Word of his shameful grounding had spread quickly among the students in Slytherin. Glances and whispers followed Harry wherever he walked, and he could hardly bear it. Mercifully, winter holidays began almost immediately after the weekend at Hogsmeade, and none of Harry's classmates in Slytherin remained at Hogwarts for holidays. Their parents were far too well-off to allow their children to languish at school.

As Harry came down for breakfast on the first day of hols, he found the Great Hall nearly deserted. Harry drifted toward the Gryffindor table, and sat next to Ron Weasley. Ron's sister Ginny was seated at the table, as well, along with Hermione Granger.

"This is becoming a tradition," Harry said.

"Hmpfy hmwuhdyfs," Ron mumbled, mouth full of food.

"What?"

Ginny translated: "Happy holidays."

"Oh. You too." Harry helped himself to some pancakes. "Is your whole family staying on for hols?"

Ron nodded and swallowed. "Fred and George aren't awake yet. Percy is off somewhere doing something… head-boy-ish."

"That's nice," said Harry. "How about you, Hermione? Why are you sticking around?"

"I have some school work to catch up on," she said.

Ron both burst out laughing, and even Harry was forced to grin.

"I'm serious," Hermione insisted. "I can't work on anything at home because I'm not allowed to do magic. Homework is more than essay writing, you know."

"I know," said Harry. "But you work so hard as it is. For you to work any harder, there'd have to be two of you." Ron and Ginny laughed, but Hermione went white as a sheet.

"What are we laughing about?" asked Fred and George Weasley in unison as they sat down at the table.

"Just taking the mickey out of Hermione," said Harry. "What have the two of you been up to, lately? Things have been unusually quiet in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts."

"You're starting to sound like Fred," said Ron.

"Filch has become… bothersome," said George, responding to Harry's question.

"Our beloved caretaker has been interfering with our prank preparations, appearing inopportunely," said Fred.

"It's uncanny," said George. "At least four times."

Harry nodded, a grave expression on his face. "It's almost as if somebody could see your exact location in the castle, and knew exactly when you broke curfew, and was giving anonymous tips to Filch whenever you went to the same spot two days in a row."

Fred and George glanced at each other, and their faces broke into identical grins. Harry, unable to maintain a straight face, began to smile as well.

"Now what are we laughing about?" asked Ron.

"Based on Potter's prank, it is now open season on our overly observant…" Fred trailed off.

"Opponent," suggested Hermione.

"Opponent," finished Fred. "Thank you."

Harry found it pleasant to spend time with the Gryffindor students. Unlike his friends in Slytherin, there was no judgment for being grounded on the quidditch team. Harry guessed that the Weasleys respected his flying ability too much, while Hermione simply didn't understand the sport at all.

Christmas came rather quickly. Harry exchanged gifts by mail with Draco, Pansy and Tracey. He received gifts from his friends, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Draco's gift was rather thoughtful—it was the book of curses that Harry and Draco had found so interesting in Borgin and Burke's the year before. There was a note tucked inside: "In case you need to take out some aggression. –D"

The Dursleys sent a small package and a store-bought card that read, "Happy Third Birthday to the Best Daughter in the World." Harry checked the back of the card: it had been on clearance, and his Aunt and Uncle hadn't bothered to remove the tag. Enclosed in the package, Harry found a stale bagel. It was more than half-eaten—Dudley had apparently gotten hungry on the way to the post office.

Harry's greatest surprise came at breakfast, when a large owl swooped into the great hall and deposited an enormous wrapped package in front of Harry. The package was almost as long as Harry was tall. There was no card attached. From the shape of the package, Harry wondered if it could be a broom, but he never expected to open…

"A Firebolt."

"No way," said Ron, leaning in closer to look. Ron reached out tentatively, but stopped short of touching the broom, awed by its presence. "Harry, that's the most expensive broom in the world!"

"Nice," said George Weasley. "Glad you're suspended."

"Shut up," said Harry automatically. He was too excited about the broom to be angry at George.

Fred leaned in for a look as well. "Apparently, Potter's pals are pretty…"

"Puppets?" suggested Ginny.

"Why would I say puppets?"

"It goes with Potter's pals?"

Fred shook his head. "Prosperous. Potter's pals are pretty prosperous."

"Who's that from?" asked Hermione.

"No card," said Harry, turning the broom over in his hands. The wood was polished and smooth—it felt fast, as if it was ready to zip out of Harry's hands at any second.

