Chapter Six
Harry woke early that morning, just as the sun rose over the horizon. His roommates were still sleeping. Harry got out of bed and went to the washroom. The bathroom had four toilets, two enclosed, and four shower stalls. Harry undressed and took a nice, scalding shower, filling the washroom with steam. Once he was dry and his teeth brushed, he dressed in his uniform and combed his hair to show off his scar.
Harry's roommates were beginning to stir. Neville sat up in bed, yawned, and rubbed his eyes. Dean stretched as he got up and gave a brief hello to Harry as he proceeded to the washroom, Seamus soon following. Ron was lying on his stomach, still snoring deeply. Harry and Wednesday were used to getting up early, while Pugsley was fond of sleeping in.
Harry walked over to his nightstand, where Mano lay on his pillow. Harry gave the Hand a slight tap on his palm. Mano stretched open, then rolled over onto his fingertips. It was hard to read the expression of a hand, having no face, but Harry could tell Mano was standing alert and ready to please his master.
"Ron could use a little help waking up. Do you think you can manage that, Mano?" The Hand gave a thumbs up, then leaped from his pillow to the bed, then through the air, landing on Ron's blanket. Mano grabbed the bedspread and pulled it away from the sleeping boy. Ron was a tangled mess under his sheets; his legs curled in odd angles, one arm pulled under his chest, the other dangling off the side.
Mano crawled up to Ron's face and tapped his cheek. Ron snorted a little and rolled onto his side. Mano crawled closer and gave the boy's nose a tweak. Ron's eyes fluttered open blearily. Suddenly, his eyes widened in shock and, with a brief shriek, jolted awake, squirming away from the living Hand. Harry smirked at Ron's shock. He whistled and held out his Hand. Mano leaped from the bed, landing in Harry's palm, then crawled up his arm to sit on his shoulder.
"Is something the matter, Ron? Are you all right?" he asked innocently. Ron gasped to gain his breath and pointed at Mano.
"All right? He scared the life out of me! Sic him on Malfoy, not me!" Harry chuckled and left to let Ron get ready for the morning. Harry and Mano walked downstairs. The Common Room had a few students milling about, dressing in their uniforms, chatting together. The dull chattering changed to hushed whispers when Harry entered the room. Harry rolled his eyes and found an empty chair, sitting down and picking up a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table beside it.
The Daily Prophet was the national paper of the British Wizarding World. It discussed various subjects, such as local and international news, gossip, fashion, sports, and stocks. The black and white photos printed moved like the paintings he'd become familiar with. The paintings of the castle were fully interactive, and they could communicate with those viewing them. The photos in the paper were looped little clips, like newsreels on television. Harry read the paper, trying to ignore the stares and whispers of the other students as they began to fill the Common Room. Soon enough, Ron came staggering down the stairs, still pulling on his robes. Harry stood, and together, the two went to breakfast.
As they passed, more people turned to point, look, and whisper. It was the same at breakfast. Harry had a grapefruit slice and a hardboiled egg. He missed the meals at home; the fare at Hogwarts seemed tame and bland. He ate, staring at his plate as everyone stared at him. Ron tried to imply they were staring at Mano since seeing a living severed Hand was pretty unusual, but Harry could tell he was the main subject of discussion.
Harry's first few days at Hogwarts were fascinating despite the constant attention. The various subjects were comprehensive yet complex. His schedule was filled with many different subjects, and there were so many other classes that Harry wasn't sure which he looked forward to more.
Each Wednesday at Midnight, they had Astronomy classes with Professor Sinistra, who taught them the various names and positions of the planets, stars, constellations, and more. They had Herbology from a short Witch named Professor Sprout three times a week, who wore brown robes splotched with earth.
Harry impressed Professor Sprout with his knowledge of various plants and fungi, which he had learned from Morticia. She had been quite shocked at his touch with the Venomous Tentacula; his years tending to Cleopatra had prepared him for dealing with prehensile, carnivorous plants.
History of Magic turned out to be a disappointment. It was the only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had taught for over 200 years, living and dead. One night, he'd gone to sleep in front of the fireplace in the staff room and passed away. When he woke in the morning, he was dead but went off to teach his class.
