"What's our first class again?" asked Harry. Brooke looked at the class schedule next to her plate of waffles and bacon.
"Potions, with the Slytherins," she answered. Ron let out an exasperated sigh.
"Snape's supposed to favor those from his own house, I guess we'll see if it's true," he said.
"We'll just need to make sure we're extra attentive and stay on our toes," I said. I took a swig of my orange juice and looked at my own schedule next to me.
Today we would have Potions, History of Magic, Charms, and Defense against the Dark Arts. Potions was only held twice a week, with Double Potions every Friday morning. Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws, Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and History of Magic were all three times a week. Astronomy was every Wednesday at midnight and Flying Lessons were every Thursday afternoon with the Slytherins.
"I'm glad we'll have some classes with Devin and Jeremiah, at the least," said Ron. "Even if some of them are with Slytherin."
"Speaking of Devin, I'm eager to see how he's doing with the Slytherins. He would've had to room with Malfoy and his little gang hoodlums," said Brooke.
"I guess we'll find out in a minute," Harry said looking at his watch. "It's almost 9:30. We've got to be in class at 9:45."
"Any idea where it's at?" asked Ron. Brooke looked at her schedule again.
"Looks like it's down in the dungeon somewhere," she answered.
"Well, that's depressing," I said.
"The Slytherin's should feel right at home then-OW!" Brooke had kicked Ron from under the table.
"Be nice!" she reprimanded. Harry and I let out a snort as he rubbed his leg and mumbled under his breathe.
I stood up and picked up my cauldron filled with potions ingredients and textbook.
"Shall we get going then?" I asked.
"But I'm not done yet!" Ron complained. I loved eating as much as the next person, but dear Bob, Ron was a straight up piglet.
"You act like you're never going to have another meal," laughed Harry.
"I may not after having this class!" Ron grabbed his supplies, and a piece of toast, and followed behind us.
The dungeon was much colder than the rest of the castle and was only lit by the torches along the walls. The Potions classroom, didn't fare much better, either. There were jars of pickled animals along the walls and a mixture of smells from the potions ingredients. The tables, that could seat at least eight people, were stained and scorched from years of brewing. In the front of the room was a large blackboard and to the right was a closed door. It probably led to the supply closet.
Walking into the classroom there weren't too many students yet, we had arrived early. Hermione was already there pouring over her potions book and organizing her ingredients. I set my things down on one of the front tables, along with Brooke, Harry and Ron.
A few more people walked in, including Devin, and he sat down next to Brooke, on the end of the table.
"Morning!" I said, turning to him.
"Morning," he said, with a tired expression
"So, Devin," began Brooke. "How'd it go?"
"I'm rooming with Malfoy. How do you think it went?" he asked.
"That bad, huh?" asked Ron
"Yeah, especially since they found out I'm muggle-born and then spread it through the whole common room. Most of them won't speak to me, which really isn't a bad thing when you think about it, and Malfoy tried to bow up at me."
"Are you serious?" I laughed.
Devin wasn't a very big guy, but he had begun gaining some muscle over the course of the summer and was a little smaller than Crabbe and Goyle. He was certainly bigger than Malfoy, though. He'd told us that he'd been bullied a lot throughout school and had begun working out in order to defend himself. He said that bullies only answered to one thing and he tended to use his fists rather than his words. After being in a few fights, to his mother's disdain, nobody really messed with him anymore. They knew he wasn't a pushover.
"What happened?" inquired Harry.
"Prefect came over before anything got good," he said. "Malfoy wouldn't have hit me anyway, he's just a coward. He prefers for Crabbe and Goyle to do his dirty work for him."
"You're welcome in our common room anytime, mate," offered Ron. "I'd hate for you to have to be with THEM all of the time."
"I'll definitely take you up on that offer,"
The classroom was quite full now, and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken up residence at our table for some reason. I know I'd been determined to be friendly with the Slytherin's, but they weren't exactly making it a picnic.
The door burst open with a loud bang and Professor Snape walked to the front of the room. He quickly took roll, paused at Harry's name, and sneered at him.
