The Gryffindor table was abuzz with the news the next morning. "Harry, you do realize that you've got to be the youngest Seeker in a century?!" Harry nodded, filling his plate up with biscuits and sausage gravy.

"I heard that from Wood. He's been talking with me a lot, lately. I'm going with him to the Quidditch Pitch this afternoon so I can really start practicing." Seamus and Dean were clapping him on the back as soon as they arrived, and the talk of the table went from general surprise to specific tactics.

"Okay, so Ravenclaw has a decent defense, but they're usually dead last in the Quidditch Cup," Ron said matter-of-factly. "Hufflepuff is alright in offense, but their Seeker is usually a solid player. You'll have trouble with him. Slytherin's team is all-around decent, but we can beat them if we catch the Snitch early on in the game." Harry nodded, taking it all in.

Suddenly, Malfoy walked past him. "Heard you got on the Quidditch team, Potter," he said nastily. "Is your team really so low that they're looking to parentless first years for a decent Seeker?" Ron stood up in a flash, and Harry did too.

"Back off, Malfoy. Don't start anything." Ron said with a warning tone in his voice.

"I won't. Not here. Wizard duel, trophy room, midnight. Be there." His menacing tone got through to Harry, even though he hadn't the faintest clue what a wizard duel was. Draco walked away with Crabbe and Goyle, and Ron and Harry sat back down.

"So, what is exactly is a wizard duel?" Harry asked quizzically. Ron outlined the basics, saying that two wizards fought with magic, trying to kill or at least disarm the other.

"The most you and Draco can do is shoot red sparks at each other, maybe do a couple hexes." Ron said, reaching for some toast. Harry didn't feel like eating, so he cracked open a book and started reading.

Later that night, Ron and Harry went over some basic spells, and Harry tried to point out a decent-looking Disarming Spell when Ron bolted out of his chair. "Blimey, Harry, it's almost midnight!" Harry and Ron snuck down to the trophy room, and Harry tried to be as quiet as possible, taking care not to alert anyone of his presence.

As they entered the trophy room, the silence enveloped them. No one was around. Ron checked the clock. "It's 12:04," he said uncertainly. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps filled the corridor, and to the young Gryffindors' horror, it was Filch.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Filch barked into the trophy room. He entered the room and shone a lamp in all directions. Luckily, the boys had snuck out the side door, and were on their way to the common room. On the third floor, they encountered Peeves, who chased them into a dark room, but they weren't concerned with Peeves for very long.

"Ron," Harry said quietly. "Don't move a muscle." Ron turned around slowly, and a look of horror shadowed his face. A giant, three-headed dog sat sleeping on the ground, dribbling saliva over the floor. A large harp stood silently at the side, and Harry frowned in confusion.

"Harry…" Ron said, voice quivering. Harry looked back at the dog, and saw its eyes open blearily. The heads lifted up at different times, but all began to look and snarl at the boys.

"RUN!" Harry shouted, and the two boys narrowly made it out in time before the dog's heads began snapping at them. The boys ran as fast as they could to their common room, and gave the Fat Lady the password as quickly as possible.

"What the bloody…I mean, did you see its….the heads were just so….blimey," Ron said, pale faced and shaking. "Why on Earth would we have a three-headed dog in the middle of Hogwarts?" Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. I reckon that's the thing Dumbledore warned us about at the start of term." The two sat quietly, staring at the crackling fire. "What do you suppose was beneath the trapdoor?" Harry asked finally. Ron frowned.

"Trapdoor? I was a bit preoccupied with its heads."

"Yeah, it was standing on a trapdoor. I wonder what it could've…" Harry trailed off. He flashed back to Hagrid's words after he had taken Harry to Gringotts for the first time. "Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything…'cept maybe Hogwarts." "Ron, I think I've got an idea."

Harry explained his experience with Hagrid and the grubby little package in vault 713 at Gringotts. Ron's eyes widened. "Blimey, Harry. So important that Gringotts isn't safe enough? It must be incredibly valuable!" The two read a little bit on the great treasures of the last century, but they quickly became bored.

"I'm going to bed," Harry said sleepily. Ron nodded and followed him. As they came up the stairs, Harry glanced behind his shoulder at a bushy haired girl in the common room with a giant book out, flipping page after page. Harry shook his head, and then went up to his bed. That girl never stopped reading.

The next day, Harry found that he had mail for the second time in his life. Six screech owls had to fly in with a long, thin package. Harry opened the note and his heart stopped. "Ron," he whispered. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand."

"A what?" Ron whispered loudly. The two had a quick and quiet conversation, then both ran up to the common room to stow the broom away before anyone saw it. Harry's heart was pounding hard as he thought giddily to himself, "My own broomstick. I have my very own broomstick."

On the way to the common room, the two gleefully discovered Malfoy sulking around the corridors. "First years aren't allowed a broom, Potter." Malfoy snapped nastily. Just then, Professor Flitwick showed up.

"Not fighting, I hope, are you boys?" he squeaked.

"Potter's got a broom." Malfoy said quickly.

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall informed me of the special circumstances. What model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, Professor." Harry said. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy that I have it now." Laughing at Draco's confusion, the two boys ran to the common room.

"When is your first practice?" Ron asked excitedly.

Harry grinned as he thought back to the note. "Tonight."