in front of Pansy to stop Fred and George from jumping on her, Alicia shrieking, "How dare you!"
Daphne was absolutely livid. Without thinking it seemed, she plunged his hand into Ron's robe pockets and pulled out his wand, yelling, "you'll pay for that one!" and pointed it furiously under Goyle's arm at Pansy's face.
A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting the unsuspecting girl directly in the stomach and sending the poor girl reeling backward onto the grass.
"Daphne!" cried Lyla, shaking herself from what seemed to be a frozen trance, "Daphne! Are you all right?"
"Daphne?" asked Arabella tentatively, dropping down to her friend's level and patted her on the back. "Hey, are you—"
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto her lap.
The cruel Slytherins were paralyzed with laughter. Bole was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Pansy and her gang were on all fours, banging the ground with his fist.
"We'd better get her to Hagrid's, it's nearest," said Lyla over the roars of laughter. Blaise gently shifted an arm under the girl and pulled her up by the arms.
"What happened? What happened? Is she ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Colin had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Daphne gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down her front.
"Shove off, kid," snapped Draco, separating himself from the Slytherin bunch.
"Oooh," said Colin, fascinated and raising his camera. "Can you hold her still?"
"Get out of the way, Colin!" bellowed Lyla angrily. She and Blaise supported Daphne's limp body out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest.
"Nearly there, nearly there," said Ron, his face ashen. "Oh god, I'm so sorry— this is all my fault— You'll be all right in a minute — almost there —"
They were within twenty feet of Hagrid's house when the front door opened, but it wasn't Hagrid who emerged. Gilderoy Lockhart, wearing robes of palest mauve today, came striding out.
"Quick, behind here," Arabella hissed, dragging Blaise behind a nearby bush. Lyla and the others followed eagerly.
"— It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Lockhart was saying loudly to Hagrid. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one— I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!" And he strode away toward the castle.
Arabella waited until Lockhart was out of sight, then pulled Daphne out of the bush and up to Hagrid's front door. They knocked urgently. Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was.
"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter seem — come in, come in— thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again—"
Blaise and Lyla supported Daphne over the threshold into the one-roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire crackling merrily in the other. Hagrid didn't seem perturbed by Daphne's slug problem, which Arabella hastily explained as he lowered the dark-haired girl into a chair
"Better out than in," he said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of the sick girl "Get 'em all up, Daphne, all up."
"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," said Blaise anxiously, watching Daphne bend over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand—"
"You know my wands messed up," cringed Ron, teeth chattering.
"I know," whined Daphne, her face buried into the basin. "I just— instinct I guess—"
Hagrid was bustling around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Theo's knees.
"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" asked Hermione curiously.
"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," growled the giant, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."
It was most unlike Hagrid to criticize a Hogwarts teacher, and Draco looked at him in surprise. Hermione, however, said in a voice somewhat higher than usual, "I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job—"
"He was the on'y man for the job," said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle toffee. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me," said Hagrid, jerking his head at Daphne. "Who was Daphne tryin' ter curse?"
"Pansy Parkinson called Hermione something—" said Lyla.
"It was really bad," said Ron in a low voice, "she called her 'Mudblood'," Hagrid."
Hagrid looked outraged.
"She didn'!" he growled at Hermione.
"She did," groaned out Daphne.
"But I don't know what it means," sighed Lyla, meeting her sister's gaze. "I could tell it was really rude, of course—"
"It's about the most insulting thing she could think of," gasped out Daphne, coming up for fresh air. "It's a horribly foul name for someone who is Muggle-born—"
"There are plenty of wizards—" continued Draco carefully, "— much like Pansy's family— who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood."
Daphne gave up a small burp, and a singular slug fell into the basin.
"What's a pure-blood?" asked Arabella.
"Witches and Wizards who hail from a long line of Magic," said Theo, surprising everyone. The boy only shrugged. "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at me for instance— I'm a pure-blood, and I can hardly keep up with potions and transfiguration."
Everyone chuckled at that.
"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.
"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Daphne, wiping her sweaty brow with a trembling hand. "Dirty blood, you see. Common blood."
"It's absolutely ridiculous," said Blaise with a roll of his eyes. "Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out ages ago."
Daphne suddenly wretched and ducked out of sight again.
"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse her, Daphne," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Aldrich Parkinson would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his daughter. Least yer not in trouble."
Arabella would have pointed out that trouble didn't come much worse than having slugs pouring out of your mouth, but she couldn't; Hagrid's treacle toffee had cemented her jaws together.
"Lyla, Arabella," said Hagrid abruptly as though struck by a sudden thought. "Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"
Furious, Arabella wrenched her teeth apart.
"We have not been giving out signed photos!" she said hotly. "If Lockhart's still spreading that around —"
But then she caught sight of Hagrid, who was laughing.
"I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting both girls genially on the back and sending Lyla face-first into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."
"Bet he didn't like that," said Lyla, sitting up and rubbing her forehead.
"Don' think he did," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle toffee, Daphne?" he added as she reappeared.
"No thanks, Hagrid," she responded weakly. "Better not risk it."
"Come an' see what I've bin growin'," said Hagrid, motioning the small group of students over as they finished their tea.
In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Arabella had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder.
"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" said Hagrid happily. "Fer the Halloween feast…should be big enough by then."
"What've you been feeding them?" asked Blaise curiously.
Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check that they were alone. "Well, I've bin givin' them— you know— a bit o' help—"
Arabella noticed Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of the cabin. She had had reason to believe before now that this specific umbrella was not all it looked; in fact, she had the strong impression that Hagrid's old school wand was concealed inside it. Hagrid wasn't supposed to use magic. He had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, but Harry had never found out why— any mention of the matter and Hagrid would clear his throat loudly and become mysteriously deaf until the subject was changed.
"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" said Hermione, halfway between disapproval and amusement. "Well, you've done a good job on them."
"That's what yer little sister said," said Hagrid, nodding at Ron. "Met her jus' yesterday." Hagrid looked sideways at Harry, his beard twitching. "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." He winked at the twins. "If yeh ask me, she wouldn' say no ter a signed —"
"Oh, please shut up," moaned Arabella.
"Enough with this subject already," complained Lyla, shivering.
Daphne delighted with her friend's reactions and snorted with laughter so violently that a spray of slugs splashed across the floor.
"Watch it!" Hagrid cried out in surprise, pulling Daphne away from his precious pumpkins. "Took me ages to get them pumpkins like this— not that you can't control it, but mind yourself now."
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