"Harry Potter. Our new Celebrity."
The three amigos sniggered softly next to Harry. I don't think I was going to like Professor Snape very much.
"There will be little foolish wand waving and no silly incantations in this class," he began. "You are here to learn the subtle and exact science and art that is potion-making. Many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I hardly expect any of you will really understand the beauty of a softly, simmering cauldron and the delicate power of liquids coursing through human veins. I can teach you how to bewitch the mind, ensnare the sense, and stopper death. If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach, that is."
Well, he was just a peach, wasn't he? He reminded me of what it was like to eat one of those really sour Warheads, except you couldn't spit it out after you'd had enough of it.
"Potter!"
Harry nearly jumped ten feet in the air.
"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
How in Bob's name was he supposed to know that? I saw Hermione's hand shoot up in the corner of my eye.
"I don't know, sir" replied Harry. The side of Snape's mouth curled into a sneer. He was humiliating him on purpose! He ignored Hermione's hand and continued on.
"Well, let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione's hand skyrocketed again and Harry just looked like he wanted to crawl under his desk. Malfoy and his gang were practically rolling with laughter as quietly as they could.
"I don't know, sir," Harry said.
"Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it Potter?" Harry just stared at him with pure malice. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Hermione practically launched herself out of her chair.
"I don't know, but clearly Hermione does. Seems a pity not to ask her." Snape looked furious and there were several giggles throughout the room.
"Quiet!" he said threateningly to us. He grabbed a stool and sat it down directly in front of Harry, looking him in the eyes.
"Put your hand down you silly girl," he snapped at Hermione. "For you information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?"
Everyone scrambled for a quill and paper and tried to remember what Snape said. He said it so fast and quietly that I wasn't even sure everyone had heard him.
He walked behind his desk and began jotting something down in a notebook.
"And Gryffindor's note that a point will be taken from your house for your classmate's cheek," Snape said as a final note. There was a collective groan from most of the Gryffindors.
"Now, pair up with each other. I expect you to make a cure for boils, by the end of the lesson. The instructions are on the board." Snape flicked his wand at the board and the instructions for the potion appeared.
Brooke and I paired off and began searching through our supplies for the correct ingredients.
"I'll crush the snake fangs, if you want to set up everything else," she said.
Brooke put six snake fangs in the mortar and began crushing them up while I set up the cauldron and gathered the remaining ingredients of horned slugs and porcupine quills. Ron and Harry were working together next to us and Devin was working with Hermione. Lucky. I bet theirs turned out perfect.
"Snake fangs are crushed. What next?" asked Brooke.
"'Add four measures of the crushed fangs to your cauldron and heat at 250 degrees for 10 seconds,'" I got a measuring spoon and Brooke got the cauldron heated up properly. I scooped the excess off the top of my spoon with my finger and poured the fangs into the cauldron. We waited ten seconds and Brooke waved her wand over the cauldron as per the instructions. Every potion needed a dose of magic or it wouldn't work properly.
Now we had to wait for 33-45 minutes before we added the horned slugs. Professor Snape walked around the classroom critiquing everyone's potions, except for Malfoy. He seemed to really favor him, for some reason, and Malfoy was taking full advantage of it. He praised him more than the other Slytherin's.
Once the time was up, Brooke removed the cauldron from the fire before she dropped in the two porcupine quills. I stirred the potion five times before I waved my wand once more over it. It was supposed to be fuming pink when brewed correctly, but ours was fuming a deep red. Snape walked over to us and inspected our potion. I didn't even make eye contact.
"You've not crushed the snake fangs properly, the potions much too thick. Who crushed the fangs?" he asked. Brooke meekly raised her hand, but before he could say anything, his attention was taken away by the sudden shrieks behind us.
"Idiot boy!" he yelled, walking to the back of the room. Brooke gave a sigh of relief.
Neville had melted Seamus's cauldron and his potion spilled all of the floor and on him. He was covered in boils, with some beginning to form on his face.
