HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!
Shit, I've just realised I'm gonna be FOURTY-THREE this year! I'M SO OLD!
Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed.
'Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was,' said Fred bracingly. 'And he's been off colour for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly. One swallow – he probably didn't feel a thing.'
'Fred!' I said indignantly.
'All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself,' said George.
'He bit Goyle for us once!' Ron said miserably. 'Remember, Harry?'
'Yeah, that's true,' said Harry.
'His finest hour,' said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. 'Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat. What's the point of moaning?'
In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry and I persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a go on the Firebolt after we'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment ('Brilliant! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?') so we set off for the Quidditch pitch together. Hermione was also keen on trying it out now we knew it wasn't dangerous, but she was avoiding Ron, so she decided to wait for some other occasion. Demelza and Amy had no such issues though, so they were staying behind after reserve team practice to watch ours, then have their turns.
Madam Hooch, who was still overseeing Gryffindor first team practices to keep an eye on Harry was just as impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else had been. She took it in her hands before take-off and gave us the benefit of her professional opinion.
'Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail-end – you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated the handle, too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows – a pity they've stopped making them, I learned to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was too …'
She continued in this vein for some time, until Wood said, 'Er – Madam Hooch? Is it OK if Harry has the Firebolt back? Only we need to practise …'
'Oh – right – here you are, then, Potter,' said Madam Hooch. 'I'll sit over here with Weasley, Robins and Bagman…'
She and Ron left the pitch to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathered around Wood for his final instructions for tomorrow's match.
'Harry, I've just found out who Ravenclaw are playing as Seeker. It's Cho Chang. She's a fourth- year, and she's pretty good … I really hoped she wouldn't be fit, she's had some problems with injuries …' Wood scowled his displeasure that Cho Chang had made a full recovery, then said, 'On the other hand, she rides a Comet Two Sixty, which is going to look like a joke next to the Firebolt.' He gave Harry's broom a look of fervent admiration, then said, 'OK, everyone, let's go –'
We all rose up into the air, and I looked at Harry, who unsurprisingly seemed to be having the time of his life. The Firebolt looked unbelievable to see in use, it's speed and changes of direction were perfect, and it made every other broom on the pitch look like they were from the 1800s.
Harry turned it so sharply that I screamed, then he went into a perfectly controlled dive, brushing the grassy pitch with his toes before rising thirty, forty, fifty feet into the air again –
'Harry, I'm letting the Snitch out!' Wood called. Harry turned and raced a Bludger towards the goalposts; he outstripped it easily, saw the Snitch dart out from behind Wood and within ten seconds had caught it tightly in his hand. The team cheered madly. Harry let the Snitch go again, gave it a minute's head start, then tore after it, weaving in and out of the rest of us; he spotted it lurking near Katie's knee, looped her easily, and caught it again.
It was the best practice ever; we, inspired by the presence of the Firebolt in their midst, performed our best moves faultlessly, and by the time we hit the ground again, Wood didn't have a single criticism to make, which, as George pointed out, was a first.
'I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!' said Wood. 'Not unless – Harry, you've sorted your Dementor problem, haven't you?'
'Yeah,' said Harry, though I had a feeling he wasn't being entirely honest.
'The Dementors won't turn up again, Oliver, Dumbledore'd do his nut,' said Fred confidently.
'Well, let's hope not,' said Wood. 'Anyway – good work, everyone. Let's get back to the Tower – turn in early …'
'Ginny and I are staying out for a bit, she, Ron, Demelza and Amy want a go on the Firebolt,' Harry told Wood, and while the rest of the team headed off to the changing rooms, Harry and I strode over to them. They vaulted the barrier to the stands and came to meet us. Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in her seat.
Ron, an expression of ecstasy on his face, mounted the broom and zoomed off into the gathering darkness. After a while, I had my turn, and honestly, it was one of the best experiences of my life, I felt like once I got back on my Cleansweep, it just wouldn't feel the same again! Once Demelza and Amy had taken their turns individually, we each attempted to score some goals with the Quaffle. Demelza and I both scored all of our attempts, with Ron as keeper. The speed of the broom meant he never stood a chance at predicting which way we would shoot. Amy and Ron missed a couple when they tried shooting, but they weren't natural Chasers so we couldn't blame them.
Night had fallen before Madam Hooch awoke with a start, told us off for not waking her, and insisted that we go back to the castle. Harry shouldered the Firebolt and we walked out of the shadowy stadium, discussing the Firebolt's superbly smooth action, its phenomenal acceleration and its pinpoint turning. We were halfway towards the castle when Harry, glancing to his left, appeared to see something, and he stopped dead.
'What's the matter? said Ron.
Harry pointed. Ron pulled out his wand and muttered, 'Lumos!' A beam of light fell across the grass, hit the bottom of a tree and illuminated its branches; there, crouching amongst the budding leaves, was Crookshanks.
'Get out of it!' Ron roared, and he stooped down and seized a stone lying on the grass, but before he could do anything else, Crookshanks had vanished with one swish of his long ginger tail. 'See?' Ron said furiously, chucking the stone down again. 'She's still letting him wander about wherever he wants – probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now …'
I was confused though, as Harry appeared pretty shaken up. I looked at Demelza and Amy and they were similarly clueless.
"Harry" I said "why did that scare you? It was only Crookshanks"
Harry didn't say anything though, nor did he look left or right until we had reached the well lit Entrance Hall.
