Hello world! Here is chapter 9 of my story. Join Harold and his friends (and enemies) as they experience their first flying lesson, and also do quite a bit of nighttime wandering. Disclaimers: I do not own any flying broomsticks, the You-Forgot-Reminder-Ball, any position on the Quippish teams, the Wizard's Fight, Heidi's quick spellwork, or the three-headed animal (I'll let you find out for yourself what animal it is). Enjoy reading!
Chapter 9: Flying Lessons and Midnight Excursions
Harold had never believed that he would hate someone more than he hated Spudley, but that was before he met Drake Snalfoy. But they didn't have to see him too often, as the only class they shared with the Hisserins was Potions. At least, it was until the first years saw a flyer pinned up on the Diffindor notice board. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday, and the Diffindors would be learning with the Hisserins.
"Figures," muttered Harold when he saw the sign. "This is what I've been hoping for. To crash my broomstick in front of Snalfoy." He had been looking forward to flying a broomstick more than anything else.
"You won't crash," said Don. "At least, I don't think you will. Anyway, I've heard Snalfoy going on about how he's such an amazing flyer, but I'll bet he's lying for the ladies."
"Don, we're only eleven!" said Harold uncomfortably.
"Yes, I know," said Don loftily. "But he's got the right idea, getting a head start like that…."
Snalfoy did boast about his flying skills a lot. He told stories to anyone who would listen, and these stories usually ended with him narrowly escaping Shmuggles in airplanes. He wasn't the only one; Sean Shimmigan declared that he had spent nearly his whole life circling skyscrapers on his broomstick, and even Don said that he had almost hit a kid's kite while flying Charles's old broom. Quippish was a constant subject to talk about for wizarding families. Don got into a big argument with Ian Thompson, another Diffindor first year, about basketball. Don couldn't see what was so great about a sport that had only one ball and where no one was allowed to fly. Harold even saw him poking Ian's Boston Celtics basketball poster with his wand, trying to make the players move.
Nelson had never rode a broomstick in his life, probably because his grandmother had never let him near one. He was extremely accident-prone, and Harold guessed that being in the air wouldn't help him one bit.
Heidi Grace was almost as nervous about flying as Nelson was. Riding a broomstick was not something you could learn from a book - not that Heidi didn't try. She read and re-read a book called Quippish Through the Ages, and would read tips out loud to everyone within ten feet of her. Nelson hung onto every word she said, but everyone else was extremely relieved when her lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.
Harold looked up, more to watch the owls in general than to watch for one approaching him. He had not received any letters since Hagger's invitation to tea. Snalfoy, however, got daily packages delivered to him by his eagle owl, which brought sweets from his parents at home.
A barn owl landed in front of Nelson and dropped a small box in his cereal bowl. He opened it excitedly and held up a small glass ball that was filled with white smoke.
"It's a You-Forgot-Reminder-Ball!" he exclaimed. "Granny knows how many things I forget every day - look, see the smoke inside? When it turns red - oh," he said, as the smoke suddenly turned crimson, "you've forgotten something."
Nelson's face was screwed up in concentration as he tried to remember what he'd forgotten when Drake Snalfoy, who was passing by, seized the You-Forgot-Reminder-Ball from his hands.
Harold and Don jumped out of their seats, hoping for a chance to beat him up, but Professor McGummable, who could sense trouble quicker than any teacher Harold had ever known, was there in a second.
"What's going on here?"
"Snalfoy stole my You-Forgot-Reminder-Ball!" cried Nelson.
Snalfoy glared at him, and reluctantly handed over the glass ball. "I just wanted to see," he muttered, and traipsed back to the Hisserin table.
At three-thirty that afternoon, the Diffindor first years made their way onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. The day was nice and sunny, with a slight breeze rippling the grass. Soon they saw the smooth, flat field in which they'd be practicing. The Hisserins were already there, along with about twenty brooms laying in two rows on the ground. Harold remembered Ed and Gordy complaining about the school brooms, saying that some bounced up and down if you flew too high, and others always veered slightly to the right.
Their teacher, Madam Hoops, came striding across the lawn and stopped in front of the two rows of brooms. She had gray spiky hair and hawk-like blue eyes.
"Well, don't just stand there gossiping!" she barked. "Everyone pick a broom and stand at its left side."
