Harry was relieved to practice Quidditch yet again with his friends on the team. Afterall, he had gone through such lengths to convince Professor McGonnagal to allow him to continue training for the next Quidditch match, despite the threat of Sirius Black. Harry knew full well that Black was after him, and as usual everyone wanted to protect him.
Despite the growing bad weather, they didn't stop training, keeping their eyes on the win. They were not playing against Slytherin this time, (because of Malfoy's "lethal Hippogriff wound," to which Harry and the others knew he was faking.) Gryffindor will be playing against Hufflepuff instead, and Wood has been extra careful over their strategies after finding out their new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory.
The day before the match, the winds reached a howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy.
"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed as the gale outside pounded the windows.
Harry had no room in his head to worry about anything except the match tomorrow. Oliver Wood kept hurrying up to him between classes and giving
him tips. The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that Harry suddenly realized he was ten minutes late for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and set off at a run with Wood shouting after him, "Diggory's got a very fast swerve, Harry, so you might want to try looping him --"
Harry skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open, and dashed inside.
"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin. I --"
But it wasn't Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher's desk; it was Snape.
"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."
But Harry didn't move.
"Where's Professor Lupin?" he said.
"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile.
"I believe I told you to sit down?"
But Harry stayed where he was.
"What's wrong with him?"
Snape's black eyes glittered.
"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it were.
"Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."
Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.
Harry noticed Nicholas was nearby, he seemed to be as annoyed as everyone else.
"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far --"
"Please, sir, we've done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start --"
"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."
"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.
"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you -- I ,Would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss --"
Harry watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn't covered.
"Werewolves," said Snape.
"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinkypunks --"
"Miss Granger," said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around again. 'All of you! Now!"
With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books. "Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.
Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. "Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between --"
"We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on --"
"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."
"Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf --"
"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."
Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"
The class knew instantly he'd gone too far. But, before Snape could do anything. Nicholas stood up, clearly upset too "I agree with Mr. Weasley sir, with all due respect you are hardly being respectful to us and you expect us to respect you sir."
"Hmmm… Mr. Vanderbosch, I have had high expectations from you considering how intelligent your father was… He would likely agree with me. Snape told him.
"Please do not speak of my father." Nicholas said, now he was getting angry.
"Why? How is he now anyway? I have not heard of him in a very long while." Snape said smugly, as if he knew the man personally.
Nicholas, who was glaring at Snape, looked away. After a small pause he finally answered Snape's question. "He died a few years ago."
Harry then sympathized with how Nicholas felt. He realized that they may not be so different, but still has his suspicions.
Snape's unenthusiastic face seemed surprised, but it was hardly noticeable.
"I see, said Snape. "Then I don't think he would mind."
"Mind what?" Nicholas asked, but was ignored.
Snape then advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath. "Detention, Weasley," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron's. "You and Mr. Vanderbosch."
"And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed." he pointed to both of them.
No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down
the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.
"Very poorly explained... That is incorrect, the kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia... Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three..."
When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.
"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Vanderbosch, Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."
Harry and Hermione left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.
"Snape's never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job," Harry said to Hermione. "Why's he got it in for Lupin? D'you think this is all because of the boggart?"
"I don't know," said Hermione pensively. "But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon..."
Ron caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage. "D'you know what that --" (he called Snape something that made Hermione say "Ron!") "-- is making us do? We've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!"
He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"
Then they noticed Nicholas walking from the room and they caught up to him. "Hey, you didn't need to do that y'know," Ron told him.
Nicholas chuckled, "If I didn't it would eat at my conscience anyway."
"Hey, I'm sorry about your father." Harry said.
"It's alright, just gotta keep moving forward I guess." Nicholas replied. "Was he always like that?"He then asked.
"Yeah, we have had him for two years already." Ron said.
"Yeeeeesh," Nicholas reacted then laughed. "I guess we will have more of him anyway, even beyond Defense against the Dark Arts."
"Ah well…" Harry resigned himself to that idea, even though they all disliked that idea.
"Thank you though, for what you did." Hermione said.
"Nah that was alright." Nicholas said.
"Hey, where is my thank you?" Ron asked, then they all laughed at that remark.
"But, going back to that, what you said earlier." Hermione interjected. "It seemed to me that saying was pretty wise, where did you hear that from?" She asked.
"My father." Nicholas answered. He smiled but, the grief from it is as clear as day.