"I suppose you added the porcupine quills before removing it from the fire?!"
Neville simply cowered in fear.
"Finnigan, take him to the hospital wing!" Snape spat. He waved his wand to clean up the mess and was even shorter with everyone the remainder of the class. Luckily, he had forgotten about Brooke and we eventually made it out of there alive. We parted ways with Devin outside the classroom and continued to our next class.
"You were right about Snape favoring the Slytherin's," I said.
"Did you see the way he was fawning over Malfoy!? Makes me sick!" complained Brooke.
"I just feel bad I got a point taken away from Gryffindor," sighed Harry.
"Don't worry about," said Ron. "Snape's always taking points from Fred and George."
"It really seemed like he had it out for you, Harry," said Brooke.
"Seriously! The only one in our class that even knew any of that stuff was Hermione and she's practically memorized the whole book," I added.
"Maybe our next class won't be as bad," said Harry trying to be positive.
We entered the History of Magic classroom and sat in individual desks. The most exciting part of the lesson was when Professor Binns, who turned out to be a ghost, floated through the blackboard. The excitement quickly fizzled out as we sat and took notes for the rest of the hour on the duel of Emeric the Evil and Egbert the Egregious.
Lunch was after History of Magic and then we headed to Charms. It was the subject I was most looking forward too. There was a charm for practically anything and they were all equally useful. There were charms for cleaning and cooking like Mrs. Weasley used, and then there were charms like the Undetectable Extension Charm on our trunks and Mr. Weasley's car.
Charms was taught by Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw. He was a very short man and had to stand on a stack of books for all of us to see him. I took out my quill and parchment as he began his lesson.
"The first, and simplest, charms you will learn are the Wand-Lighting Charm and Wand-Extinguishing Charm. The names of the spells are pretty self-explanatory. One charm is used to illuminate the tip of your wand and the other is used to put it out. The charm was invented in the 18th Century and was first publicly used by Levina Monkstanley, much to her colleagues' astonishment, when she used it to find a quill in a dark corner. It is not only used a handy source of light, but also a repellent for Gytrashes and malevolent spirits.
"Can it be used on Peeves?" asked Dean. A roar of laughter was heard around the class and even from professor Flitwick.
"Unfortunately, no." he explained. "Peeves is a Poltergeist, not a ghost. While poltergeists are susceptible to jinxes and hexes, once they've decided to take up residence, it's impossible to expel them. Now, there are no special movements for these spells. You will simply hold up your wand and say Lumos. To extinguish the light you will say Nox."
Professor Flitwick turned off the lights in the room and shut the curtains of the windows, allowing us to see how effectively we could use the spell.
I held up my wand and said, "Lumos." The tip of my wand glimmered with a warm, white light and lit up the area around me.
"Excellent, Mrs. Hammons! Mrs. Granger!" exclaimed Flitwick. I smiled with pride and saw that Hermione and I were the only ones who got it on the first try. Others were glowing faintly, like Harry's, and some were glowing scarlet, like Ron and Brooke's.
"If the light on your wand is only faintly shining put more of an 'oomph' in it and if its shining scarlet you've put too much of an 'oomph,'" explained Flitwick. "Those of you who have gotten the hang of it please begin practicing the Wand-Extinguishing Charm."
I held up my wand once more and said, "Nox." The light flicked off like a light switch and the area around me darkened.
"I'm just gonna pat myself on the back now," I bragged. I got a unified, "shut up" from Harry, Brooke, and Ron. I needed this boost of confidence after Snape's class this morning. He just left a bad taste in my mouth.
The rest of the class was spent perfecting the charm until everyone had gotten it down pat. Even Neville, who had returned boil-free from the hospital wing, had gotten it perfect.
The next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell. We had taken to calling him Professor Squirrel because of how jumpy and twitchy he was all the time. It was like he was waiting for someone to jump out and say "BOO!"
The first lesson consisted of learning how to create red and green sparks from our wands. The purpose was to use theses sparks as different signals for communication. You could communicate long distances or use them as a sign of distress.