Harold got into position and looked down at his broom. It was old and had twigs sticking out everywhere.
"Now, stick your right hand over your broom, and say, 'Up!'"
"UP!" bellowed the class.
Harold's jumped into his hand at once, but not many people's brooms seemed to be cooperating. Heidi's broom rolled over on the ground, and Harold could hear frustration in her voice as she snapped, "UP! UP!" Nelson's broom hadn't moved at all, and Harold guessed that brooms could sense when you were afraid. Nelson's quiet "up" clearly said that he wanted to stay on the ground.
Madam Hoops then walked up and down the rows, showing them how to mount their brooms and correcting their grips. Harold and Don sniggered when they heard her tell Snalfoy that he'd been doing it wrong for years.
"Now when I blow my whistle," called Madam Hoops, "kick off from the ground. Rise up a few feet, keeping your brooms steady, and then lean forward slightly to touch back down. That's all. No crazy stunts yet, you understand? On my whistle, three, two -"
"WAA!" cried Nelson. He had accidentally kicked the ground out of nervousness, and his broom was rising up at a fast pace.
"Hey, you!" yelled Madam Hoops. "Come back! I SAID NO CRAZY STUNTS!"
Nelson was rising higher and higher. Ten feet - twenty feet - Harold could just make out his scared white face as he slipped sideways off his broom and plummeted towards the ground. With a loud THUMP and a crack, Nelson landed on the grass. Harold looked up and saw his broom doing lazy loops in the air, heading for the Big Scary Forest.
"You've broken your wrist," muttered Madam Hoops, bending over Nelson, her face white. "Come on, get up, I'll take you to the hospital wing." She helped him up and turned to the rest of the class. "If I see one broom in the air when I get back, that person will be kicked out of Pigzits before you can say 'Quippish!'" And with that, she put her arm around Nelson and they hobbled out of sight.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Snalfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his chubby face?"
The other Hisserins joined in.
"Shut your trap, Snalfoy," snapped Penelope McGill.
"Aw, sticking up for Wrongbottom?" mocked Sandy Starkinson. "Never knew you like fat crybabies, Penelope."
"Well, you learn something new every day," said Don. Penelope shot him a look.
"Hey, check this out!" cried Snalfoy, darting forward and picking something up off the lawn. "It's that weird glass thing his granny sent him."
The You-Forgot-Reminder-Ball glistened in the sunlight.
"Give it back, Snalfoy," said Harold quietly. Everyone shut up at once to watch. Snalfoy grinned.
"I think I'll drop it off somewhere for Wrongbottom to find. How about - oh, I don't know - on the roof?"
"Give it back!" yelled Harold, but Snalfoy had already mounted his broomstick. A moment later he was in the air. He wasn't lying; he could fly well. "Come and get it, Plodder! If you want to be a grease spot on the grass!"
Harold patience snapped. He put his right hand over his broom and roared, "UP!" The broom flew into his hand.
"No!" cried Heidi Grace. "You heard what Madam Hoops said, didn't you? Do you want to be thrown out? Well? Do you? Do you?"
"SHUT UP!" bellowed Harold, and in one swift movement mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground. Up and up he soared, and as he left the ground so did his fear; this was awesome. He pulled back on the handle to fly even higher. The girls below screamed with admiration and Don whooped with joy.
"Oh my God, look at him go!"
"He's so hot!"
"When you get back down, can you sign my schoolbag?"
"Wow, Harold!" yelled Don's voice. "You're getting lots of points! How do you do that?"
Harold grinned and waved a hand. There were squeals and sighs from the girls and laughter from the boys. He looked at Snalfoy, and was delighted to see he was stunned.
"Give it back, Snail-foy, or I'll knock you out of the air!" Harold roared, and the boys laughed again.
"Don't call me that!" snapped Snalfoy angrily. "And I'd like to see you try!"
"Okay then," said Harold, somehow knowing what to do. He leaned forward on his broom, gripping it tightly in his hands, and it shot towards Snalfoy like a rocket. Snalfoy barely got out of the way in time. Harold turned back around to face him again, the whoops and cheers of the other first years acting as a stimulant.
"You don't have your fat bodyguards up here, Snail-foy!" he taunted. Snalfoy's face whitened.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he screamed, and threw the You-Forgot-Reminder-Ball as hard as he could before pelting towards the ground.