The class began with the somewhat exciting sight of the Professor phasing through the blackboard. Still, when he opened his mouth, his wheezy, droning voice lecturing old and uninteresting past events made most of the class feel drowsy. Hermione was the only one who listened with rapt attention, scribbling notes on parchment.
Mano was Harry's scribe, detailing essential tidbits of information to remember, but even the appendage seemed bored listening to the droning ghost, and he didn't even have any ears. Hermione had asked Harry how Mano could see and hear without a head; Harry shrugged, saying he didn't need one to perceive his environment.
Professor Flitwick was the Charms teacher and Music Director, conducting the Frog Choir and School Orchestra. He was a very short Wizard who stood at his podium on a pile of books for his students to see. Harry suspected the little man was part Goblin but felt asking would be rude.
After class, he asked Flitwick about joining the orchestra with his violin. Flitwick nearly toppled off his stack of books in excitement at Harry Potter joining his orchestra and informed him when auditions would occur.
Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classes were complex yet fascinating. In the first class, she gave a speech, saying she would not tolerate tardiness or foolishness in her class. Students were to arrive on time, pay close attention, and do their work orderly.
She impressed the class by transfiguring her desk into a live pig, who snorted, walked about before the class, and then turned it back. Harry's mind swam with questions. Did the desk become a real pig, or was it charmed to look and act like one? Could the transfigured pig be butchered and eaten, or would it taste like Wood? He asked Mano to make a note to remind him to ask these questions.
Professor McGonagall had been momentarily startled at the sight of Mano taking notes. So far, his teachers had been more intrigued than disturbed by Mano; Professor Flitwick remarked that it was impressive charm work to make an animate hand until he realized Mano was all too real upon shaking him when offered.
Harry asked her if it was all right for Mano to take his notes while he listened to her lecture, and she shook off her surprise and said it was okay, provided he didn't distract the other students. They had to transfigure a match into a needle for their first class. By the end of the class, only a few had succeeded, including Hermione and Harry, earning them five points.
Defense Against the Dark Arts had been the class everyone was looking forward to, but it turned out to be a bit of a joke. Professor Quirrell stammered through his notes, seemed scared of the subject he taught, and jolted whenever a student asked a question. When he saw Mano, he shrieked in terror at the students' amusement. His classroom and turban stank of garlic, which the Weasley Twins theorized was to ward off the vampire he supposedly encountered that turned him so cowardly.
In between his classes, Harry spent time exploring the castle and the grounds. There were many secret doors and passageways everywhere; sometimes doors wouldn't open unless you asked politely, some stairs looked solid, but your foot passed through them when you stepped, and sometimes doors that were there one minute were gone the next. It was maddening trying to memorize which details about the castle to be mindful of, but Harry and Mano did their best to note every one of them.
One day, he found himself on the Third Floor near the forbidden corridor. It was there that he met the castle caretaker, Mr. Filch. Filch was a foul-tempered man with a nasty face. His pet cat, Mrs. Norris, was a dusty gray with red eyes. Filch and Mrs. Norris were feared and hated by the entire student body, and the feeling was mutual on their part. It was said the only one who knew the castle better than Dumbledore was Filch, knowing every secret and trick Hogwarts had. When Mrs. Norris found someone breaking the rules, she ran to fetch her master, and soon enough, Filch would come wheezing to catch the culprits and assign detention.
Harry was found too close to the forbidden corridor by Filch, who chewed him out, accusing him of deliberately trying to trespass. Harry was about to protest his innocence when there was a massive crash a few feet away, followed by an insane cackle. Filch forgot about Harry and tore after the noise, screaming Peeves' name.
On Friday morning, Harry and Ron checked their schedules and found they had a double class of Potions with the Slytherin students that day. Snape favored his House over the others and seemed to hate Gryffindor passionately.
As the students ate, the mail began to be delivered. The Great Hall was filled with owls, each carrying letters, packages, and newspapers. Harry watched until he spied Hedwig. The faithful snowy owl flew over her master and dropped a handful of letters and a small package before landing on the table for a bite of toast.