The rest of the day went as normally as expected and the next day consisted of two new classes: Herbology and Transfiguration.
Herbology was taught in the greenhouses by Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff. She was a portly, old which with patched clothing and always wore a smile on her face. The first lesson was spent teaching us the Fire-Making Spell (Incendio). Apparently it could help keep at bay, and even destroy, many dangerous plants. She did urge us, however, to not use it on the plants in the greenhouses. Many of them were difficult to cultivate and were used in potion-making. She explained that some of the rarer plants were even used by the Ministry of Magic.
"Think I could set fire to Malfoy's robes with this?" questioned Ron.
"And you could also set fire to our house points," replied Harry. Brooke and I laughed as we walked into the Transfiguration classroom and saw a familiar face.
"Jeremiah!" I waved to him across the room. I had totally forgotten Transfiguration was with the Ravenclaws.
"Long time no see!" Brooke said bounding over to him.
"We just saw each other the other day, dummy," he said smiling. Ah, how I've longed for his insults.
"What's it like being in the smart house?" I asked.
"You WOULD only focus on that one point," he said shaking his head. "But it's great, although our common room can be difficult to get into sometimes."
"What do you mean?" asked Harry. "We just have a password."
"We have to answer a riddle and if you get it wrong you just have to wait for someone else to solve it before you can go in."
"That's got to be annoying," stated Ron.
"Yeah," Jeremiah nodded to two boys talking next to him. "Anthony, Terry, and I were all stuck outside last night until Padma came and solved it."
"I'd have to go ahead and just set up a tent outside," laughed Brooke.
"You could even have a little campfire!" I added.
"We could make s'mores!"
"We need to make s'mores in the common room fireplace!"
"All in favor of making s'mores raise your hands!" Everyone raised their hands except for Ron.
"Ron, why aren't you raising your hand?" asked Jeremiah.
"Because I don't know what a s'more is," he stated.
"It's a life changing experience," I said grabbing his hand and putting it in the air. "It's settled then. We're going to get together and have s'mores. Jeremiah, we're owling our parents today for food."
"You might want to go ahead and add sweet tea for Devin too," said Jeremiah. "I think he's been having withdrawals. I saw him glaring at his pumpkin juice at dinner last night."
"We'd better take our seats, class is about to start," said Harry.
"Look at you being all responsible and what not," I chuckled.
"Shut up," he grinned.
I took the seat next to Jeremiah and the others sat next to me. The door to the classroom opened up and in walked….a cat?
"Tell me y'all are seeing this too," I said, as the cat hopped on top of the desk. They slowly nodded in disbelief and Brooke nearly tipped her desk over rushing to the front of the classroom.
"Kitty!" she yelled excitedly. She scooped up the cat in her arms and snuggled it profusely. It struggled to get away from her, but she was holding it too tightly.
"Brooke, maybe you shouldn't do that," Harry cautioned. "What if it's Professor McGonagall's pet or something?" She looked at Harry and pouted.
"But she's so cute!"
"Hey, doesn't that cat look a little strange?" asked Jeremiah. I looked at the cat closely and noticed it had little markings around its eyes that looked like a pair of glasses.
"Brooke, let go of the cat!" Jeremiah said in a panicked tone, but it was too late. To everyone's astonishment that cat had transformed into Professor McGonagall. Jeremiah had figured it out. She was an animagus.
Brooke, who had paid no attention to Jeremiah's warning, was now rubbing her face lovingly against Professor McGonagall. She looked like she wanted to transfigure her into a bug and squish her.
"I wish I had a camera," whispered Harry. This was priceless. No one dared laugh, but everyone strained to hold it in.
"Are you quite done, Mrs. Landers?!" Professor McGonagall said sharply. Brooke finally looked up and gazed into McGonagall's eyes with a look of horror on her face. I wasn't ever going to let her forget this.
Brooke stepped away from her and stuttered through a mixture of an apology and how she just couldn't help herself because she made such a cute cat.
