Chapter 8 in CoS you guys! [The site skipped a chapter and I only just noticed! Hopefully, it is fixed now, but if you want to see the first DADA class, go back one chapter.]


I ended up being immensely glad I left when I did, as Harry and Ron recounted the rest of the class on pixies. We all agreed that Harry should stay as far from Lockhart as he could, although Hermione was still convinced the man only had our best interests as students at heart.

Honestly, to look at the way she was acting you would think he had slipped the girl a love potion.

Harder to avoid was the newer Gryffindor, Colin Creevey. He seemed to have Harry's every move covered, and it was obvious he took pleasure in being able to ask, "All right, Harry?" six or seven times a day.

Hedwig was still angry with Harry, so I offered him the use of Stripes, but he sadly admitted he didn't have anyone to write to while at school anyways.

Ron's wand was malfunctioning, and I kept my distance in all the classes we shared where wand work was required. He really ought to get a replacement, but he was terrified of informing his mother that he broke it.


Things only got worse for the poor boy, as Harry's first Quidditch practice ended up being invaded by the Slytherins. I had avoided being dragged up at the crack of dawn for practice, as Wood had no idea where my dorms were, and had gone looking for Harry after breakfast when he didn't appear.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, as he landed roughly. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

I walked up just as the fight was starting. Slytherins team had appeared on the field, and Wood was not having it. Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape."

I rolled my eyes.

"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'. " Flint enunciated smugly.

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures, came a seventh, smaller boy, a smirk plastered all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words 'Nimbus Two Thousand and One' gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

Oh dear, this was going to be bad.

"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. As for the old Cleansweeps" - he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives -" sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Draco was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

He was looking at Draco, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Draco, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

I was barely hiding my disdain. Really, Draco, what a kiss up. Could he even fly?

"Good, aren't they?" said Draco smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. " They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Draco's face flickered as I gave her a high five.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

There was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!" and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Draco's face.

I, for my part, had grabbed the backs of the twin's robes, struggling to keep a grip.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team was paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Draco was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms.

I didn't know what to do, so I hung back with the rest of the Gryffindors, hiding Ron from view.

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he 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. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front.

"Oooh," said Colin, fascinated and raising his camera. "Can you hold him still, Harry?"

"Get out of the way, Colin!" said Harry angrily. He and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest.

I turned back to Draco. "Just you wait..." I warned ominously.

If it were possible, his pale face got paler, as the thought of my revenge dawned on him. I knew he was remembering how close my Aunt Andromeda and I were, and perhaps the little fact that her husband was a Muggle-born.