Harry had written to his family, detailing his first days at Hogwarts. He told about his new friendship with Ron and his other roommates, his fascinating classes, the sprawling and impressive castle, and its grounds.
Gomez and Morticia wrote back about how they missed Harry around the House and how it didn't seem the same without him. Wednesday would soon start her magical education at Nightshade Academy, the school Morticia had learned her craft from.
Pugsley was depressed that both his siblings would soon be gone to study magic. It didn't bother Pugsley that he had no powers, save rudimentary survival magic, due to his heritage. While Morticia and Grandmama tutored Harry and Wednesday in the mystic arts, Fester taught Pugsley all he knew about chemistry and mechanical and electrical engineering. Pugsley was happy for his brother and sister to harness their powers but wished they were still together, raising havoc at school and in the neighborhood.
Wednesday had written Harry, advising that if the other students watched his every move and whispered behind his back, he should give them something to discuss. Whenever the students of their old school tried messing with the three of them, they had a motto: don't get mad; get even! Many students found unpleasant surprises in their lockers and desks, which taught them to avoid the Addamses.
Harry had written that he missed the cooking at home, so Grandmama sent him a package of treats. Harry grinned when he opened the box to find toadstool cookies, a can of smoked tadpoles, cured crocodile sausage, and a box of his favorite henbane tea.
Harry filled a cup with hot water and dipped a bag inside. Soon, the Cup was filled with a dark gray tea, which began to bubble and smoke, much to the surprise of others sitting near him. Harry took a sip and felt some of the homesickness that had been nagging at him fall away. He saw the looks on his Housemate's faces and offered to share his tea, but everybody turned him down.
The third letter was written in an untidy scrawl from Hagrid. It was an offer to visit for tea, as he had Friday afternoons off. Harry quickly wrote a response and gave it to Hedwig to deliver, as he needed Mano for class, but he promised the helpful appendage that he could stretch his fingers on his own soon.
Harry and Ron walked stair after stair until they were in the castle's dungeons. Harry asked Ron if there was a playroom somewhere with a rack, an iron maiden, and a pillory. Ron turned a little pale and said he hoped there wasn't. The potions classroom was dark, dank, and chilly—various ingredients filled jars and vials on the shelves. The students took their seats and waited for Professor Snape to enter.
Snape briskly threw open the door and stalked to the front of the class, a sneer on his face. He turned to the class, hands clasped behind his back. His black robes billowed about him like the wings of a bat. Snape sneered at the students before beginning his spiel.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is Potions making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition." He glanced at Malfoy and gave a slight look of approval.
"I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. If you aren't the usual dunderheads, I have the displeasure of teaching each Year." Harry grew to dislike Professor Snape almost as much as he suspected Snape disliked him. Snape kept giving him dirty looks. Suddenly, he turned to face Harry.
"Potter, what would I get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Harry thought about it momentarily, remembering what he had learned from Grandmama. He looked Snape in the eye and responded.
"A potion known as the Draught of Living Death, so named because it puts the drinker into such a deep sleep, it seems they are dead." Snape's eyes narrowed, displeased that his question to baffle Harry was answered correctly. He tried another, asking where one could find a bezoar and what it was used for.
"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and can cure most poisons." Again, Snape looked displeased. Harry noticed that Hermione was desperately raising her hand to answer the questions. Snape was ignoring her.
"What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" Hermione practically jumped out of her seat. Harry gestured towards her.
"Perhaps you should ask Hermione; she seems desperate to answer." Some in the class snickered at this; Snape, however, was not amused.
"I didn't ask Granger; I asked you, Potter!" he snapped. Harry then answered that there was no difference between the two plants; they were the same herb, just different names, and a third was Aconite. Ron gave a faint cheer of approval, which earned him a glare from Snape.
"Five points from Gryffindor for your insolence Potter. And why aren't any of you copying this down?" Suddenly, everybody was pulling out quills and ink. Mano had been scribbling in Harry's grimoire, but a glare from Snape made the Hand cower and jump into Harry's pocket. Snape had them working on a boil-curing solution, writing the ingredients and directions on the board. Harry had most of the ingredients in the kit he purchased at Diagon Alley.