"Take. Your. Seat." McGonagall seethed. Brooke hurried to her seat and didn't say another word the entire lesson, which consisted of transforming matches to needles. Surprisingly, Brooke's performance had impressed Professor McGonagall who said she had a natural knack for Transfiguration. She and Hermione were the only ones who came close to transfiguring their matches all the way. I think Brooke made up for the cuddling incident somewhat. Transfiguration was very difficult magic and Brooke having a natural ability for it was quite impressive.
Continuing through the week's lessons, I found that I was absolutely terrible at Astronomy. I could retain the information about the planets just fine, but if you asked me to chart their movements, I was lost. For some reason, it just didn't click with me. I would definitely need Hermione's help for future homework or tests.
Flying lessons were only a class that would be held the first term. Most children that grew up in wizarding families already knew the very basics of flying, and those that hadn't learned or came from muggle families could pick it up pretty quick. It wasn't necessary to spend an entire year learning how to fly.
"So instead of our regular break in the afternoons, we'll have Flying Lessons," I said looking at our schedule.
"It'll be a breeze," said Ron. "Weather's perfect today and it's not too windy. Great conditions for flying" Harry poked his breakfast in a dejected manner.
"What's up, Harry?" asked Brooke.
"We have flying with the Slytherin's today. It's just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick, in front of Malfoy," he voiced.
"Don't be so negative!" I scolded. "You're not going to make a fool of yourself. It's easy to ride a broom. It's easier than riding a bike and I should know because I have no idea how to ride a bike."
Harry and Brooke snorted and Ron continued in my effort to encourage him.
"You're not going to be the only who hasn't rode a broom. Over the summer we played a small game of Quidditch and it was Devin's first time to ride a broom and he did great. He was a little shaky, but he got used to it and was able to do small maneuvers."
"Besides, Malfoy's been telling anyone who will listen that he's narrowly escaped passing helicopters. You'd have to be an expert to even go that high," said Brooke. "He's all talk."
"Look, mail's here!" said Ron. Looking up dozens of owls were flying in through the small windows in the ceiling of the Great Hall. They dropped packages, and sometimes droppings, onto the tables of their respective owners. I wouldn't' be expecting Mr. Bobbles for probably another week. Jeremiah and I had gone to the Owlery, like we had discussed, and sent both of our owls home with a list of groceries. I wondered if they would even be able to carry it all.
"Hey, Neville's got a Remembrall!" said Dean. Neville had opened up a small package from his grandmother and pulled out a clear ball, about the size of a marble, filled with white smoke.
"I've read about those," said Hermione, with a sparkle in her eye. "If the smoke turns red it means you've forgotten something."
"The smoke would never be white for me," I laughed.
"Looks like it's not clear for Neville either," said Seamus. The ball had filled with red smoke.
"The only problem is, I can't remember what I've forgotten," said Neville.
"Hey, there's been a break in at Gringotts!" Ron exclaimed, holding up the front page of this morning's Daily Prophet he had just received. In large print was a headline that read Gringotts Break-In Latest.
"I thought it was supposed to be impossible to break into," said Hermione.
"It is!" continued Ron, "Listen: 'Believed to be the work of dark witches and wizards unknown, Gringott's goblins insist nothing was taken. The vault in question, number 713, was in fact emptied that very same day."
"That's the vault Hagrid and I went to!" said Harry in shock.
"Did you see what was in it?" asked Brooke.
"Kind of. It was a small, grubby looking package. It didn't look very important to me."
"Curiouser, and curiouser…" I said.
The package may have in fact been small, but for someone to go through the trouble of breaking into Gringotts, it had to be extremely valuable. They had to be an extremely powerful wizard or witch to not only break in, but get away successfully.
That afternoon we joined the Slytherins in the Training Grounds, near the greenhouses. The grass was green and there were several stone ruins scattered about. Twenty brooms were lined up, ten on each side, in the grass.
"I'm glad we played Quidditch this summer," said Devin, standing opposite Ron with the Slytherins.