"You have had a wise father," Harry told him.
"Thanks." Nicholas smiled.
"Alright, now we need to deal with that stupid Homework." Ron complained as they all started walking for the next class.
"Yeah, any idea on where to start?" Nicholas asked.
"Well, considering how the topic was only discussed earlier I guess we can have further readings on it." Hermione said.
Ron groaned, "More work mentally and more work physically, we will be doing our detention soon anyway."
"It's not like any school isn't like this anyway." Nicholas said, and then Hermione and Harry laughed at what he said.
"Oh yeah I will be having more practice later." Harry realized.
"As expected of the 'best seeker in Gryffindor.'" Ron exclaimed excitedly.
"Seeker?" Nicholas asked confused.
"Oh, you don't know about Quidditch?" Ron asked.
Nicholas only shook his head.
"Blimey, man where have you been all this time? You missed out." Ron exclaimed, and then started explaining stuff about the game. Much later, it ended with Nicholas being invited to see the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff match, everyone was looking forward to seeing it.
And with that they continued on to the rest of their classes soon after, it seemed as if they got acquainted over the incident though they all didn't mind. Nicholas was happy to make some new friends anyway, and so did the other three. Although, Harry still had some suspicions about him. To find out more, he will just have to see and find out.
Harry woke extremely early the next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him.
Then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright -- Peeves the Poltergeist had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear. "What did you do that for?" said Harry furiously.
Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard, and zoomed backward out of the room, cackling. Harry fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four.
Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now that he was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls, and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest.
In a few hours he would be out on the Quidditch field, battling through that gale. After much time has passed (probably an hour or so), he gave up any thought of more sleep and got up. He then noticed that Nicholas was awake, and has turned his way and greeted, "Morning Harry." He was still in his pajamas and seemed to be writing stuff down once again on parchment.
"Hey," Harry responded a bit groggily. "Haven't slept?"
"I did... a little." Nicholas replied writting down once again.
"Ron on the other hand seems to be having the time of his life." Nicholas smiled as he pointed at Ron who was sleeping deeply.
Harry chuckled at the sight of his relaxed friend.
"Oh yeah, today is your match right?" Nicholas asked Harry.
"Yeah haha..." Harry chuckled. "I will need to prepare."
"Of course, I will also be heading out anyway... just to get out of this room. Stretch my legs a bit." Nicholas replied.
"Oh ok, cool." Harry said and then they dressed to head out. Harry then picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand, and walked quietly out of the dormitory with Nicholas.
As Harry opened the door, something brushed against his leg. He bent down just in time to pick up Crookshanks.
"You know, I reckon Ron was right about you," Harry told Crookshanks suspiciously.
"That cat has been trying to get in for a while." Nicholas told Harry.
"Probably is still after Scabbers for some odd reason." Harry replied.
"Seems odd for a cat to have a favorite target, considering that there are likely other rodents and vermin around the school. I imagine Ron not being happy about it." Nicholas said.
"He isn't" Harry said, and they chuckled about it.
"Y'know speaking of which... something feels odd about that rat too." Nicholas said.
"Hmm... how so?" Harry asked as he petted Crookshanks a little.
"Its behaving weirdly... As if... Humanlike." Nicholas said.
"Probably afraid of this feline," Harry replied.
"There are plenty of mice around this place -- go and chase them. Go on," he added, nudging Crookshanks down the spiral staircase with his foot. "Leave Scabbers alone."
"I reckon you're right." Nicholas said as he looked at the cat as it ran off. "It even surprised me that the rat is over 12 years old... fairly long life for a rat."
"Being around the Weasley's is very invigorating," Harry replied as he remembered The Burrow and the rest of the Weasleys.
Nicholas chuckled as they walked down to the common room to head out of the portrait hole, "I can only Imagine."
"Stand and fight, you mangy cur!" yelled Sir Cadogan.
"Oh, shut up," Harry yawned, and Nicholas laughed.
When they arrived at the Great Hall, they seperated as Harry was gonna prepare for thr match.
"Hey Good luck out there." Nicholas told Harry.
"Thanks, I'm gonna need it." Harry replied.
Much later, he revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and by the time he'd started on toast, the rest of the team had turned up.
"It's going to be a tough one," said Wood, who wasn't eating anything.
"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."
