2. Where Magic Is The Rule.
What a busy day! With no time left to walk, Harry left the Quidditch team meeting by air. Less than a minute later, he dropped into the courtyard and set down gently, propped his Nimbus 2000 against a stone column and hurried into the Transfig room for the afternoon chorus practice.
The desks were all askew with the boys' chorus in a semicircle of desks at front left, musicians at the back, girls' chorus at right middle and soloists at front right. Harry, the 2nd Solo in this gathering, wended his way through the mess to the front.
"Hope I'm not too late," he said to Ron. "Wood was running on about defensive moves."
Ron snickered. "You can't be late, Harry. Ginny would never start without her heart-throb."
"Oh, eat coal," smirked Harry.
"Ginny rules here, oh great one. With all this empowerment, she'll be another Percy in no time. Catch a rising star, Harry!"
Harry took out his coal. "Would you prefer one lump or two?"
Back in the music section, Ginny tapped her wand on a chime, and gestured everyone to shush and sit down.
"Okay. So now, the Third Year combined Boys and Girls Choruses perform Prestidigitation. Our 3rd Solo voice, whose wand was held together by Spellotape last year, can certainly appreciate a song on the fine art of getting his charms right."
"That's my little sister rubbing it in, folks," said Ron, smiling. He was glad he could laugh about it now. It wasn't funny last year....well, to him and Lockhart, anyway; everyone else thought it was riotous.
"And.. music!"
The two fiddles and base viola started it off, and Parvati led the singing:
- 1ST SOLO
- Talents are a feature, but it's not all of you;
- It's not what you have, it's all what you do!
- Doing what you do is how your soul will be seen,
- So do it with flair and be keen!
- 2ND SOLO
- Magic is an art that we apply by the rule,
- As urged in the home, as taught in the school;
- Prestidigitation is perfecting the art,
- So learn it with care and be smart!
- 3RD SOLO
- Misdirected magic is a sure path to doom,
- a highway to grief, a short road to gloom;
- Prestidigitation is the much better way,
- So mind what you do each new day!
Ginny directed the strings with her wand, building toward the crescendo; "Wind it up, wind it up.... and... let 'er rip!"
- ALL
- Prestidigitation is a flick of a hand,
- the wave of a wand, the vocal demand;
- It's a perfect chorus of the arts of the mind,
- A talent of few in mankind!
- 1ST SOLO
- No abra-cadabra can do what we do
- with mind-boggling, knee-weakening flair!
- 2ND SOLO
- No hocus or pocus can ever ensue
- without such care!
- ALL
- Let your magic lead the way!
- 3RD SOLO
- Let your magic lead the way!
- ALL
- Prestidigitation is a flick of a hand,
- the wave of a wand, the vocal demand;
- It's a perfect chorus of the arts of the mind,
- A talent of few in mankind!
- 1ST SOLO
- No mumbo or jumbo can open a door
- with mind-baffling, eye-opening ease!
- 2ND SOLO
- No presto or chango accomplishes more
- than just a tease!
- ALL
- Mind your magic!
- 3RD SOLO
- Mind your magic!
"Wind it up, last chorus.... and let 'er rip!"
- ALL
- Prestidigitation is a flick of a hand,
- the wave of a wand, the vocal demand;
- It's a perfect chorus of the arts of the mind,
- A talent of few in mankind!
"Wind it up for the ending..... and wrap it!" The room echoed with the last thundering note. It was tremendously satisfying, and drew applause not only from the performers, but a very impressed Ginny as well.
And applause from the doorway.
Harry and several others turned, but they only had a moment to see the four short figures outside before they stopped clapping and took off.
Ginny did a zigzag dash through the confusion of desks and milling performers. By the time she got to the doorway, with other curious folk following, the little ones were gone from the corridor ringing the inner courtyard. "Where do they go?" she asked no one in particular.
"Those little ones?" asked Parvati. "Whatever they are, they've been all over the grounds today. We'd probably have even more witnesses if the lot weren't in Hogsmeade."
"Maybe we can't disapparate here," reminded Terry, "but house-elves can. They do some vanishing trick, I know."
Harry agreed. "I saw Dobby snap his fingers and wisp away here. But those four didn't look like house-elves -- or goblins."
"Do you suppose," said Ron, "we've got some new, really short ghosts?"
"Or, Hermione suggested, "Hogwarts has suddenly lowered the school age to 5."
"Or McGonagall's Transfig mistakes have finally escaped from their locked room in the tower!" laughed Seamus.
"Whatever they are, they might have flown away from here," said Padma. "You could probably get all four of those little things on a full-sized broom."
Harry suddenly had a horrible thought, and moved through the crowd in the doorway.
With one glance around, his worst fears were quickly realized.
"My Nimbus 2000!" he wailed.
For Harry, it was like a toddler losing his security blanket. "Who are these little critters, and what did they do with my broom?"
Ron was trying to distract Harry with his usual reverse psychology. "Well, Harry, we might have to replace you. It all depends. If the critter can fly your broom better, Wood will insist on signing it up as the new Seeker! But don't feel bad. You can sit in the stands with us common folk, and shout insults at Malfoy."
"If it's all the same," said Harry, "I'd rather be flying."
"Or you could swap places with the critter. Ever wanted to be a gnome?"
"Is this going to be another 'short' joke, Ron?"
"Accept your shortness, Harry. We do."
"I'm not short. You're just.... taller."
"Then let's go see Filch. If he still has chains, maybe he has a rack, and we can get you stretched to normal height."
"I am normal height, thank you very much. We need to shrink you. Know any good shrinking spells, Hermione?"
Hermione snickered. "I wouldn't shrink anything about you two at all. You're both just the right height. But I'm dying to know who these little ones are....people, or beasts, or whatever."
"I heard about another sighting," said Neville, who was passing through the gate, headed to town. "This morning, when Angelina Johnson was flying to Quidditch, she saw five of 'em at once, but they ran into the tall brush before she could come any closer."
Lavender added her own report as she entered. "You mean the little ones? I just saw one on my way back; it was heading up that hill to the cliff off the school road."
"If that's so," said Harry, "I'm going to the cliff right now. Anyone else?"
Hermione was dubious. "Harry, that's all brambles and vines. You'd do better to borrow a school broom, and fly over it."
"If this critter can walk up to the cliff, so can I. Nobody has seen them fly yet. I'm guessing they're on the ground."
"Well... call out if you see anything. We'll be walking past there to Hogsmeade. Good luck...and be careful."
He heard movement ahead, and ducked behind a barberry bush.
Sure enough, a little one had just reached the clearing at the top. He saw a mop of long dark hair, and a belted robe or long dress. He decided the whatzis was a girl whatzis, and a tiny one at that, but it didn't have an elf's ears, or a goblin's nose, or any peculiar characteristic that he could identify it with.
Then he saw one thing that definitely interested him.
It was much taller than she was. It was thin, and brown, and said Nimbus 2000 on the end.
Harry yelled at her. "Oy! That's my broom!"
The tiny one, startled, clutched the broom tightly....
.... and leapt off the cliff.
"No!" cried Harry.
It almost seemed to Harry like the broom wanted to dangle in the air for a moment, with its tip sharply upward. Its little rider was struggling to hang on. She spiraled around the broomstick, lost her grip and fell off sideways, dropping out of sight. Her scream could not have lasted two seconds, but to Harry it was an eternity. Then came a very noisy crash.
The riderless broom bounced on a rock at the cliff edge, then followed her to the bottom.
