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QUILLS

It was Harry's first night at Hogwarts, and he just couldn't sleep. Not for lack of being tired, for sleep had almost claimed him; nor because of excitement, it was far too late to be thinking of such things. No, Harry was up because he had a problem.

"Why do we have to use quills!" Harry muttered to himself.

Having been raised by Muggles, Harry had no clue as to how to write with a quill. He had out everything he thought he needed out in front of him, and was wondering what to do next.

He tried to dip his quill in the inkpot, but went too deep and soaked the whole bottom half. Grimacing, Harry cleaned off the quill and tried again. And again. Finally he figured out just to get the tip wet, but then came the trouble of actually writing with it. He placed the quill to the paper and tried scribbling, but nothing showed on the parchment. He tried turning the quill around and writing with the other side, and a wee bit of writing showed.

Harry whooped for joy, but quickly covered his mouth, remembering that it was late and most kids were sleeping. Anyway, he didn't want to let everyone know that he didn't know how to write with a quill; he'd be stared at even more than he was now, and that would not be a good thing.

Harry sighed and put his quill back to the parchment. Nothing showed. Harry growled and dunked it in the inkpot, soaking the bottom half.