As if in slow motion, the glass ball arched up in the air, and then began to fall. Harold flattened himself out on his broom and began to dive - the wind was whistling in his ears, rippling his hair - the crowd was screaming below - he stretched out a hand and caught the ball a foot above the ground, and had just enough time to level out before he stopped the broomstick and jumped off.
"HAROLD PLODDER!"
His heart plummeted faster than his dive. He looked up and saw Professor McGummable running towards him, shaking her head.
"Never - in my entire career at Pigzits -"
She seemed speechless with shock, and her eyes were flashing furiously behind her glasses.
"How dare you - could've cracked your head open - AAARG!"
She had tripped over her feet and fell flat on her stomach. The Diffindor girls hurried forward and helped her back up.
"Thank you, thank you," she gasped, brushing the dirt off of her robes. Then she strode towards Harold.
"Professor, please, it wasn't his fault -"
"Yes it was," growled Heidi.
"But Snalfoy took -"
"Be quiet, McGill, Weezy. Plodder, you come with me. Now."
Harold followed Professor McGummable back across the lawn, feeling as though he were falling into a pit of depression. He was going to be expelled, he knew it. He would be packing his suitcase in twenty minutes. He hadn't even lasted two weeks! He had to jog to keep up with Professor McGummable, who wasn't even looking at him. Harold felt a lump in his throat as he imagined what the Durskeys would say when he arrived on their doorstep.
They went up the front steps, up the marble staircase, and still no means of communication passed between them. Professor McGummable threw open doors so hard they banged against the wall. Maybe she was taking him to Dunderbore. Maybe, if Dunderbore was in a good mood, Harold would be able to stay and help Hagger with the gamekeeper job. He thought of watching Don and the others become wizards while he followed Hagger around, carrying his giant overcoat.
Finally, Professor McGummable stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and peeked in.
"Professor Fitflick? Can I see Woody for a minute?"
Woody? thought Harold, bewildered. Was she talking about the cowboy doll that was in the Toy Story movies? What did that have to do with him?
But Woody turned out to be a person, a buff fifth year. He came out of the classroom looking confused.
"Come with me, you two," said Professor McGummable, and they followed, Woody staring at Harold. She led them into a classroom that was empty except for Sneeze, who was busy writing swear words on the chalkboard with the ketchup's squirt bottle.
"Get out, Sneeze!" bellowed Professor McGummable. Sneeze glared at her, squirted the last of the ketchup in the air, dropped the bottle, and flew through the wall, cackling. She, Harold, and Woody all ducked to avoid the stream of falling condiment. When it had all splattered to the floor, Professor McGummable motioned for them to sit down.
"Harold, this is Olive Woody - he's captain of the Diffindor Quippish team. Woody - I've found you a Looker!"
"Eww!" cried Harold. "I don't want to be a looker!"
"No, no, no," said Woody, whose expression had gone from confusion to delight. "It's a position on the Quippish team. Are you serious, Professor?"
"Totally," said Professor McGummable. "Harold's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Plodder?"
"Yes," said Harold. He had no idea what was happening, but he had a feeling that they weren't expelling him.
"He caught a You-Forgot-Reminder-Ball in his hand in a fifty foot dive. Didn't even hurt himself. Charles Weezy couldn't have done it." said Professor McGummable.
Woody was now looking as though Christmas had come early.
"Have you ever seen a Quippish match, Plodder?" he asked, scrutinizing Harold. "You've got just the right body to be a Looker, too."
Harold was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.
"We'll have to get him a good broom too, Professor," said Woody, now pacing in front of Harold. "How 'bout a Cumulonimbus Two-Thousand?"
"I'll talk to Dunderbore about it. We'll see if we can bend the first year rule. We do need a better team than the one last year - we got crushed by the Hisserin team, I couldn't look Samuel Snake in the face for months…"
Professor McGummable peered sternly at Harold through her glasses.
"I'd better hear that you're training hard, Plodder, or I might change my mind about punishing you, you understand?"
"Oh - yes, Professor!" said Harold. Then she suddenly smiled at him.
"You dad was an amazing Quippish player, too, you know. He'll be proud of you."
"You're kidding!" gasped Don at dinner that night. Harold had just told him what had happened after Professor McGummable had taken him from the flying lesson.