But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns toward the Quidditch field, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went. just before he entered the locker room, Harry saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, laughing and pointing at him from under an enormous umbrella on their way to the stadium.
"Hey Nicholas, nice to see you mate!" Ron exclaimed having been acquainted well with Nicholas during their first day in detention. He was with Hermione within the bleachers who had also greeted him.
Nicholas greeted them back. "Has it started?" He asked.
"Not yet, it should begin in a few." Ron said as he looked down to see if the teams were already out in the field.
"It feels bad for them to continue the games in this weather." Hermione mentioned.
"I thought the same." Nicholas added.
"Oh c'mon you two, I'm sure it will be alright. Though it sure adds some challenge to them especially." said Ron. "We shouldn't give up on them yet." he added.
"Agreed," Nicholas added, and Hermione nodded.
Oh yeah! This is your first time to a Quidditch match right?" Ron asked Nicholas excitedly.
"Yeah?" Nicholas answered confusedly.
"Then let me get you up to speed, all you need to know about the game." Ron said as he put his arm around Nicholas, clearly excited about the game. Hermione just chuckled alongside them.
Meanwhile with Harry, the team changed into their scarlet robes and waited for Wood's usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn't come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow him.
The wind was so strong that they staggered sideways as they walked out onto the field. If the crowd was cheering, they couldn't hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder.
Rain was splattering over Harry's glasses. How on earth was he going to see the Snitch in this? The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the field, wearing canary-yellow robes. The Captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Diggory smiled at Wood but Wood no, looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded.
Harry saw Madam Hooch's mouth form the words, "Mount Your brooms. He pulled his right foot out of the mud with a squelch and swung it over his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant they were off Harry rose fast, but his Nimbus was swerving slightly with the wind. He held it as steady as he could and turned, squinting into the rain.
Within five minutes Harry was soaked to his skin and frozen, hardly able to see his teammates, let alone the tiny Snitch. He flew backward and forward across the field past blurred red and yellow shapes, with no idea of what was happening in the rest of the game. He couldn't hear the commentary over the wind.
The crowd was hidden beneath a sea of cloaks and battered umbrellas. Twice Harry came very close to being unseated by a Bludger; his vision was so clouded by the rain on his glasses he hadn't seen them coming.
He lost track of time. It was getting harder and harder to hold his broom straight. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. Twice Harry nearly hit another player, without knowing whether it was a teammate or opponent; everyone was now so wet, and the rain so thick, he could hardly tell them apart...
With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle; Harry could just see the outline of Wood through the thick rain, gesturing him to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud.
In the bleachers, "They called a time-out, lets go see them." Hermione said to Ron who in turn beckoned Nicholas to come with them.
"I called for time-out!" Wood roared at his team. "Come on, under here --"
They huddled at the edge of the field under a large umbrella; Harry took off his glasses and wiped them hurriedly on his robes.
"What's the score?"
"We're fifty points up," said Wood, "but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night."
"I've got no chance with these on," Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses.
At that very moment, Hermione, Ron and Nicholas appeared at his shoulder; she was holding
her cloak over her head and was, inexplicably, beaming. Ron and Nicholas on the other hand had their wands out projecting what seemed to be transparent umbrellas.
"Hey you alright mate?" Ron asked Harry.
"So far so good I guess." He replied.
"Not so easy with this weather is it?" Nicholas said as he looked up in the sky.
Harry shook his head.
"I've had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!" Hermione said excitedly.
He handed them to her, and as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, "Impervius!"
"There!" she said, handing them back to Harry.
"They'll repel water!"
"Hmm... what a useful spell." Nicholas smiled.
"Wow, thats amazing Hermione!" Ron exclaimed.
"Uh, no problem haha... thought it was helpful." Hermione said as she chuckled awkwardly, enough for Nicholas to notice that she was blushing even in the thick cold and wet weather.
Wood looked as though he could have kissed her.
"Brilliant!" he called hoarsely after her as she disappeared into the crowd. "Okay, team, let's go for it!"
Before Harry set off again, he was bid goodluck by Ron, Hermione, and Nicholas. To which Harry smiled, and then took off with his broom.
Harry turned back for a moment and saw that they remained down there and didn't go back to the bleachers.
Hermione's spell had done the trick. Harry was still numb with cold, still wetter than he'd ever been in his life, but he could see.
Full of fresh determination, he urged his broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, ducking beneath Diggory, who was streaking in the opposite direction...