"Like we told Harry this morning, a lot of kids haven't even flown before, so there's nothing to worry about," I said.
"Oh, I'm not worried. I was just saying, I'm glad that we played Quidditch this summer."
Ron, Brooke, and Harry fell out laughing, at the look on my face. Here I was trying to be comforting and this nitwit wants to be the new King of Sarcasm!
"I hope you fall off your broom!" I spat.
"Great comeback. A-plus," he said clapping his hands. UGH! He was just so irritating!
"Shut up!" I snapped at the others, who were nearly on the ground laughing.
Madame Hooch, a witch with short, grey hair, approached the class and adjusted the gloves on her hands.
"Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for you? Everyone step up to the left side of your broomstick, stick your right hand over your broom, and say 'up.'"
"Up!" shouted everyone. My broom simply twitched, but continued to lay on the ground. Harry and Devin's brooms, however, shot up into their hands immediately, but they were some of the only few that did.
You didn't have to say "up" to even have to use the brooms at all. It was more of a gauge on the brooms responsiveness to your magical abilities. It was also a way for Madame Hooch to see who would need more practice. I was fairly decent on a broom, but I was by no means and expert. I preferred walking, rather than riding a broom anyways. It was a fast way to get around, but it wasn't the best for long distance travel. You had to fly low enough where the lack of oxygen didn't bother you, but high enough where muggles couldn't see you. It seemed too much of a hassle for me.
It took a few tries, but my broom hovered into my hand. Ron's broom had smacked him right in the face, to everyone's delight.
"Now mount your brooms like this so you don't go sliding off the ends," she said demonstrating the correct mount. You had to sit between the middle and the bristles. Sitting directly in the middle, you were too close to the front and you would have a hard time leaning properly to steer. Too far back and you would, indeed, fall off the end.
"When gripping your broom, place your dominate hand in front. This will be the hand you will use, along with your body, to steer. Mr. Malfoy fix that grip, your hands are much too far apart."
We sniggered and Malfoy glared furiously at us.
"Been avoiding helicopters with that grip, have you Malfoy?" whispered Ron. If looks could kill, Ron would be dead twice over, but it just made it all the funnier.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you'll kick off from the ground, hard," said Madame Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight down by leaning forward slightly. Three, two,-MR. LONGBOTTOM!"
Neville, out of nervousness, had kicked off from the ground before she had blown the whistle and shot up like a rocket. He had to have been twenty feet in the air. His face was as pale as Nearly-Headless Nick's and, in a panic, he slipped and fell to the ground with a thud and a loud crack.
The class rushed over and Madame Hooch had to shove a few people out of the way to get to him.
"Is he okay?" asked a worried Lavender.
Madame Hooch set him up carefully to examine him.
"Ow, ow, ow," he complained, clutching he arm to his chest.
"Poor boy, looks like a broken wrist," said Madame Hooch. "I'll take you to the hospital wing. Madame Pomphrey will fix you up in a jiffy." She stood Neville to his feet and turned to address the class.
"None of you is to move while I'm gone! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts faster than you can say 'Quidditch!' Come on, dear."
She escorted Neville away from us, and back to the castle. When they were far enough away Malfoy laughed loudly.
"Did you see the fat lump's face?!" The other Slytherins burst out in laughter. Brooke and I had to grab Devin to prevent him from giving Malfoy a well-deserved punch. No doubt it would improve his looks, but Malfoy just wasn't worth him getting in trouble.
"We'll pretend we didn't see anything, but do you really think the other Slytherin's will?" I hissed quietly. He stopped struggling.
"No, but it'd certainly make me feel better," said Devin.
"It'd make everyone feel better," said Brooke.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" we heard Parvati spit.
"Oh, sticking up for Longbottom?" cackled Pansy Parkinson, with the other Slytherin girls joining in. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."
"You should really stop referring to yourself in third person, Pumpernickel," said Brooke, stepping in front of Parvati.
"It's PANSY!" she shrieked.
