But Harry was to have a difficult day before thinking of seeing Hagrid. For the Hufflepuffs, Friday morning meant transfiguration, and then flying. Until then, lessons hadn't been particularly challenging for them with the exeption of potions. Charms had been more fun than work with their leanring the basic levitating charm. Thanks to their reading ahead, they were all able to sit through History of magic without nodding off. Defense against the dark arts was one class they had all looked forward to but found rather disappointing. Professor Quirrel, though learned enough in the subject, seamed so tense he would jump out of his skin at any sudden noise. And he kept to the theory, insisting that actually casting the curses was very dangerous and they might hurt themselves. Astronomy was by far Jon's favorite subject and was overjoyed when Professor Sinistra gave him a permission slip to borrow a book about muggle astrophysics from the restricted section of the library. Herbology was the class they had with their head of house and the Gryffindors. Harry was pleased to share this lesson with Ron because they were able to chat while pruning different weird looking plants. During their first herbolgy lesson, Harry was able to appreciate how difficult it was to put up with Hermione Granger. He could see that she had read up on the subject before the class, but she was behaving as though she was the only one who had and she felt it her duty to help everyone else. Though she knew in theory how to do whatever it was they were working on, she didn't understand that her way was not the only way. This meant that anytime she looked up from her own plant, she would start telling someone else how to do their own one. In the end she took on a rather offended look when Justin remarked to her: 'We can read too, you know!' This caused Ron to grin very widely. The one person Hermione left alone was Neville Longbottom who surpassed the rest of the class at this subject by a long way. But the lesson Harry had been looking forward to since the beginning of turm was flying.

On Friday morning, the Hufflepuff first years made their way to the transfiguration classroom. They felt rather nervous about this lesson. They had tried to read up on it before hand but none of them had been able to make head or tale of the set book. They had tried asking Harold for help but he had merely told them that transfiguration was one subject where the book would only make sense after a few lessons. The jargon was very particular and needed getting used to. He reassured them that after a few lessons, they would pick it up. The lesson itself proved no better. There were so many complicated details to remember at the same time that hardly any of them succeeded in altering their matches. Only Harry and Hannah had finally succeeded in getting one match halfway towards becoming a needle. Professor McGonagall behaved as though it was perfectly normal and awarded them a hefty pile of homework.

After the rather demoralising transfiguration lesson, they walked down to the broomshed where their flying instructor, Madam Hooch, was waiting. To Harry's annoyance, they found that the Ravenclaws were taking the lesson with them and some of them looked as though they hadn't forgotten his prowesses in potions. Madam Hooch barked at them to each stand beside a broom, hold out their right hand (or left for lefthanded people) over the broom and say 'up'. Harry's broom lept up into his hand. He noticed that many students were having trouble. Several Ravenclaws were frowning at him again with their own brooms still on the ground. But Ernie's and Jon's brooms had also responded almost immediately. They had probably flown before. When most of them had successfully tamed their brooms, Madam Hooch move on the next part of the drill: to mount the broom, rise a few inched from the ground, and then come down again. To everyone's surprise, Yvon's broom shot off backwards with Yvon himself clinging to it, screaming the place down. The broom went on zooming back and forth out of controle until Yvon couldn't hold on anymore. Luckily he wasn't very far from the ground when he fell off but he still had a broken leg. Madam Hooch told them: 'You will wait here while I take Houtmann to the hospital wing. When I come back, if I see one broom flying, it's user will be out of Hogwarts before you can say...OUCH!!!!' A staggering Yvon had accidentally trodden on her foot.

The rest of the group watched them walk up to the castle and through the main doors. Then suddenly a big metallic ball shot into view. It seemed to have come from the broomshed. Antony Goldstein of Ravenclaw yelled: 'That's a bludger. Look out, it can crack your skull open if it gets up to top speed!' And, as if on cue, it rushed down towards them. Several had to duck or jump out of the way to avoid getting bashed. As it came past Harry, he knocked it as hard as he could with the palm of his right hand to try and push it away from them. It turned a semi circle in mid air and headed straight towards the greenhouses where they had herbology lessons. It was heading straight for the large greenhouse where most of the rare tropical plants were kept. Harry, having forgotten how to reason before acting, grabbed his broom and zoomed off after it, ignoring the others who were telling him not to because it was breaking the rules. To his surprise, he was able to fly very fast and overtook the bludger as it was making its dive towards the glass roof beneath it. Again, Harry hit it hard with the palm of his hand to push it away. Pain lept in his hand and forearm as it made contact with the heavy metal ball. Again, the bludger turned in mid air and, this time, went flying towards the castle. And again, Harry flew after it, trying to ignore the pain in his right hand and forearm. He overtook it again, just as it was about to smash a window behind which caught a quick glimse of Professor McGonagall stairing at him in horror. He bashed the bludger yet again, feeling something snap in his arm. The bludger went flying down towards the lake.

