"Harry!" yelled Hermione Granger, "Duck, quickly!" Harry Potter dove to the ground just in time as yet another gledgeon swooped right where his head was one second ago. Harry pushed his glasses farther up his nose.
"What are those things?" he questioned.
"Gledgeons." Ron informed him. "Dad used to see a lot of cases at the ministry in which muggles have been attacked by them." Harry was still confused.
"But—how do they get here?" He got up again and brushed the dust off his buttock. Ron was trying to pinch Hermione's elbow rapidly without her noticing. She did notice, unfortunately, and elbowed him without turning around to see who it was.
"Well there is a spell—I don't know it—but the person casting the spell puts the thought of a person into the gledgeon and then they go and try to knock that person out. In this case, I have a slight feeling the victim might be you." He looked at Harry and grimaced.
"But then why are the gledgeons going after everyone here, and not just me?" Harry demanded. Hermione sauntered across the plain to where Ron and Harry were conversing. She cautiously pinched Ron's elbow and then ran away on her tip-toes, giggling like a four-year-old.
"Stop it, Hermione!" Ron made a fist at her. He turned back to Harry. "It will try to go after anyone in the area. The person casting the spell—" he ducked as another gledgeon hurtled his way—"I'm guessing Voldemort today—" Ron rose again—"well, they throw the gledgeon as far as possible towards whoever they want knocked out—" he ducked, "and then the gledgeons go after the person. But you see, gledgeons can only identify people by their shadows, they cannot see, hear, feel, or smell anything else. So that means—" he stood up again, "as long as your shadow is not visible—" Ron ducked for the last time, "you're safe." He plopped himself beside Harry under the shade of a large oak tree. It was summer vacation and Harry was spending it with the Weasleys. They were out playing Quidditch when the gledgeons arrived, and Harry was having a hard time dealing with all his typical teenage problems.
The sun was shining and the thirteen gledgeons caught and reflected its rays playfully as the swooped around in a search for whom their master had named: Harry James Potter.