"I don't know if you should be accepting gifts from strangers," said Ginny. She spoke quietly but intensely.

"Ginny has a point," said Hermione.

"I'm sure it's fine," said Ron. "It's a Firebolt."

"Exactly," said Hermione. "Who would buy that for Harry and not include a card?"

Harry had a good guess: Draco's dad. Lucius Malfoy had purchased the entire Slytherin quidditch team Nimbus 2001s the year before, and Harry and Mr. Malfoy had looked extensively at Firebolts earlier in the year at Diagon Alley. But why wouldn't he include a card?

As soon as Harry asked himself the question, he knew the answer. Lucius wouldn't include a card, because Draco would be jealous. Draco was desperate for his father's approval. Whatever the sign—a gift, an approving word, attention, a hug or a pat on the back—Draco was desperate for it all. If Draco knew that his father bought Harry a Firebolt, especially after Draco had just been named seeker… it might end their friendship.

"Come off it, Hermione," Ron said. "It's more than a broom—it's a work of art. Mucking with a Firebolt would be criminal."

"You keep making my point, Ronald." Hermione folded her arms. "What if it is criminal? What if Sirius Black sent Harry that broom?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "How would Black know that Harry needed a new broom? And how would he have the money to send Harry a Firebolt?"

"Well… I don't like it," said Hermione, frowning.

"I guess we'll just have to fly it this afternoon and see, won't we?" Ron turned to Harry. "What do you say, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I think Hermione is right. The risk doesn't outweigh the reward. Besides, Flint grounded me. Even if it isn't cursed, I still can't play quidditch."

"You're really going to let that sit in your dormitory without flying it?" Ron asked.

"Really, I am," Harry said.

Ron shook his head. "Is there some sort of poison mold down there in the dungeons that makes you lot act completely crazy?"

"Shut up, Ron."

That night, Harry propped the Firebolt in the corner of his dormitory. He sat on his bed, staring at the broom. He was sure that flying could bring him out of his sour mood, and he was desperate to try the new broom…but he knew that he couldn't. Professor Snape had left for holidays, but as soon as he returned, Harry would ask him to examine the Firebolt.

The day before classes resumed, all the students returned to Hogwarts. Snape had returned them on the Hogwarts Express, and Harry had immediately took the Firebolt to Snape's office.

"Professor Snape?" Harry poked his head around the open door.

"Enter."

Harry walked into the office. Snape was bent over a parchment, carefully considering a complex potion formula that Harry didn't recognize.

"What is so important, Mr. Potter, that you must interrupt me immediately upon my return to Hogwarts?"

Harry felt himself begin to blush, but he refused to allow himself to be embarrassed. He knew he was making the right decision. "It's my broom, sir. It was sent by owl as a Christmas gift, but there was no card attached."

Snape was quiet for a moment. "Why have you brought the broom to me?"

"I don't think it's from Sirius Black, but it might be," Harry said. "I didn't want to ride it until you had checked it for curses."

"A wise choice, Potter," said Snape, rising and stepping around his desk. "I would expect no less from a Slytherin."

"Thank you, sir."

"The broom, please?" Snape held out his hand, and Harry handed over the broom. "It will be returned two days from now," Snape said.

"Thank you," said Harry. Harry turned to leave, but Snape's voice called him back.

"Potter? For your own edification, I suggest that you observe the curse breaking process. Meet me outside the second floor Charms rooms this evening at seven o'clock."

Harry smiled. "Yes, sir."

Harry was fidgeting for the rest of the afternoon, unable to sit still or focus at any single task. Even when Tracey suggested a game of gobstones, Harry was unable to concentrate. Tracey beat him badly, then offered a rematch.

"What's got you so distracted?" Tracey asked.

Harry immediately launched into the story of the Firebolt. "So," Harry said, "Granger thought that the Firebolt might be from Sirius Black-"

"I think she's right," said Tracey. "You should take it to Professor Snape. You don't know who sent it, and it could be cursed."

"Right, so-"

"Think of all the awful things it could be," Tracey said. "Maybe it's a homing curse that tells Sirius Black exactly where you are when you're flying the broom. Maybe the broom is enchanted to fly out of the castle and let Sirius Black inside. Maybe the broom is enchanted to throw you off if you fly it high enough."

"I agree," said Harry. "So I-"

"Maybe it's a time delayed curse, and the broom will explode after you ride it a particular number of times. Maybe the curse slow acting, and you're cursed already just from holding the broom. Maybe you haven't noticed and it's cumulative and it builds over time until it kills you."