"Nope, not kidding," said Harold with a huge grin on his face.
"You're gonna be a Looker!" cried Don excitedly. "You must be the youngest Looker in - in -"
"A century," Harold said. "Professor McGummable told me." He spooned spaghetti into his mouth during Don's stunned silence.
"I start to train next week," he mumbled around his food. "Don't tell anyone. Woody wants to keep it a secret."
Ed and Gordy hurried into the Great Dining Room, spotted Harold, and took the available seats across from him.
"Nice one!" whispered Ed. "Gordy and I are on the team too - we're Pounders."
"You must be good, too," said Gordy. "Woody was skipping like a girl when he told us. He never does that."
"Anyway, we've got to go," said Ed. "Steve Gordon thinks he found another secret passageway out of the school, but we need to see it for ourselves. See ya!"
Almost as soon as they left, three more people turned up: Snalfoy, Krabby, and Boyle.
"Aww, is this your last meal, Plodder?" sneered Snalfoy. "When are you getting back on the subway?"
"So you suddenly have the guts to insult me now that you're on the ground?" said Harold coldly. "Or is it because Fatso and Chubs are with you?" Krabby and Boyle cracked their knuckles and glared at him, but they couldn't do anything else in case the teachers saw.
"I can beat you up all by myself anytime," growled Snalfoy. "Let's go tonight. Wizard's Fight. Wands only - no punching, kicking, pinching -" he shuddered, obviously remembering the subway ride, "- or anything of that nature. Haven't you ever heard of a Wizard's Fight before?"
"Of course he has!" snapped Don. "I'm his second - which one of those buffoons is yours?"
Snalfoy stared at Krabby and Boyle, clearly sizing them up. "Krabby," he said finally. "Meet us in the award room at midnight; they never lock it." And they stalked back to the Hisserin table.
"Um, what's a Wizard's Fight?" asked Harold. "And what does 'you're my second' mean?"
"A second takes over if the Fighter dies," said Don casually.
"What?" said Harold. "I'm going to die?"
"I really doubt it," said Don. "The most you and Snalfoy will be able to do is send sparks flying at each other. That won't kill you."
"But what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" asked Harold nervously.
"Throw it away and use your pinching skills," Don suggested. "They were pretty awesome on the train, did you see how much you scared Snalfoy?"
"Excuse me!" It was Heidi.
"Can't anyone have a simple conversation without being interrupted?" snapped Don in outrage. Heidi ignored him and looked at Harold.
"I couldn't help listening in to what you and Snalfoy are planning -"
"Liar," muttered Don.
"- but it seems to me that you could get into a lot of trouble if you're caught! You're lucky that you didn't get punished for flying that broomstick! How can you even think of breaking more rules? You'll lose lots of points from Diffindor!"
"This is none of your bees guts, Heidi," said Harold.
"Now go away," growled Don.
Harold lay in bed that night, listening to Ian and Sean's snores (Nelson wasn't back from the hospital wing). Heidi's voice was repeating her warnings in his head over and over. He knew she was right, that he shouldn't be breaking rules, but Snalfoy's face was also sneering at him in his mind, and he knew he had to take the chance; this was his opportunity to beat him face-to-face.
"It's eleven-thirty," murmured Don. "We should get going."
They pulled on their bathrobes (Harold's green and Don's red) and tiptoed down the stairs into the living room. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the armchair nearest to them, "So you're actually going to do this, Harold?"
A lamp flicked on. It was Heidi Grace, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.
"You!" hissed Don furiously. "Keep your nose out of our business and go to bed!"
"I will not," snapped Heidi. "Not when you're about to lose points from Diffindor! I almost told your brother, Henry. He would've put a stop to this!"
Harold was shocked that anyone could be so nosy.
"Ignore her," he muttered to Don, pushing him through the portrait hole. But Heidi wasn't about to give up so easily. She followed them, hissing continuously like a pissed-off cat.
"Don't you care about Diffindor at all? Oh, whoops, that's a stupid question, of course you don't, you only care about yourselves, isn't that right? If you get caught you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGummable for knowing about Switching Spells!"
"Well, you can earn us more, then," said Don. "It doesn't seem like a problem for you. Now go away."
"Fine," snapped Heidi, glaring at them, "but when you're on the subway home tomorrow, you just remember what I said, you idiots!"
