Chapter 8: Rules? What rules?
"A break-in?" said Shal. "At Gringotts Bank?"
"Yes," said Harry, "and it happened on my Birthday! It might even have happened while me and Hagrid were there!"
Harry was very flustered by this new turn of events. Hermione, however, was more calm and controlled.
"Harry, calm down," she said. "They were probably just after some galleons or something."
"That's the thing!" he replied worriedly. "They weren't after money. They broke into vault 713, the very vault me and Hagrid visited earlier that day!"
There must have been something very valuable in that vault, Shal thought. Almost just as he thought this…
"There must have been something real important in there!" said Ron.
"Maybe," said Harry, "but I find that hard to believe. All that was in there was this grubby little bag, and Hagrid took it with him when we left."
"Did you see what was in the bag, Harry?" said Shal after much silence.
"No. Hagrid put the whole thing, bag and all, into his front pocket. Then he told me not to tell anyone about what happened."
"Gee, Harry," said Shal. "I've never seen anybody keep secrets as well as you do."
Ron chuckled to himself. Harry shot Shal a dirty look.
"I wonder what Hagrid did with that package?" said Hermione.
"Probably still has it with him," Ron replied.
Then, Harry remembered something else. "Do you think Hagrid is being entirely honest with us?" he wondered.
"Why?" Shal asked, suspicious.
"Well, whenever I brought up Snape in the conversation, he seemed all too eager to dismiss my problems and change the subject."
"Maybe you're right," Shal ruminated, "and maybe he is just trying to protect you. There very well may be things about Severus Snape that you would be better off not knowing about."
Harry thought for a moment, the replied, "I guess you're probably right."
Suddenly, Ron's stomach growled audibly, and many students began rushing passed them into the great hall. In the flurry of questions, they all lost track of the time. The quartet began to walk off to dinner, but Hermione stopped. The two boys went off without noticing, but Shal saw her pause.
"Shal," she said, "about earlier today."
He remembered. "What about it?"
"Could we keep… that… a secret between the two of us? I'm not sure that Harry and Ron would-."
"Sure," Shal interrupted. "I understand."
She smiled. "Thanks."
One thing that Shal wished he had with him was his music. He had amassed a very large collection of CDs and longed to listen to them. However, Dumbledore had mentioned at one point in the year that any "muggle-made" electronic devices would malfunction and (most likely) break if brought on Hogwarts property. Shal missed his music so much. That missing had grown too intense one day. He decided to ask Ron about the matter. Shal went downstairs from the dormitories to the common room. He was surprised to see a large crowd in front of a small notice on the bulletin board. There were many unhappy faces at the sight of this note. It stated that on Thursday of that week, they were to start flying lessons…with the Slytherins.
"Typical," he heard Harry say. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."
Flying? On a Broomstick? Shal found that kind of hard to believe. When he read about humans, brooms were just used for cleaning floors, not for flying.
He decided to ask Ron. "How, exactly, do you use a broomstick to fly?"
Ron looked down at him with a look of both surprise and amusement. "You're joking, aren't you?" When he saw that Shal wasn't, he continued. "You put the broom between your legs and you sit on it. Then you kick off the ground and fly."
"And this works with any old broom or mop or whatever?"
"Uh, no…" Ron said, perplexed at Shal's questions. "It has to be a magic broom."
The realization hit Shal like a brick to the head. "Oh! I'm so stupid! Why didn't I think of magic? I guess I'm just used to flying under my own power."
Then Shal remembered the reason he came downstairs. "Sorry, I had an ADD moment. I came down here to ask you if there was some sort of magical…device that played music."
"You mean like an instrument, like a piano or something?"
"No," Shal replied, slightly frustrated. "In the 'muggle-world,' there are these things called CDs. They store music on them. They're kind of like those old phonographs that you see in old movies."
Ron was puzzled, but at the mention of phonograph, the analogy made sense. "Ah, I get it. Phonographs are old technology. Nowadays, there are these magical devices that can play any song you want on them, and they can choose new songs for you based on what you like."
Like music TiVo, Shal thought to himself. "Where might I be able to get one of these…things?"
"They're called MusicPhones." (I know it's a lame name, but I couldn't come up with anything else.) "They sell them at Diagon Alley, among other places."
Shal made a point to tell his parents to pick up one (or whatever) for him. Finally, his music jones will be fed.