"Maybe." Harry was beginning to think that Tracey wasn't listening to him.

"If I was trying to curse you, this is exactly how I would do it. Think about it. If I were trying to curse Goyle, I'd use a cupcake." Tracey gestured across the room, where Goyle was more interested in picking his nose than reading the open Astronomy textbook in front of him. "Goyle would eat a cupcake that he found lying on the ground, no questions asked."

Harry smiled and thought back to winter holidays in his second year. "Too true."

"And if I were going to give something cursed to Parkinson," Tracey said, "I'd make it something shiny—earrings, or a necklace. Hemione Granger, I'd use-"

"A book," said Harry.

"Right. Now, if I'm Sirius Black, and I'm trying to kill Harry Potter, what do I use? Jewelry? Sweets? A book? No, I give him a broom so amazing that he couldn't possibly resist riding it. You have to take it to Professor Snape, Harry. I can't believe you're being so irresponsible-"

"TRACEY!" Harry slammed his open hands down on the table. Several gobstones rolled off the board. Harry was amused, but he had to stop Tracey at some point.

Tracey jerked as if shocked. "What, Harry?"

"I've been agreeing with you the entire time!"

"You have?"

"Yes!" Harry laughed. "I gave it to Snape already."

"But… you're such a boy! I figured that you'd been flying the broom since you got it."

"No, Snape's checking it out this evening, and he told me to come watch." Harry glanced at the clock. "Actually, it's almost time for me to leave."

"Great!" Tracey stood. "Let's go."

"Er…"

"Harry, don't even think of leaving me behind. This sounds so cool!"

Tracey started tugging at Harry's arm. Harry allowed himself to be pulled off the couch and into the hallway. Together, he and Tracey walked to the Charms classroom, where they found Professor Snape waiting with the Firebolt.

"Ms. Davis," said Snape, "I am surprised to see you here."

Tracey looked down, all the confidence suddenly gone from her voice. "Harry told me about the Firebolt, sir, and it sounded so interesting…"

"Very well. Perhaps you will both learn something tonight." Snape led Tracey and Harry into a Charms classroom, into the supply room, and then through another door covered in curious runes. Snape pulled open the door and led Harry and Tracey inside. The room was lit by a blue light that seemed to come from everywhere, with no particular source. The floor was made of stones which seemed to form some sort of massive mosaic, arranged in intricate swirls and curves.

"Do either of you recognize this room?"

Both Tracey and Harry shook their heads.

"This is a stasis chamber," Snape said. "The stasis chamber will allow me to examine the enchantments on the broom without triggering them, or any curses." Snape directed Harry and Tracey to a circle of stones. "Stand here."

Once the students were inside the circle, Snape tapped the floor with his wand. The outmost row of stones flashed, then began glowing a steady, bright blue. "This is a ward, for your protection. Any curses I trigger should be arrested by the stasis chamber, but one must always be prudent."

"Why wouldn't you just strip the enchantments?" Harry asked. "It would be the quickest way of making sure there were no curses."

Snape sighed. "Do muggle brooms fly, Mr. Potter?"

"Er… of course not."

"Why?"

"Because they're just wood and twigs, sir."

"And if I stripped your broom of its enchantments, what would it be?"

Harry hung his head, ashamed that he hadn't realized before. "Of course, sir."

"The enchantments make the broom, Mr. Potter, and I am not a broommaker. If I disenchanted your broom, I would be no more able replace the enchantments than you. These enchantments are proprietary magic, and their casting is a closely guarded secret." Snape stepped into the center of the chamber and placed the Firebolt on the floor. He retreated several paces, then waved his wand. The Firebolt rose into the air and began to rotate slowly, surrounded by a blue-white glow.

"We must determine if your broom is cursed, and remove any curses we find, without destroying your broom's ability to fly." The corner of Snape's mouth twitched upwards. "It would be a tragedy to ruin Slytherin's chance at an eighth consecutive quidditch cup."

As Harry watched, Snape waved his wand and several runes appeared, floating in the air around the broom. The runes glowed in the same blue-white light.

"The first step," Snape said, "is to identify the individual enchantments upon the broom. A poor attempt at cursing the broom will be revealed at this stage, as simply an enchantment or curse overlay." Snape began gesturing with his wand, and the various runes grew in size, allowing him to examine them in detail. "Each of these runes represents an enchantment or curse. Mr. Potter, if I find a curse at this level and remove it, is our work done?"