"Yeah, I'd say you are," replied Brooke. The Gryffindors and Devin roared with laughter and Pansy looked like she wanted to strangle Brooke.
"Look, it's that stupid thing Longbottom's grandmother sent him," Malfoy had darted forward and snatched the fallen Remembrall off the ground. He held it up for the other Slytherins to see.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about the roof?"
"Give it here, Malfoy!" yelled Harry, attempting to snatch it back from him. Malfoy dodged out of the way, mounted his broom, and hovered above our heads.
"You want it Potter? Then come get it!" Harry grabbed his broom, but Hermione grabbed a hold of his arm.
"You can't! You heard what Madame Hooch said! You'll be expelled!" she pleaded. Harry looked like he couldn't give diddly-squat what Madame Hooch said, at the moment. He snatched his arm away from Hermione and flew in there air like he'd done it a million times.
"What. An. Idiot." sighed Hermione.
"Hermione, I know you want to keep Harry out of trouble, but sometimes the rules prevent us from doing the right thing," I said. Wow, that actually sounded intelligent. Bravo, me.
Hermione gave me a sharp look, but she didn't disagree.
"Give it here, or I'll knock you off that broom!" threatened Harry. "There's no Crabbe or Goyle to protect you up here." Malfoy's face gave way to a worried look and then he changed it back to its regular sneer.
"Have it your way then," he said throwing the ball as far as he could. I couldn't even see it. Harry took a sudden dive toward the ground and Parvati and Lavender screamed.
"He's falling!" screamed one.
"No, look!" said Ron happily.
Harry reached out his hand, clutched something, and straightened his broom. He held the small Remembrall up in the air, in victory. We cheered and ran towards him as he landed.
"That was wicked, Harry!" Dean slapped Harry on the back.
"You sure you've never flown before?" I laughed.
"HARRY POTTER!" Everyone froze as Professor McGonagall marched over to us. "I never…how DARE you…might've broken your neck….!
"But Professor-"
"I don't want to hear it Mr. Weasley! Potter Come with me!" Harry looked at us with pleading eyes and grudgingly followed after McGonagall.
There was no living with Malfoy for the rest of that lesson after Harry's exit. He bragged to the Slytherin's about how he got the famous Harry Potter expelled. I was determined to learn a hex or two from Fred and George to use against him. I didn't think I could despise anyone this much. He was nothing but a spoiled, rich brat!
That night at dinner, and after Harry returned Neville's Remembrall, he informed us of what happened.
"You're joking," said Ron in disbelief. "Seeker? But First years never make the house team. You must be the youngest seeker in-"
"-a century." Harry finished excitedly. "At least, that's what Wood told me."
"That's great, Harry!" I said clapping my hands together. "Brookie Cookie we'll need to make t-shirts!"
"I agree!" she said. "Harry, would you prefer 'Manslaughter Potter' or 'Harry Potter will blow them out the water'" Harry laughed and thought for a second.
"Manslaughter Potter," he decided. Brooke wrote it down on a piece of parchment.
"We'll get Fred and George to help us make t-shirts along with our Neville Longbottom Fan Club," I said.
"You're NOT still going on about that are you?" asked Ron.
"Well, of course," Brooke said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"What's that going to be? 'Longbottom Forgot 'em?'" sniggered Ron. Brooke kicked him from under the table.
"What is your problem?!"
"Your idiocy!" she snapped.
"Anyway," began Harry. "Wood said to keep it a secret for now. I start training next week. I won't have to take Flying anymore either."
"I imagine not, being on the Quidditch team and all," said Ron.
"I can't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face," I cackled. "Oh, Brooke right this down too! We'll get a camera and take a picture of his face and put it on the t-shirts!"
"I'm training you so well," she sniffed.
Fred and George, who just came in the hall, sat down next to us at the table.
"Well done, Harry!" whispered George. "Wood's just told us. We're on the team too as Beaters."
"Our job, is to make sure you don't get bloodied up to bad," said Fred. Harry didn't seem to care. He was on cloud nine at the moment.