Thursday came suddenly (there was an unexpected amount of homework over the past few days). While they were enjoying breakfast (Shal discovered a passion for scrambled eggs and bacon) the mail arrived. Like usual, the mail arrived by owl. Each owl flew down and dropped its cargo in front of its intended recipient, which meant that it often times landed in his or her breakfast. Unusually, Shal received a letter. This was the first one he got since he came to Hogwarts. When the letter landed in front of him, a pang of guilt punched him in the gut, as he remembered that he promised to write every week. He tore open his letter, which had a fair amount of egg and bacon on it. He noticed that it was typed (his parents probably used magic to use the keyboard). It read:
Dear Shal,
I hope that things are going well for you at school. Your father and I are very proud of you. Things are great over here. Your sister Miir has been very much anxious to grow up and follow in your footsteps. She practices hunting her brothers to no end, much to their chagrin. I let your brothers use your computer and CDs, but I make sure that they leave them exactly as when the found them. I've noticed that you haven't written yet, which is to be expected. You probably have too much homework. I'm curious to hear what you have to say about the goings on at Hogwarts. How are your classes? Have you made any friends? When you have time, please write back.
With love,
Mom
Shal smiled to himself as he read the letter. He put it with his school books so he would remember. Looking down the table, he saw that Neville Longbottom had also received a parcel. He opened it and revealed a fist-sized glass ball filled with smoke.
"It's a Remembrall!" he exclaimed. "Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red…oh…" The orb turned blood red in his hands, and he frowned. He forgot something. Shal snickered to himself. He then spied Draco Malfoy and his fatties walking mischievously toward Neville, and Shal could tell that he planned on picking on Neville. Though he was sheepish and weird, Neville didn't deserve any flack from Malfoy and his thugs. Just before Malfoy walked passed, Shal stuck his tail out and tripped him. Malfoy hit the floor with a humiliating thud, and Shal quickly withdrew his tail and pretended nothing had happened. Ron and Harry laughed among themselves, and Hermione scowled at the young dragon. Draco got up, brushed himself off, and turned to Shal.
"You've got some nerve to mess with me, dragon," Malfoy said angrily. His thugs flanked him and stared menacingly.
Shal didn't turn around. "You've got some nerve to accuse me of messing with you, dragon wannabe!" Heh, Draco, Shal thought to himself.
Malfoy grimaced at the insult, but just before he acted on his feelings, Professor McGonagall walked passed and saw the three of them standing near the Gryffindor table.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing," said Malfoy, trying to avoid trouble. "Just saying hello to my best buddy Shal here."
Malfoy and his cronies walked off. Shal stuck his tongue out at them as they left.
That afternoon, the students of Gryffindor house proceeded out to the grounds outside. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in sight, and the breeze blew lightly. Shal just wanted to leap up in the air and fly for hours on end, but he knew he wasn't allowed. Stupid humans, he thought to himself, with all their rules and whatnot. They marched over to the Slytherins, who had arrived early. There were bunches of old, ratty broomsticks lying on the ground in front of them. Madame Hooch, their instructor, appeared and directed the students to where they were to begin. She had a short crop of grey hair, a commanding presence about her, and bright yellow eyes. They each approached one and stood next to it, like the Slytherins were already doing. The instructor then addressed the whole group.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," she called to the students, who did so, "and say 'Up!'"
The students all proceeded to do the same. Harry's broom flew swiftly up into his waiting hand. However, the rest of the students (including Shal) had more difficulty. Hermione's just rolled around a little, and Neville's didn't even move. Shal had to yell loudly at the top of his lungs to get his broom into his hand, but, after much forceful coaxing, it complied.
Now, Shal thought, for the tricky part. Madame Hooch instructed them all to mount their brooms, and came to each one to adjust their grip. When she came to Shal, the look on her face said that she didn't know what to do.
"Don't worry," said Shal. "I'll figure it out." And with that, Shal did his best to stand up on his hind legs, using his tail and his wings for balance. He was used to balancing on his hind legs, but he never did it with a broomstick in his hands. After much wobbling and falling over, Shal resolved his issue by using the broom like a walking stick.
"Now," said Madame Hooch, "When I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle…three…two–."
Neville shot up into the air. Apparently, he got nervous and jumped the gun. He flew higher and higher up away from the earth he missed so much. He quavered and shook with pure fear all over his face. Suddenly, he lost his balance, and plummeted like a stone. Shal dove into the air and tried to catch him, but he missed.
Neville hit the ground with a heart-stopping thud. There was an audible crack as he landed, and he just sat there in a pile on the grass. Madame Hooch rushed over and picked him up. He had broken his wrist, and his nose was bleeding. Gingerly, she took him off the field. As she left, she threatened to expel anyone who left the ground.