Harry, Ron, and Mano worked together to prepare the potion. Snape swooped about the room, critiquing everyone on how they prepared the ingredients and followed directions. He praised Malfoy for how well he stewed his horned slugs when there was an explosion. Harry turned and saw Neville and Seamus's cauldron burst into a cloud of green smoke and melt into a twisted mess, the ruined potion flowing all over the floor, hissing and smoking like acid. Poor Neville had been drenched in the potion and was covered in painful boils.
Snape stormed over and harshly admonished Neville for messing up the potion. He then turned on Harry, accusing him of deliberately not warning Neville about adding the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire. Harry's eyes narrowed, and he felt his cheeks flush. He was about to protest but remembered what Wednesday had taught him: don't get mad; get even. Snape told Seamus to take Neville to the Hospital Wing and removed five more points from Gryffindor. When class ended, Harry began to think of ways to get revenge on Snape.
Soon, it was time for Harry to visit Hagrid. Ron asked if he could tag along, and Harry said he didn't mind. Hagrid lived in a wood and stone hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forrest. When Harry knocked on the door, he heard a loud woofing inside. Hagrid's voice rang out, telling something called Fang to get back.
The door opened to show Hagrid struggling to keep a massive hound from bursting out the door. He smiled at the two boys and welcomed them inside. The hut was one enormous room with a large bed in the corner, smoked meats, and birds hung from the ceiling. Hagrid told them to make themselves at home and let go of a large dog, Fang, Harry assumed, who bounded over to Ron and began to lick his ears.
Harry introduced Ron, who struggled against the overly friendly dog. Hagrid said hello to Ron, shaking his hand and shooing away the overly happy dog. He turned to Harry, and his eyes widened at the sight of Mano on his shoulder. Harry smiled and introduced the Hand to the massive groundskeeper.
"Amazing! Ain't never seen such a thing before!" Hagrid reached out to shake Mano. For once, Mano was nervous about greeting someone. He hesitated for a moment, then jumped into Hagrid's massive Hand. Hagrid grinned as he gently shook the animate Hand before putting him back on Harry's shoulder.
Hagrid turned and put on a pot of tea before offering the two boys some rock cakes. The cakes were shapeless lumps, almost as hard as their name implied. Ron politely took one but hid it in his pocket. On the other hand, Harry quite liked them, crunching them between his strong teeth and dunking them in his Cup. They were similar to the scones Lurch made for Sunday tea.
Harry and Ron told Hagrid all about their first days at Hogwarts. Fang rested his head in Harry's lap, drooling from his jowls. Harry gently scratched the dog behind his floppy ears. When Harry talked about his class with Snape, he asked Hagrid what the Potions teacher's problem with him could be.
"Aw, I doubt ee's out fer ye, 'Arry. Ee's not fond o'any students 'cept the Slytherins." Hagrid then asked about Ron's brother Charlie, who had been his friend when he was at Hogwarts, helping care for the animals of the castle and grounds. Ron told Hagrid about Charlie's work in Romania with dragons. Hagrid wistfully said he'd always wanted a dragon for himself.
As they talked, Harry heard snapping fingers behind him. Mano was pointing to a newspaper clipping on the table. The clipping was from the Prophet and detailed the break-in at Gringotts that Ron had told him about. Just as Harry had suspected, the vault broken into was the very one Hagrid had taken the small wrapped object from. Harry thought about asking Hagrid about it but doubted the giant man would openly share what he knew; he'd been so secretive about picking up the object, under Dumbledore's orders, no less.
Hagrid sent them on their way with more rock cakes. Ron gave Harry his portion. Harry munched on them as he thought about the break-in. Something nagged at Harry about the break-in, the strange object, the forbidden corridor on the third floor. Somehow, they had to be connected. He would write to Wednesday and ask her what theories she might have.
Wednesday was a fan of mystery fiction and true crime. She often spent her free time pouring over cold case evidence pictures and police notes she found in the local library's newspaper archives. She also wrote stories about a young, psychic detective named Viper De La Muerte, who solved crimes in her hometown. Harry was sure his sister could piece together what these bits of information meant and how they fit together. He wrote her a letter that night and gave it to Hedwig to deliver. He went to bed that night, mind still mulling over what the object on the third floor could be and why Snape seemed to be targeting him.