"We're going to win that Quidditch Cup this year!" said George. "We haven't won since Charlie left. Slytherin's crushed us every year. You must be really good, though. Wood was practically skipping with he told us."
"Before you two go off, Brooke and I need your help with something," I said. We explained to them our little promotion plan for Harry's Quidditch debut.
"That's brilliant, but only if we get a percentage of the prophets," said Fred.
"Well, we weren't exactly going to sell them. We were just going to give them away," said Brooke.
"Rubbish," said George. "We're business-minded. We won't offer our services for free."
"Besides. We have a camera you could borrow," smiled Fred mischievously. Dang it! They knew how to negotiate.
"Fine," I said. "Since you're so 'business-minded' you won't mind helping us promote them to the older students then?"
"We want 50% of the prophets."
"40% and we'll get Devin and Jeremiah to promote them to the other houses." Fred and George huddled together in whispers for a moment, before turning back to us.
"Deal. We'll set prices at a later date. Nice doing business with you." We shook hands with each of them and they walked down to the end of the table to sit with Lee Jordan.
"I've never seen anyone successfully haggle with Fred and George before," said Ron with an agape mouth.
"You just have to know how to handle them, right, Brookie?"
"Right!" she said happily.
"Great. Malfoy's coming over," said Harry, nodding in their direction.
"Coming to gloat I suppose," said Ron. Malfoy and the girl scouts walked up behind Brooke and I, who were opposite Harry and Ron.
"Having your last meal Potter? When are you getting the train back to the muggles?" Crabbe and Goyle snickered like he'd said the funniest thing in the world.
"About the time you get on the train and back to the hole you crawled out of," I replied.
"I'll bury you in that hole if you don't watch your tone."
"No, you won't. You'll get Tweedledee and Tweedledum, here, to do it for you."
"You've got a smart mouth, don't you?"
"Why thank you! It graduated top of its class, you know." Brook, Harry, and Ron were laughing loudly.
"You're a lot braver now that you've got those two behind you, Malfoy," said Harry.
"I'll take you on anytime on my own," defended Malfoy. "How's tonight? Wizard's duel. Wands only and no contact."
Harry looked confused, but whatever it was, he was in. I'm sure he was itching to shut Malfoy up.
"You DO know what a duel is, don't you, Potter?"
"Of course he does!" snapped Ron. "I'm his second, who's yours?"
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle as if he was sizing them up. Crabbe was shorter than Goyle, but both of them were a good size. It looked like they'd eaten one too many Pumpkin Pasties, though.
"Crabbe," he decided. "Midnight alright? We'll meet you in the trophy room. It's always unlocked." All three of them walked back over to the Slytherin table.
"What's a wizard's duel? And what's a second? I'd like to know if I'm going to be in one," Harry inquired.
"Well," began Brooke, "in a proper wizard's duel you'd fight until one of you is no longer capable. What I mean is, you'd either be stunned, disarmed, or, in the worst case, killed. If you're killed your second takes over for you." Harry looked suddenly worried.
"Don't worry though!" I said. "Neither of you know enough magic to even do any damage."
"The most you'll do is send sparks at each other," said Ron.
"What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" asked Harry.
"Punch him in the face," I said.
"Didn't he say 'no contact'?"
"You really think Malfoy would fight honorably?" said Brooke.
"Definitely not," he answered.
"Then, it's settled, we'll meet you in the common room at 11:30," I said.
"What makes you think you're invited?" scoffed Ron. "I'm his second, not you two."
"We're inviting ourselves!" snapped Brooke. "And besides, we can get a good picture of Malfoy to put on our t-shirts."
"We're not letting you two have all the fun," I said. "I want to see Harry wipe that smirk off Malfoy's face."
"Suit yourselves," said Ron. "Just don't expect me to save your skins." I stood up in a rage and jabbed my finger in his chest from across the table.
"I don't NEED you to save me, you blockhead buffoon! I'm perfectly capable of defending myself!" I stormed off in a huff toward the common room, and Brooke hurried behind me.