As soon as the pair had left, Malfoy seized the opportunity. He laughed and pointed at poor Neville.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
All the other Slytherins joined him and laughed. The Gryffindors, however, had become a mixture of indignant and outright furious at those bullies. Shal, Ron, and Harry were some of the more angry ones.
"Shut up!" they all shouted, almost at once.
"What're you going to do about it?" Malfoy jeered. "Are you sticking up for that fat cry baby?"
He then spotted a glimmer in the grass. It was Neville's Remembrall. He hastily snatched it up and waved it at the trio, mocking them.
"Look what I found!"
"Give it here," Harry said, struggling to remain calm.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for that fat lump to find – how about up a tree?"
Shal ran at Malfoy, in an attempt to get the Remembrall from him, but he climbed on his broom and was in the air before Shal could reach him. He growled up at the blond-haired bandit, but he refused to leave the ground, because he knew he didn't want to get expelled.
Harry, on the other hand, was not so afraid. Just before he left the ground, Hermione ran at him. "No! Don't do it! Madame Hooch said not to move. You'll get us all in trouble."
But Harry didn't care. He left the ground (with surprising ease, as Shal noticed) and flew up to Malfoy's height, which was about level with the trees. The girls were all distraught. Ron was cheering him on. Shal was thoroughly frustrated. Why doesn't he care about the rules? This is so not fair! Harry charged at Malfoy and almost clipped him in the head. Then, to the shock of all on the ground, Malfoy chucked the glass orb high into the air and flew for the earth. Harry dove downward and tried to race the Remembrall to the ground. With just a foot to spare, he snatched the plummeting orb and leveled off, tumbling to the ground.
Everyone was clapping and cheering. Shal was impressed at the skill of such a beginner. The cheering and applause was cut short when…
"HARRY POTTER!!!!!"
Everyone whirled about and saw Professor McGonagall running up to the students, her face a mask of both shock and rage.
She approached Harry, and he got to his feet. The professor was so upset that she was stammering, and Harry kept being interrupted by her. They were actually kind of funny to watch. She then led him off the field and back into the school.
They didn't see Harry again until dinnertime. He had some rather surprising news.
"McGonagall took me inside, where we met up with this fifth year named Oliver Wood." Ron's face lit up at the mention of Wood. "She told Wood that I was to start training as Gryffindor's Seeker."
"Seeker?!" Ron exclaimed, in utter amazement. "First years never get picked. You must be the youngest house player in about–."
"– a century," finished Harry as he continued to eat. "Wood told me."
Shal couldn't take it. Anger clouded his thoughts, and he lashed out. "This is not fair! YOU were the one who broke the rules! You directly disobeyed the teacher's orders, and you get REWARDED?!? What the heck is so special about YOU?!"
The other three stared at him, surprised at his sudden outburst. Shal was still fuming when Fred and George Weasley showed up and quietly congratulated Harry on his new position on the team. Hermione then turned to Shal.
"I think it would be best if we kept quiet about this issue, so that people don't get jealous."
Shal just wanted to scream, but he saw the wisdom in her words, and he just sat there sulkily. It was then that Malfoy and his pair of bumbling brutes approached, and the mood became sour.
"Enjoying your last meal, Potter?" he said, with an appropriate amount of swagger and malice. "When's the train gonna take you back to the Muggles?"
"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," Harry replied with confidence. However, Malfoy was here on a much more… diplomatic mission.
"Tonight, I'll take you on in a Wizard's duel. Wands only: no contact. What, have you never heard of a Wizard's duel before?"
"Of course he has," said Ron, covering for his friend. "I'm his second. Who's you're?"
After a little deliberation, Malfoy chose Crabbe as his second.
"We duel at midnight, in the trophy room."
He then left the table. Harry quickly turned to Ron, confused and worried.
Ron then explained that in a wizard's duel, the two participants cast spells at each other until their opposition is dead, or if he surrenders. A second is there to take over if the first wizard dies.
"But only proper wizards die in duels," he continued. "You and Malfoy only know enough magic to send sparks at each other. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."
Shal looked at the two of them. It appeared to him that rule-breaking was not a problem here. One could get away with it. He grinned to himself. I can do whatever I want, he thought. These humans can do nothing to stop me. Maybe it would be all right if he joined them, just to watch. It would be an educational experience, after all.
It was then that Hermione spoke up. "I sure hope the two of you aren't going to go through with this. It's really very selfish of you."
They ignored her. There was going to be a duel happening at Hogwarts, and there was nothing she could do about it.