Harry didn't have to put up with Malfoy very much since Gryffindors only had to share lessons with the Slytherins during potions class. Malfoy seemed to think he was the Prince of Slytherin. Malfoy was always flanked by Crabbe and Goyle everywhere he went, but at meal times, he was often the center of attention for the students around him. Draco frequently got care packages from home, filled with sweets that he would 'generously' share with those he felt gave him the proper respect.
The few times Harry encountered Malfoy in the castle, the Slytherin boy sneered and made rude remarks about Harry's friends, his House, and his family. Harry never rose to the blond prat's bait but filed it away for later retribution.
Harry had become friendly with the Weasley Twins, notorious for pranks against the students and staff. Harry had shown them the bomb kit he'd gotten from Pugsley. The twins were intrigued by the Muggle pieces of machinery and wires. Fred and George were big spenders at the Hogsmede joke shop, Zonko's, mainly their stock of fireworks and dung bombs.
Harry showed them how to craft a time delay trigger, which could be modified to fit one of the twins' custom-designed Super Dungbombs. Harry and the twins planned to place it underneath the Slytherin House table in the Great Hall, with Harry suggesting placing it nearest to Malfoy's seat so he got the full blast. Mano was small enough to crawl about without being noticed, so he could hide the stench device, allowing the three boys to be seen in public doing other activities and giving them a plausible alibi.
The peace of having only one class with the Slytherins died when one morning, the Gryffindor students found a notice saying that on the following Thursday, Flying lessons would start, and they would be taking them with Slytherin House. Harry had been looking forward to flying for the first time, and he wouldn't let Malfoy or the other Slytherins ruin it for him.
Several of Harry's Housemates had been flying since they were little, such as Ron, who had grown up playing Quidditch with his brothers. However, only some people had experience with a broom, so Harry wasn't alone in that regard. Hermione and Neville were quite nervous about the upcoming lesson, having never been on a broom.
That morning at breakfast, the mail was delivered. Harry's letters to and from home took longer than most students to be delivered. Relay teams delivered international mail of owls. One owl would fly to a mail post, their letters or packages taken and placed immediately on another owl, and so on, until it finally reached their destination. Hedwig slept in the Owlery after her latest delivery, so Harry didn't expect anything that morning.
Neville received a package from his Grandmother, delivered by a Barn Owl. Inside the package was a small glass sphere filled with pale white smoke. Seamus recognized it as a Remembrall, and Hermione perked up with interest.
"I've read about those; they're quite useful. When the smoke turns red, it means you've forgotten something." Suddenly, the smoke within the glass ball turned a scarlet red. Neville's face fell at this.
"The only problem is, I can't remember what I've forgotten!" He was still examining it, trying to remember, when Malfoy walked past and snatched it from his Hand. Nevile tried to protest, but Draco pushed him back into his seat. Harry and Ron stood about to confront Draco when Professor McGonagall approached, her face stern. Malfoy returned the Remembrall, saying he was looking at it, then left the Gryffindors to finish their breakfast peacefully.
Later that afternoon was their first flying lesson. The students walked down a sloping grassy path towards a large flat area, where several broomsticks were lined up in two rows. A Witch with spiky gray hair and gleaming yellow eyes awaited them. Soon, the Slytherin students arrived and stood opposite the Gryffindors. Fred and George had spoken about the school brooms, how they were practically antiques that vibrated and drifted if you went too high or fast. Most students bought their brooms after their First Year, hoping to join the House Quidditch Teams. The flying Professor greeted the students.
"Good afternoon, class; welcome to your first flying lesson. I am Madame Hooch, your flying instructor and prime referee for Quidditch. Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand beside your broomstick!" She had a sharp, barking voice. Madame Hooch's appearance and demeanor reminded Harry of an Eagle.
