CHAPTER NINE

QUIDDITCH TEAM OR CHARMS


Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by the next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry filled Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived two weeks later. Not only had Harry gotten his letters from home as well Aunt Petunia and Dudley, he'd also been given his usual amount of sweets and what not.

As the week progressed, Harry soon remembered that today would be the day he'd make up his mind as to which he liked better, extra Charms lessons with Flitwick or being on the Slytherin Quidditch Team. And as he pondered his decisions, he and Ron descended to the dungeon to begin their Potions lesson of the day with Snape.

"Today," Snape said, in his usual baritone, "you will be learning how to mix a Wiggenweld healing potion. Who here can tell the purpose that it may serve?"

Hoping not to screw up this time, Harry, having had read all about that particular potion, quickly raised his hand before Hermione had the chance. A little surprised, but curious all the same to see if Harry had learned his lesson from last time, Snape ignored Hermione's hand and turned his attention to Harry.

"Very well, Potter," he said, "if you please?"

"The purpose of the Wiggenweld Potion," Harry answered, "is serving as a treatment for most injuries. In a nutshell, the Wiggenweld Potion is a lot like the Muggles' First Aid."

It took a few minutes for Snape to ponder whether or not Harry was being serious or not, but finally, he nodded.

"That is correct, Potter," he then eyed Neville, "and can you tell the class if it would be able to amend something like broken bones in one's wrist?"

Feeling sorry for Neville being picked on, Harry knew he didn't want to humiliate his friend.

"No."

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Do you mean 'no' as in you don't know the answer, Potter? Or as in you haven't read that information in your book yet which I asked you to?"

Catching himself, Harry cleared his throat.

"Err, no. What I meant to say, Professor, is that broken bones are something that Wiggenweld Potion cannot heal. That is something more for the likes of Skele-Gro to use."

"Excellent deduction, Potter." Snape nodded again, "Take ten well-earned points to Slytherin."

Harry smiled to savor his well-earned victory, Snape then turned to the rest of the class.

"Now as Potter has pointed out, a concoction of Wiggenweld Potion should be able to heal any wounds you have. Failure to make it in the right procedure will be severe. Pray tell you don't suffer my wrath."

Harry and his classmates then set work at once, and by the end of class, compared to what happened last week with Draco perfecting the Cure for Boils, most of the class did well. And by the time class ended, Snape turned to the class.

"I am pleased," he said, his stoic interior unfading but his tone made it clear he was satisfied with the class, "to see most of you work hard on this potion. All that remains left is to demonstrate a usage of the potion." Snape eyed Harry, "Potter, would you be so kind as to volunteer to show how this potion works?"

Harry, who had never been asked to voluntarily injure himself before, asked curiously, "How shall I injure myself, Professor?"

"Any way you please, but nothing too graphic."

So Harry then took off one of his shoes, and using his other shoe covered foot, he stepped onto his big toe.

"Ouch," Harry flinched.

He then took a drink of the Wiggenweld Potion and in no time flat, his toe stopped hurting.

"It works. My toe's all better, Professor."

"Good to know." Snape nodded approvingly, he then turned to the rest of class. "That covers this lesson for today, unless you have any more questions?"

Ron raised his hand, Snape nodded to indicate he was all ears.

"Professor, would this potion be able to cure something like scrapping yourself with a piece of glass or broom splitters?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley," Snape confirmed, "I'm certain that it would be able to do just that."

Hermione raised her and asked, "Please, Professor, what about something like most animal bites or stings?"

"Again, Miss Granger," Snape replied, nodding his head, "it should be able to have the same effect on the drinker no matter what. Though it largely depends on the creature in question."

He eyed the rest of the class to see if there were any more questions, but no one else raised their hand.

"Very well then, if that is all, class dismissed."

Harry turned to grab his bag, just as Snape called him back, "Potter, you stay. I wish to speak with you a little more in private."

Harry nodded and turned to Ron, "Go on ahead, Ron. I'll see you at Flying."

"See you there, mate," Ron replied.

Putting his bag down, Harry turned around, "Knut for your thoughts, Professor?"

"I wanted to wait until class was dismissed to commend you for your hard work today. What made you change your mind on learning?"

Harry's answer, it turned out, was exactly what Snape had warned him two weeks prior.

"You said it yourself, sir," said Harry. "Make sure that I am ready next time, otherwise, you'll drop me from the class."

"Smart boy," Snape nodded in approval. "Incidentally, Potter, do you know the Wiggenweld Potion has another usage besides acting like First Aid?"

"I do indeed." Harry replied. "I believe my book said something about it being an antidote to Sleeping Draught and Draught of Living Death."

"That is correct," confirmed Snape, "but as you're a first year, you won't need to worry about those two potions' until you're in your sixth year. So ten extra points to our house for you having done your research."

"Sounds good." Harry nodded. "And thank you, Professor."

"For what?" asked Snape. "You brewed the potion, it's your grade that you've earned."

"For a great lesson today, I look forward to more exciting lessons with you." Snape raised an eyebrow, he wasn't sure if Harry was trying to be a pest or anything, but decided nonetheless to hear him out, "Well, that and I was told to say 'please' or 'thank you' growing up my mom."