She turned around to go back through the portrait, but found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Cat had gone for a walk and Heidi was locked out of Diffindor Tower.
"Hey! Come back!" wailed Heidi. She kicked the portrait and swore loudly, holding her foot. "Now what am I supposed to do?"
"Sulk," said Don. "Meanwhile, we have an appointment to keep!"
He and Harold walked away from Heidi. They hadn't even reached the end of the hallway when she caught up with them. "I'm coming with you."
"Ew! No you're not!" cried Don.
"I'll tell you what I'm not doing," growled Heidi. "Sitting outside the portrait all night waiting for the Fat Cat. The ground is hard and cold!"
"Aww. Well, sorry your butt's going to freeze to death if it has to sit on a hardwood floor for once," snapped Don.
"Shut up, both of you, I can hear something!" hissed Harold. When they quieted, he could clearly hear moans coming from up ahead.
"Hello?" said Don. They crept forward, and saw a dark shape curled up on the floor. It was Nelson.
"Harold! Don! Oh, thank God you've found me!" he cried. "I forgot the password to Diffindor Tower, so I had to wait out here for hours."
"Shush, Nelson," said Harold. "The password's 'catnip', but the Fat Cat's gone off somewhere, so you'll have to wait a little longer. How's your arm?"
"Fine," sniffed Nelson. "Madam Plumfry healed it in about a minute."
"Great," said Don. "So, we'll see you later, Nelson, we've got to be somewhere -"
"No! Don't leave me here!" he wailed. "I can't stand being here all alone, the Bleeding Baron tortured me twice already, please don't leave!"
Don looked at his watch and then glared at him and Heidi. "If either of you people gets us caught, I won't rest until I figure out how to pinch like Harold does, and then I'll pinch you until you're black and blue!"
"Or you can just let me do it," supplied Harold. "C'mon, let's go, we've wasted enough time already."
They raced through the hallways as quietly as possible. Harold's heart thumped every time they turned a corner, expecting to see Filth or Mrs. Morris, but they were lucky. Finally they reached the award room.
Snalfoy and Krabby weren't there yet. Harold looked around in awe. Ribbons, trophies, plaques, cups, plates, and statues rested on shelves all over the room. They pressed themselves against the wall, keeping their eyes on the doorways on either side of the room. Harold took out his wand.
"He's late," muttered Don. "Maybe he wet his pants on the way and went back to his living room." Harold was about to laugh when he heard a voice from the next room - and it wasn't Snalfoy.
"Keep sniffing, snookums, they could be hiding anywhere." It was Filth talking to Mrs. Morris. Harold was terrified.
"Come on!" he mouthed to the others. They tiptoed out of the other entrance to the room just as Filth entered. Harold thought that they might get away when suddenly Nelson cried "WAA!" and started to run. He smashed into Don, who toppled over and hit a suit of armor, which hit another one, and another one, and so on. The clanging and crashing was enough to wake up the whole castle and Hagger out in his hut.
"RUN!" roared Harold, and they sprinted down the hallway as fast as they could. Harold didn't dare try to look back for Filth in case it made him slow down. They raced around corners, ripped through hanging tapestries, thundered up and down staircases, until they found themselves next to the Charms classroom, which was miles away from the awards room. Harold stopped, his chest heaving, and leaned against the wall, the others gasping next to him.
"I - told - you - so," choked Heidi, clutching a stitch in her side. "I - told - you - so!"
"Which way is Diffindor Tower?" said Don. "We have to get back there fast!"
"Snalfoy tricked you, don't you get it yet?" hissed Heidi. "All he wanted was to get you chucked out, and he probably tattled to Filth that someone was going to be in the awards room tonight!"
Harold knew she was right. "Let's go," he said. They hadn't even walked ten steps when they encountered another problem. A classroom door opened in front of them and something shot out. It was Sneeze. When he saw the four of them, he started to laugh.
"Sneeze, shh! We'll get throw out!" whispered Harold.
"Aww, did you four have nightmares?" mocked Sneeze. "Are you looking for a teacher you can go crying to? You shouldn't be walking around this late, widdle first years. You might get in trouble…"
"Please, Sneeze, don't tell on us, please!"