The students all stood beside each broom laid before them. The broom before Harry was old and gnarled, with bent twigs. It reminded him of Grandmama's broom. Grandmama had had the broom since she was Harry's age. It still flew but required a jumpstart to get going. Grandmama would climb to the roof with her broom in her hands and run back and forth across the rooftop until the broom shuddered to life, then she swung her leg over the shaft, sat, and flew off into the sky as fast as she could before the broom left without her.
Madame Hooch instructed the students to hold their right Hand over the brooms before them and say the word, up. The students held their hands above the aged broomsticks and called, up! Harry was one of the few whose broom responded immediately. As soon as he spoke the word, the broom flew right up into his Hand. Draco's broom also flew into his hand at once. Hermione's broom rolled about a bit while Neville stayed still. Ron's broom swung upwards and smacked him right in the face. Harry snickered at that, earning him Ron's ire.
Eventually, everyone had their broom in their hands, either by the brooms flying into their grasp or simply giving up and picking it up off the ground. Madame Hooch instructed the students to mount their brooms, like riding a horse or bicycle, and to grip them tight so as not to slide off the back. Harry and Ron were pleased to see her berate Malfoy, saying he had been flying improperly for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, I want you to kick off from the ground hard. Keep your broom steady, hover briefly, then lean forward slightly and touch back down. Three, two…" Madame Hooch then blew sharply on her whistle.
Suddenly, Neville was shooting off the ground hard and fast, screaming at the top of his lungs. Madame Hooch called for Neville to come back down at once, but the broom was flying too erratically to be controlled. Neville screamed, desperately trying to hang on for dear life. Suddenly, the broom slipped from Neville's grasp, and the poor boy fell twenty feet. Everyone raced forward to the crumpled remains of Neville.
Madame Hooch pushed through the crowd and knelt to examine Neville. His Hand was at an odd angle, his wrist badly broken. Madame Hooch picked the sobbing Neville up off the ground.
"Everyone is to remain firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing, understand? If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say Quidditch!" Madame Hooch took Neville under her arm and half carried him along. As soon as they were out of earshot, Malfoy burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the worthless lump!" Draco and several Slytherins laughed at Neville's misfortune. Parvati Patil told Malfoy to shut up, making the Slytherins jeer at her. Malfoy noticed something shining in the Nevile-shaped crater in the grass—the Remembrall. Draco quickly snatched it up, still grinning wickedly.
"Maybe if the git had given this a squeeze, he would have remembered to land on his fat arse!" Harry walked forward.
"I don't think that belongs to you, Draco; please hand it over." Harry extended his hand toward the Slytherin boy. Malfoy sneered at Harry as everyone got relatively quiet.
"No, I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find; how about on the roof!" The Slytherins hooted with laughter. Harry's eyes narrowed. He walked closer to Malfoy.
"I asked you nicely, Draco, to give it back." Harry's voice was low and cold, his eyes dark. Malfoy looked into Harry's eyes and flinched. He backed away and tried to keep an arrogant face.
"If you want it, come get it, Potter!" Draco leaped on his broom and flew up into the air quickly. He hovered near the top of the trees, tossing the Remembrall in the air and catching it. Harry grabbed his broom and was about to mount it when Hermione grabbed his arm.
"Harry, no, you heard what Madame Hooch said! You'll get us all into trouble!" Harry ignored her and kicked off the ground hard. Harry flew up like he'd been doing it all his life. Part of him was thrilled to fly and wanted to cheer, but Harry had to deal with Malfoy first. Harry flew up until he was hovering across from Malfoy, staring him in the eyes.
"I'll ask you again, Draco, to give me Neville's Remembrall." He hovered closer to the blonde, pale boy.
"Or I'll knock you off your broom and watch you crash to the ground." Malfoy tried to look defiant, but his eyes were worried.
"You wouldn't dare, Potter!" Harry leaned forward hard on his broom and shot at Malfoy like a bullet. The blonde boy barely had time to swerve out of the way. Harry sharply turned to keep from crashing into the wall of the castle. Some of the students below were cheering and clapping.
"No goons to protect you up here, Malfoy!" Harry readied to fire himself towards Malfoy again. The same thought seemed to cross Draco's mind, his face turning paler than usual. He lifted the Remembrall.