"Lily Evans, you mean?" Snape asked, Harry nodded again.

To Harry's surprise, much how Professor McGonagall gave rare smiles to her good students who followed her instructions or anything else, it was now Snape's turn to show one of his own, but it turned out to be a faint smile with his lips, but overall, it was a pretty genuine one.

"And for that reason and your honesty, Potter, I'll add an extra five points as well to our House."

"What for?" Harry wondered.

"I think both you and your classmates will find that good manners will most definitely serve you not only well in school, but real life too." Snape replied.

Harry sighed in relief, he then grabbed his bag. He was about to leave the class when —

"Potter?"

Now what, thought Harry turning around, I don't want to be late for Flying.

"Yes, sir?"

Snape handed him a small bit of parchment which he filled out in seconds flat, "When you do arrive outside the castle grounds, see to it, Madam Hooch gets this. You are aware of what a lateness or absence slip does, I trust?"

"Yes, of course, Professor." Harry nodded. "And thanks again for a great lesson today."

"Thank yourself, Potter," said Snape, "for taking the lesson so well."

"But all just the same…"

Nodding, Snape replied, "You're welcome."

With that done, Harry headed on his way to the Quidditch field, there, all his classmates and Madam Hooch waited patiently for his arrival. Taking out his lateness slip from Snape, Harry handed it to Madam Hooch.

"Sorry, I'm late, Madam Hooch. Professor Snape wanted a few more words with me."

"No worries, Mr. Potter." she replied, nodding warmly as she signed the slip. "You are just in time."

In Flying class, Madam Hooch taught the students the same lesson as before, and she was pleased to see that Neville did a little better than last time. When class was done, she dismissed the class and all the students left. But to her surprise, she saw that the only one who didn't leave was Harry.

"Look sharp, Potter," she called out. "You don't want to be late for Charms, do you?"

"Actually, Professor," said Harry, "I was wondering if I could have a quick word with you?"

"Fire away."

"You remember that proposal you gave me two weeks ago? I've thought about it and," Harry slowed down, "Well, umm —"

"That's not what you really want, is it?" Madam Hooch concluded and Harry nodded. "I understand, Potter. After all, Quidditch is not for everyone." she shrugged, "Then again, neither is Flying, like your friend Miss Granger. Between the two of us, I think she set her expectations a little too high."

Harry didn't know how to answer that one, while it was safe to say that both he and Hermione weren't exactly friends, they were also not exactly enemies either.

"Right." Harry nodded. "And incidentally, if it's any comfort, I'd still like to learn all I can about the ins and outs of how to fly brooms. So, thank you just the same for the offer."

"Well said, Potter." Madam Hooch laughed, "I'd be very happy to teach you all I know about flight."

"And thank you," Harry remembered, "for that copy of Quidditch Though the Ages you gave me for my birthday."

"You are most welcome," said Madam Hooch, her face then became serious. "Now run along, you don't want to be late, tell Professor Flitwick I excused you for being a little late."

"I will," Harry called out, as he grabbed his bag and left. "And thanks again."

"You're welcome," she called back.

When Harry was out of earshot, Madam Hooch thought to herself, her smile returning to her face — What a nice young man, James would be proud.

Charms class, it turned out to go without a hitch, for Harry and his classmates learned all about the wand-lighting charm, which could be useful in dark and dimly lit rooms.

When the class was over, Professor Flitwick said, "All right, class that's all for today. I'll see you all next week. Until then, keep practicing."

Harry nodded to Ron to wait for him outside, he wanted to have a word with Flitwick, Ron nodded back.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, I was wondering if I could have a word with you?"

"Of course, Potter," he squeaked, "by all means. What can I do for you?"

"Well, you remember that proposal you gave me two weeks ago? I've thought about it — I'm in."

When compared to Snape's smile or even Madam Hooch's smile, Harry noticed that Flitwick had the biggest smile of all he saw on his Professors with their lessons today.

"Excellent, Potter. Glad to hear it."

"You also said my mom, dad, Uncle Remus and my step-dad were exceptionally gifted in them." Harry added, "Is that true?"

"Perfectly true." Professor Flitwick replied, nodding his head. "In fact, if my memory serves well, it was one of their specialties."

"There's also two other things I'd like to know," Harry said. "If you don't mind."

"Ask away, Potter," laughed Flitwick "I'm not going anywhere."

"When I saved Neville's Remembrall," Harry explained, "I don't know how, I must've used some difficult charm to save it. Do you know what that was?"

"Of course," said Professor Flitwick, who nodded, "what you used to save Longbottom's Remembrall was an intermediate level charm known as the Summoning Charm, or Accio, as we pronounce it verbally."

"It sounds rather promising," Harry said thinking about the charm.

"Oh, it is," Professor Flitwick confirmed with a warm nod, "a rather useful spell, that one. I was surprised to see that a first year student like yourself use it, as you won't be taught it until your fourth year."

"I see," Harry said, "and there's one other thing. When I used the spell, I didn't utter a word to say the incantation. How is that possible?"