"Should call Filth, it's for your own good, you know, just because you had scary nightmares doesn't give you the right to -"
"WE DIDN'T HAVE NIGHTMARES!" roared Don, swiping at Sneeze. That was a big mistake.
"STUDENTS WANDERING AROUND THE SCHOOL!" he screeched. "STUDENTS RUNNING AROUND IN THE CHARMS HALLWAY!"
The four of them ducked under Sneeze and ran for their lives. Harold saw a door at the end of the hallway, and raced towards it, but when he grabbed the doorknob it wouldn't turn. It was locked.
"No! Filth is gonna kill us!" wailed Don.
"Oh, shut up and get out of the way!" snapped Heidi. She pushed past Don, grabbed Harold's wand, pointed it at the door, and whispered, "unlocky!" The door clicked open, and they hurried inside.
"Ha ha, sounds like 'unlucky,'" sniggered Don. Heidi shot him a look. Harold pushed the door shut and they all pressed their ears against it, listening.
"Sneeze, where did they go?" wheezed Filth's voice.
"Say 'please!'"
"I'm not playing this game, Sneeze, now where are they?"
"I won't say where they are if you don't say please!" sang Sneeze.
"Fine! Please!" snarled Filth.
"WHERE THEY ARE! Ha ha ha, told you I wouldn't say where they are if you didn't say please! Got you! Ha ha haaaaa! Hee hee heeeee! Ho ho hoooooo!" And they heard the sound of Sneeze whooshing away and Filth swearing at the top of his voice.
"I don't think he'll come in here," whispered Harold. "He thinks the door is locked - Nelson, cut it out!" For Nelson had been yanking the sleeve of Harold's bathrobe for the last minute. "Why do you keep pulling my sleeve?"
He turned around - and saw, quite clearly, why. For a moment, he thought he had fallen asleep and was having a nightmare. This was too much on top of everything else.
They weren't in a room, but a hallway. The forbidden hallway on the third floor. And now, as Don and Heidi turned around and screamed in fear, they knew why it was forbidden.
Crouching in front of the four of them was an enormous, three-headed cat. It was so tall the heads almost touched the ceiling. There were three pairs of bright yellow eyes, three giant pink noses, and three hissing mouths with teeth as sharp as knives. Harold guessed that the only reason that they weren't dead yet was because they had surprised the monster, but it was quickly getting over that.
He reached out for the doorknob in a panic. Between Filth and being eaten by a three-headed cat, he'd take Filth.
The door opened and the four of them fell out of the hallway and onto the floor. They jumped back up, slammed the door shut, and raced away. Filth must have gone to look for them somewhere else. There was no sign of him as they sprinted back to Diffindor Tower. Luckily, the Fat Cat was back.
"Where the hell have you been?" it growled. "You four look like you've seen a monster!"
"None of your business - catnip, catnip," Harold gasped, and the portrait swung open. They scrambled through the hole and staggered into armchairs in the living room.
For a while, no one said a thing. Nelson looked as though he would never speak again. Then Don spoke.
"Why the hell would anyone keep something like that in a school?" he said. "If any cat needs to go outside, that one does!"
Heidi jumped to her feet. It looked as though her temper was back.
"Do you even use your sense of sight?" she hissed. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"
"The floor?" said Harold. "I was kind of preoccupied with its heads, actually."
"Very funny. It was standing on a trapdoor, you dope!" snapped Heidi. "Anyone who was smart like me would understand that it's guarding something important. And I hope you're happy; we could've all been eaten! Or worse, kicked out of Pigzits!"
"How is being kicked out worse than being eaten?" said Don incredulously.
"I'm going to bed," said Heidi. "And don't even think about dragging me around the castle ever again!" And with that, she was gone.
"We didn't drag her along!" cried Don in outrage. But Harold wasn't listening. Hadn't Hagger told him that the safest place to keep something other than Stringotts was Pigzits?
It looked as though Harold had figured out where the grubby package from eight million, seven hundred sixty thousand, five hundred and fifty-four was.
Hahaha! I love making Heidi sound mean! And Don is fun to write too. And I know that Harold isn't cocky or anything in the books, but I wanted him to be able to tease Snalfoy too. He deserves the chance, rite? Now review, or I'll lock you in the hallway with the three-headed cat and see how long you can stay alive! MWA HA HA HA! Yes, I have an evil side :-D