Harry, satisfied that it would stay away at least until Professor McGonagall came down and did something about it, alowed himself to land the broom safely and flop onto the ground, nursing his broken arm. He vaguely saw Professor Sprout come rushing out of the greenhouse where she had been giving a lesson, point her wand at the bludger and say something he couldn't hear. It stopped in mid air and fell heavily to the ground on the edge of the lake where it lay motionless. But then he was overcome by the pain in his arm and lapsed into unconsciousness.

When he came round, he found himself in a bed in what could only have been the hospital wing. He was glad to feel that the pain in his arm had healed and that it was as good as new. The door opened and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, appeared. Whithout a word, she grabbed his wrist and gave his arm a thorough looking over. Then she said: 'All right Potter, you can go. But no lifting heavy things for a week, is that clear? Now Professor Sprout wants to see you so you had better go to her office.'

This was the one thing he was dreading. He was going to be expelled! Surely he should had know better than to disobey Madam Hooch's order and to risk his life like that. But Professor Sprout was beaming as usual when he entered her office, bracing himself for the lecture he was expecting. She asked him to sit down. 'Well Harry, you saved a whole lot of rare plants from certain death, including several of my own research experiments which I have been working on for years. More importantly, if you hadn't diverted that bludger from the window, it would most certainly have gone straight through it right into Professor McGonagall's skull and she would have been either killed or seriously inujred. You did the right thing in stopping it, which is more important than following the rules in such emergencies!'

Harry couldn't find anything to say. He was too busy feeling relieved that he wasn't going to be expelled. Professor Sprout went on: 'We happen to be a player down in our quidditch team. One of our beaters graduated last year. I think you could do it very well. How would you like to be on the house team? I've discussed this with Professor McGonagall and we think we could persuade the headmaster to bend the rule about first years not being alowed their own broom.' Harry was beginning to wonder if this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like. He could find the energy to produce enough sound to answer with words, but nodded his head frantically. Professor Sprout smiled like no-one had ever smiled at him since his parent's death. She told him: 'I'll tell Jeffrey Pits, the captain, about it. And Professor McGonagall wants to buy your broom after you saved her life.'

Harry finally managed to find his voice: 'But Professor, what happened? What was that ball doing there at all?' Professor Sprout frowned: 'As Professor McGonagall ran out to help you up after you fainted, she ran into that Slytherin boy, Draco Malfoy, who was running away from the broomshed. The idiot had thought it would be very funny to scare you all by letting loose a rogue bludger. Needless to say, his first weekend will be one long detention. I think Professor Snape is giving him a rocket even as we speak. You see how some people do stupid things, just for a laugh, without even thinking about how dangerous they could be.'

Harry was greated by a round of applause and cheering as he returned to the common room in search of his friends. It was about half an hour before dinner so that meant his tea with Hagrid was for another time. He made a mental note to go and explain as soon as possible. His friends, and many other students he hadn't spoken to yet, were delighted to see him still in one piece. A tall broad sixth year introduced himself as Jeffrey Pits, the quidditch captain and beater. He suggested that they meet the next day down at the quidditch pitch for a little practise, but with bats this time. But what kept Harry's attention even more was a third year who shook his hand: 'Cedric Diggory. I'm on the team too, as seeker. It's fortunate that you're here, Harry, because Jeff was having trouble finding another beater. You'll see, quidditch is a most wonderful game and an exellent chance to interact with the other houses.' This stayed with Harry all through the weekend. Cedric struck him as being a really nice person.

At dinner, he had only just sat down at the Hufflepuff table when he felt Professor McGonagall's hand on his shoulder for the second time that week. He stood up and met her eyes. She looked as though she had been crying. Her voice trembled slightly: 'Potter, you realize you saved my life. That bludger, along with broken glass from the window, would have finished me off. Professor Sprout tells me you have agreed to join your house teem. I've already ordered your broom so it should be here sometime next week. Thank you ever so much. You know, I've been teaching here for almost thirty years and never yet has a student broken an arm on my account. Now eat your dinner!' And without waiting for any kind of reply, turned and headed towards the staff table. Harry noticed Hagrid was there too. Hagrid noticed he was looking and gave him the thumbs up. But then another voice spoke from behind him: 'Are you all right, mate?' It was Ron.

His elder twin brothers, Fred and George were with him. They looked rather amused. One of them, he couldn't tell which, said: 'so you're a beater for Hufflepuff, are you? Well we're the beaters for Gryffindor and we're determined to give you a run for your money.' Ron, on the other hand looked concerned: 'Bloody hell, you must have guts, using your arm as a beater's bat. But you got Malfoy in detention and that's priceless.' After patting him on the back, they went on to their own table. Harry thought to himself that preventing damage and saving lives was more important than getting an idiot in detention. Then again, it was sweet justice.

He was just about to get round to finally eating something when Hedwig landed on his shoulder. It was another note from Hagrid. It simply said: 'Tomorrow afternoon, same time. Hagrid.'

At last, Harry was able to submerge himself in his other new favorite hobby since he'd arrived at Hagwarts: eating.