Harry was on guard for trick questions. "No, sir."

"Why not?"

"Because… if Sirius Black is as sneaky and powerful as everybody says he is, he wouldn't leave a trap that was so easily disarmed. If we find anything easily, it's probably meant to be a decoy curse."

"Precisely," said Snape. "Next, we must manipulate the individual enchantments, to determine if their structure has been altered. A skilled wizard can hide curses inside enchantments—essentially, cutting the enchantment open and inserting the curse into an otherwise inert portion of the spell, usually the structural or temporal parameters."

Harry glanced at Tracey, who shrugged at him.

Snape was now enlarging the individual runes to enormous sizes. He used his wand to probe and prod the runes, moving the glowing lines in various directions. "Professor Flitwick will describe this theory to you again in your seventh year, in greater detail. For now, imagine the enchantment as a piece of black string, and the curse as a piece of red string. It is possible to cut the black string, and tie the red string into the middle. A lazy wizard would only examine the beginning of the enchantment for its identity, and the end of an enchantment for its correct effect. The curse, self-contained, would never be noticed."

"What sort of curses are you looking for, sir?" Harry asked.

"Nothing as simple as a Hurling Hex," said Snape. "Something more insidious. Slow-acting poison, perhaps, or something that would attract dementors. Perhaps a curse that would trigger in the presence of a golden snitch, or a certain number of other brooms."

Harry's eyes grew wide. Neither he nor Tracey had considered these possibilities.

Snape had now arranged the runes into a single-file line. Snape stood at the front of the line and peered straight through to the end. "Next we examine for a sequential curse. The various components of the curse would be split and hidden in individual enchantments. Only when the enchantments were used in a particular sequence would the curse be triggered. This is commonly used for self-destructing enchantments, either as security measures or emergency protection. Ms. Davis, why am I viewing the enchantments from this angle?"

"I'm not sure, sir."

"Potter?"

"I don't know either, sir."

Snape sighed. "The components of the curse will arrange themselves into a rune representing the curse. By viewing from front to back, sequentially, I am able to visually examine for curse rune formations. Further, because I am viewing in overlay, rather than actually triggering the enchantments, the curse will be revealed but not activated." Snape waved his wand, and the runes rearranged themselves into a different order. Again and again Snape rearranged the runes, each time examining them for curses. With a final flick of his wand, Snape sent the runes into their original formation.

"Finally, we will examine for an underlying curse. This would be the most difficult of curses for Black to create, but also the most difficult to identify. An underlying curse exists beneath all other enchantments. It is sometimes placed on a specific portion of an item—the handle only, for example, or a particular broom twig. Enchantments are then layered on top of the curse, preventing its discovery. Potter, how would I detect an underlying curse?"

Harry searched his brain for anything that would sound intelligent. "You could bind the enchantments together and move them to a particular portion of the broom, then examine the revealed portion for underlying curses?"

"Impressive. And what if the underlying curse enchanted the whole broom?"

"I don't know, sir."

"The technique for detecting an underlying curse depends upon the magical object. With your broom, I will simply transfer the enchantments to an easily removed twig…" Snape waved his wand, and the enchantments clustered on one twig near the end of Harry's broom. Snape tapped the twig with his wand, and with a sharp *crack* it fell into his hands. "Because the broom has retained its identity as a broom, any underlying enchantments that were cast upon the broom or a portion thereof would be revealed at this point. As you can see, nothing has surfaced. Now, with a simple reparo, your broom is again made whole." Snape reattached the twig with a tap of his wand. "We will quickly check to make sure that I did not select, by unfortunate coincidence, the only twig with an underlying curse…" Snape repeated the processes, this time removing another twig.

"That seems rather easy, sir." Harry was skeptical.

"For a wizard of my caliber, yes, it seems easy." Snape gave Harry a harsh glance. "Trust me when I say that it is not. Simultaneous manipulation of multiple enchantments, recognition and removal of curses, all of this while leaving your heavily enchanted broom unharmed… Of your professors, only Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, and perhaps Professor McGonagall could examine your broom as I have. Both Flitwick and McGonagall would take considerably longer than I, as well."

Snape stepped forward and plucked Harry's broom from the air. The blue-white aura faded. "Your Firebolt, Mr. Potter, is clean."

With a bright smile, Harry seized his broom.