"Oh, that?" asked Professor Flitwick. "What you used is what's more commonly known as a nonverbal spell. It is something all wizards and witches don't start learning until their sixth year. Very tricky stuff to master, but it's really quite fun once you get the hang of it."

"I can imagine." Harry said, growing and fascinated more and more by the minute. "Well Professor, I think that covers it, thank you very much."

"You are most welcome, Potter," Professor Flitwick replied. "Be sure to look out for my owl regarding our tutoring lessons."

"I will." Harry called back as he grabbed his bag and left the classroom.

He was halfway to the staircase where Ron was when he remembered something else, turning around, he re-entered the Charms classroom.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Thanks for the bald eagle quill and the two bottles of ink you gave me for my birthday, Professor."

Professor Flitwick, who was now tidying up his classroom, turned around still beaming, "Of course, Potter. Do you really love it?"

"I do," Harry confirmed. "I use it almost every day in all my classes, as well as when I work on my homework. But something puzzles me though, Professor. You see, I thought that bald eagles were only native to America. How did you —"

"Acquire it?" concluded Professor Flitwick, Harry nodded. "I had it flown in all the way from America with help from some local wizards and witches over at Ilvermorny."

"That's the wizardry and witchcraft school in Massachusetts, isn't it?"

"It is indeed," Professor Flitwick confirmed, "but yes, that's where I got your quill. I trust you know of some of the other schools that specialize in wizardry and witchcraft in our nation?"

"I may have heard of them," Harry confirmed, "There's one in France, it's called I understand it," not knowing too many words in French, Harry mispronounced it several times, "Beauxbuttons? Beaux — err… I mean — Beaubittens?"

"Beauxbatons Academy of Magic," corrected Professor Flitwick.

"Right, that's the one," Harry nodded, "and I heard of the other that's further out in our country. What was it called? Drumstring? Err, no that's not it… I mean, uh, Drumstick?"

Again, to Harry's relief, Professor Flitwick just warmly laughed.

"It's pronounced Durmstrang, Mr. Potter. But I'm glad to hear that you've been doing your research."

"Well, you know what they say about how the mind never stops learning, Professor." Harry said.

"And I'm inclined to believe that it's true," Professor Flitwick agreed. "For that reason, I think you would've made a great Ravenclaw had you not been sorted in Slytherin. But all just the same, I'm glad you're learning other things outside of your normal studies. And incidentally, thank you, Potter."

"What for?" Harry wondered.

"For being such an excellent pupil and being completely different compared to your other Slytherin classmates. And because you've actually been doing so well to look up other things outside of our own school, I think that I shall award you twenty points to Slytherin. Ten for doing research outside of our school and ten for your hard work today."

"You know," Harry added, "Ollivander said that everyone will expect great things from me."

"And he was right, you know," confirmed Professor Flitwick. "I'm sure you've heard this old saying about people and greatness?"

Harry nodded and answered, "Yes. 'Some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.' William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night." *

"Precisely," Professor Flitwick confirmed, "Take another ten points to Slytherin."

"Thanks again, Professor," said harry. "I'll see you later at dinner?"

"Sure thing, Potter, glad you love the quill and take care," Professor Flitwick called out. When Harry was out of earshot, Flitwick smiled and thought to himself — Harry is no doubt whatsoever the apple of your eye, Lily. You have raised him so well.

As they went on their way to the library to study, Harry told Ron about his decision to learn extra Charms with Professor Flitwick.

Ron was speechless, "Surely you must want to have at least some fun this term?"

"Relax, Ron, I do." Harry confirmed. "Besides, there's the first Quidditch match to look forward to when November arrives."

"Oh good," Ron exhaled in relief, "just as long as you don't turn into her."

Harry knew who Ron meant, he did not in any shape or form want to turn into Hermione Granger.

"But still, it should be fun, the extra Charms lessons. Professor Flitwick told me that my mom, dad, Uncle Remus and my step-dad were gifted in them. I'm telling you, some of the old family skills and magic are rubbing off on me."

Ron agreed nodding, but before he could voice his opinion even further about the extra Charms lessons or praising Harry and his family, a rather familiar angry voice which was just right behind them spoke up.

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" Hermione Granger was stomping down the stairs, looking disapprovingly at Harry. However long she waited for Harry and Ron to show up, Harry didn't care.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air as they entered the library to study as a pair of brothers.

"I'm telling you mate, if anyone really needs to sort out their priorities here at Hogwarts, it's her," said Ron. *

Harry nodded, agreeing, "How true."


Author's notes:

* So that was my ninth chapter of the Sorcerer's Stone, and as always with every one of my stories, let me know what you all think so far by leaving your feedback in the comments area.
* The Harry Potter franchise, its characters, elements and everything else are owned and were created by J. K. Rowling.
* Harry's talk about some men 'being born great', was indeed taken from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, and one of my favorite Robin Williams movies, Night at the Museum, it was uttered by his version of Theodore Roosevelt.
* Ron's line about Hermione sorting out her priorities at Hogwarts comes from the Sorcerer's Stone movie, and I won't deny looking back on it, it was a funny line.


That said, until the next chapter my fellow Wizards, Witches and Muggles:
I'm M. R. Parkerson signing off…