"You want it, then catch it, Potter!" Draco heaved the glass sphere through the air. Harry shot past Malfoy after the delicate device. The ball fell towards the ground, and Harry followed, faster and faster. The wind whipped past his face, and blood pounded in his ears as he zoomed after the glass sphere. He stretched out his hand and caught the ball just inches from the ground, pulling up just in time to keep from crashing face-first into the grass. Harry soared back into the air; the Remembrall clutched triumphantly. The other students cheered loudly at Harry's feat.
"HARRY POTTER-ADDAMS!" Harry heard a voice call up to him from the ground. Harry looked down and saw a very flustered and angry Professor McGonagall. Harry's face fell as he realized the gravity of what he had done. True, he saved Neville's Remembrall and showed up Malfoy, but he broke the rules in a big and dangerous way. Harry directed his broom downwards and landed softly. McGonagall stormed over to Harry, her face a mixture of anger and worry. Harry noticed that there could be a bit of pride there.
"Never…in all my time at Hogwarts…irresponsible…could have broken your neck…" McGonagall was nearly speechless as she panted for breath. Pavarti and Ron tried to defend his actions, to explain about Malfoy, but McGonagall shushed them. Harry looked at his friends and calmly shook his head.
"You're right, Professor; I was reckless and did not reason. I take full responsibility for my actions." He held out the Remembrall to his Head of House. McGonagall was surprised by Harry's honesty and accountability. She glanced at the Remembrall, taking it from Harry, and then she looked at Malfoy, her anger seeming to change direction toward him. Malfoy blanched under her gaze but said Nothing. McGonagall turned her attention back to Harry.
"Come with me, Potter-Addams." Harry followed behind the Professor, handing his broomstick to Ron. Malfoy and his goons grinned wickedly as Harry walked off. They walked in silence back to the castle and down various corridors.
'Well,' Harry thought to himself. 'Hogwarts has been fascinating, but now it's time to go.' Harry and his siblings were expelled from other schools in their young lives for various reasons. Gomez and Morticia never held it against them, only telling them they were disappointed in their behavior, expecting better of them, but still loved. Sometimes, they even agreed with their children that the schools were silly to expel them for frivolous reasons, such as playing with dynamite caps or letting the class snake out for some exercise. Harry had only done what the snake had asked him to do; it said it was bored, being stuck in its case all the time.
Harry had never liked any school he went to before Hogwarts. He was sad to leave this place but knew it was his fault. He followed McGonagall until they came to Professor Flitwick's classroom. She poked her head in and asked if she could borrow Wood. Harry wondered if they would cane him for misbehaving, a practice that most schools had outlawed in this day and age, but he had been through worse from Wednesday when they 'played together.'
Wood, it turned out, was a Fifth year Gryffindor boy who confusedly asked Professor McGonagall if anything was wrong. She told the two boys to follow her. Wood looked at Harry, his eyes widening when he realized who he was standing with, but he followed their Head of House in silence.
McGonagall led them to an empty classroom, aside from Peeves, who was writing obscene things on the blackboard. McGonagall commanded the poltergeist to leave, earning her a raspberry from Peeves, who flew away through the wall. McGonagall turned to Harry and gestured to the older boy.
"Potter-Addams, this is Oliver Wood, Captain and Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Wood, I have found you a Seeker!" Oliver's face shifted from surprise to disbelief to delight.
"Are you serious, Professor?" he asked excitedly. McGonagall assured him she was, that Harry was the most natural talent on a broom she had ever seen. She told Wood how Harry had caught the Remembrall only a few inches from the ground. Oliver gave Harry a look over, saying he was the right size and build for a Seeker, too. Harry, however, needed some clarification. He raised his hand to speak.
"Excuse me, Professor, but why are you considering adding me to the Quidditch team? For one thing, I've never played or even seen a game of Quidditch in my life, and for another, I broke the rules. I was flying without permission and, as you said, could have gotten myself killed. Surely I deserve to be punished, not rewarded." McGonagall looked somewhat surprised at this. Oliver gave Harry a look that seemed to say, 'Quiet, you fool, you'll spoil everything!'