There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Harry needed to get the Snitch quickly -
He turned, intending to head back toward the middle of the field, but at that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry saw something that distracted him completely , the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.
Harry's numb hands slipped on the broom handle and his Nimbus dropped a few feet. Shaking his sodden bangs out of his eyes, he squinted back
into the stands. The dog had vanished.
"Harry!" came Wood's anguished yell from the Gryffindor goal posts.
"Harry, behind you!"
Harry looked wildly around. Cedric Diggory was pelting up the field, and a tiny speck of gold was shimmering in the rain-filled air between them
With a jolt of panic, Harry threw himself flat to the broomhandle and zoomed toward the Snitch.
"Come on!" he growled at his Nimbus as the rain whipped his face.
"faster!"
But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Harry had gone suddenly deaf -- what was going on?
And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him, inside him, just as he became aware of something moving on the field below...
Before he'd had time to think, Harry had taken his eyes off the Snitch and looked down At least a hundred dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing beneath him. It was as though freezing water were rising in his chest, cutting at his insides.
And then he heard it again...
Someone was screaming, screaming inside his head... a woman...
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..."
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead --"
Numbing, swirling white mist was filling Harry's brain... What was he doing? Why was he flying? He needed to help her... She was going to die... She was going to be murdered...
He was falling, falling through the icy mist.
"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...
A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and Harry knew no more.
"Lucky the ground was so soft."
"I thought he was dead for sure."
"But he didn't even break his glasses."
Harry could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was that every inch of him was aching as though it had been beaten.
"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."
Scariest... the scariest thing... hooded black figures... cold ... screaming...
Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around his bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.
"Harry!" said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath, the mud.
"How're you feeling?"
It was as though Harry's memory was on fast forward. The lightning -- the Grim -- the Snitch -- and the dementors...
"What happened?" he said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.
"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been -- what -- fifty feet?"
"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.
Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.
"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?"
No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into Harry like a stone.
"We didn't -- lose?"
"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square... even Wood admits it."
"Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there.
"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."
Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.
"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."
"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.
"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points"
"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin --."
"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.
"But if they beat Ravenclaw..."
"No Way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff..."
"It all depends on the points -- a margin of a hundred either way."
Harry lay there, not saying a word. They had lost... for the first time ever, he had lost a Quidditch match.
Then he noticed, on a bed opposite of him lay an unconscious Nicholas Vanderbosch. He too looked soaked and incredibly pale.
"What happened to him?" Harry asked.
"We didn't notice him much," Fred admitted.
"Everything happened so fast," added George.
Madam Pomfrey then came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.
"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."
The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron and Hermione moved nearer to
Harry's bed.
"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as You fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then we noticed the dementors, they were chasing Nicholas too."
"When we were watching, they creeped up behind us... and he told us to run for it... It was so scary seeing hundreds of them and he drew them away from us. He didn't just run... he fought back. You could see it. Lightning, fire, and molten rock coming out of his hands, and some out of his wand. I have never seen that before." Ron said as he looked from Harry to the unconcious Nicholas.
"He managed to subdue a lot of them, but they were too many." Hermione added.
"Yeah and you can see the damage in the field, large craters and frozen Dementors solid, some are even trapped in what looked like to be molten rock." Ron explained clearly amazed and shooked of what happened.
"It seemed like they sucked the life out of him. Then he fell... unconcious." said Hermione.
"Dumbledore then whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away... He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him --"
"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," said Ron.
"And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were --" His voice faded, but Harry hardly noticed. He was thinking about what
the dementors had done to him and Nicholas... about the screaming voice.
"Will he be alright?" Harry asked.
"Madam Pomfrey said he will be when Dumbledore asked the same question about both of you." Hermione replied.
"I am glad you both are." Ron said.
"Good thing nobody died." Harry said relaxed, then he looked up and saw Ron and Hermione lookin, at him so anxiously that he quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say.
"Did someone get my Nimbus?"
Ron and Hermione looked quickly at each other.
"Er --"
"What?" said Harry, looking from one to the other.
"Well... when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.
"And?"
"And it hit -- it hit -- oh, Harry -- it hit the Whomping Willow."
Harry's insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.
"And?" he said, dreading the answer.
"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It -- it doesn't like being hit."
"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around, said Hermione in a very small voice.
Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the
only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.