"You are quite right, Mr. Potter-Addams; you did disobey a direct order from a Professor, and had you not been so lucky, you could have easily gotten yourself killed. By all accounts, I should most certainly punish you. But, as we have been unable to find a decent Seeker for the Gryffindor team for some time now, resulting in one humiliating defeat to Slytherin after another, I cannot let this marvelous opportunity pass us by. I will give you a stern warning this time, Potter-Addams. I want to hear you've been training hard, or perhaps I will change my mind about assigning a punishment to you." She turned to Oliver.
"I want to be regularly informed of Harry's progress. I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore about 'bending' the rule against first-years owning brooms. We can't have our new Seeker flying on one of the school antiques." Harry's eyes widened at this. A broom of his own! He was chosen to play for the House team and was getting his own broom! McGonagall turned to Harry before leaving.
"Your Father would be very proud of you, Harry; he was quite the Quidditch player." This piqued Harry's interest. There was still so much he didn't know about his birth parents, especially about their years at Hogwarts. Oliver said he would show Harry the trophy room, where there was a plaque naming James Potter amongst his teammates back then. At dinnertime, Harry told Ron of his good fortune. Ron was amazed and thrilled for Harry.
"First years rarely get on the House teams! You must be the youngest player…"
"In a century, yes, Oliver told me," Harry said. He would start training the following week but swore Ron to secrecy, as Wood wanted it to be a surprise that Harry Potter would be playing for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Fred and George Weasley came over to congratulate Harry. They were the Beaters on the team.
"We're sure to win the Cup this Year! Slytherin won't stand a chance!" said Fred
"Wood was nearly jumping for joy when he told us!" said George.
The twins then left, saying they had to meet up with Lee Jordan, a boy in their Year, who said he'd found a new secret passageway they hadn't seen before. Malfoy came strutting up to the Gryffindor table, his face smug.
"Having a last meal, Potter? When do they send you back to your freakish family in the States?" Harry continued his meal, not looking up at Malfoy.
"My name is Potter-Addams; please use it properly. You seem braver now that you're on the ground with your lackeys, Draco." Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly. Harry looked up at Malfoy, who was scowling. He walked over until he was face to face with Harry.
"I can take you on myself anytime, Potter. Tonight, if you want? We'll duel it out!" At this, Harry smirked. Malfoy had stepped in it now. Harry had been dueling with his Father since he was little.
"Excellent, I accept. What shall it be, swords, guns, cannons, oh, I know, knives in close quarters!" Harry flicked his wrist at this, and from up his sleeve popped the dagger Wednesday had given him. He'd used the blade to prepare potion ingredients and had yet to provide it with its first taste of blood. Malfoy's eyes boggled, and the blood drained from his already pale face, making him look almost blue in comparison.
"Are you mad, Potter? We're not savage Muggles! I mean, a Wizard's duel with our wands!" He tried to make a defiant face, but his eyes were trained on the shining tip of Harry's blade. Harry shrugged and sheathed his knife.
"Very well, when and where? Ron will second me." Ron stood in solidarity with Harry but with slight trepidation.
"Fine, Crabbe will be my second. Tonight, at Midnight, in the old trophy room!" Malfoy and his goons stormed off. Harry sat down to continue his breakfast. Ron sat beside him and looked worried.
"You're mental, pulling that knife on Malfoy! He's sure to tell Snape about it!"
"And risk Snape finding out about our duel? I don't think so." Harry asked Ron about the basics of Wizard dueling.
"Well, first, you face each other and bow; that's respect to your opponent. Then, you each start casting spells at each other. Neither of you has learned advanced magic yet, so it won't be a proper duel, with mostly minor jinxes and charms." Harry was somewhat reassured at this. He'd learned several spells in class, and from the books, he'd bought Nothing that would cause lasting damage, but it would give him an edge against Malfoy. Hermione walked over to the two of them, her face stern.
"I couldn't help but overhear your little conversation. Have you lost your mind? Dueling at Midnight! Wandering the castle at night is against the rules; you'll lose Gryffindor many points if caught!"
"Then we'll have to ensure we don't get caught!" Ron snapped and shooed her away. Hermione left, muttering that Harry and Ron were idiots, sure to get themselves in trouble.