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Aurora Areli
WHEN HARRY, RON AND I entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, I had to try hard not to laugh. Malfoy was sitting with his usual posse at the Slytherin table, gawking at us as though he couldn't believe that we were still enrolled at school.
Harry looked at me questioningly, so I nodded my head in the direction of the blond-haired boy. At the sight, he and Ron exchanged smug looks.
I plopped down in the seat next to Harry as he explained to Ron and me about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and that he thought that was what the Cerberus was guarding.
"Why would it need that much protection though?" I asked as I buttered a piece of toast.
"Probably because it's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.
"Or both," said Harry.
I nodded, but was still unsure.
All we knew for certain was that Harry had seen that it was about two inches long, which didn't help us much. We needed more clues.
Hermione was walking past us along the Gryffindor table, so I tried to wave at her. However, instead of returning the gesture, she just pretended not to see me. I knew she was pretending because I was practically right in front of her. That meant she was now refusing to speak to me like with Harry and Ron.
I frowned, disheartened that she no longer wanted anything to do with me. There was a small pang in my chest, and I turned back to my plate in silence.
"I don't know why you're so bothered," Ron said when he noticed Hermione ignore me. "She's such a know-it-all, you should be happy she's finally left us alone."
I saw Harry frantically shake his head at Ron when he thought I wasn't looking, but I didn't care about that very much.
"She might be to you, but I happened to consider her a friend, Ronald," I informed him, huffing, before stabbing my toast with a knife.
I didn't know exactly why (it was probably the combination of sleep deprivation, sadness from Hermione not talking to me, and homesickness), but I felt my eyes fill with tears.
Not wanting to cry in front of them, I blinked rapidly, but to no avail.
"Are you crying?" said Ron, sounding shocked. He then turned to Harry, "What's she crying for?"
"I'm not," I said quickly, wiping my watery eyes.
Luckily, the boys didn't have time to say anything else because the mail arrived, and everybody's attention was caught by a long, thin package that was being carried by six large screech owls.
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When the package was dropped right in front of Harry with a loud thunk, I jumped about three feet in the air.
I watched as he snatched the letter that had landed on top of the package and opened it. His eyes widened and he passed the letter to me. It read:
DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.
It was signed by Professor McGonagall. I looked at Harry in surprise and slight disbelief, then handed the letter to Ron, who was eyeing us strangely.
"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron said enviously. "I've never even touched one."
"Let's go back to the dormitories to open it," Harry said.
We followed him out of the Great Hall, and were halfway across the entrance hall when I noticed the way upstairs was blocked by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy came up to Harry, seized the package from him, and ran his hands along it.
"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter. First years aren't allowed them."
"It's not any old broomstick," Ron said, unable to resist rubbing the news in Malfoy's face, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you have at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" He grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."
"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."
Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.
"Not arguing, I hope, boys," he squeaked. When I coughed, he added, "And girl."
"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy said quickly, obviously wanting Harry to get in trouble.
"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry. I bit my lip to hide a smile at the look of horror on Malfoy's face.
"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.
Harry, Ron and I passed Crabbe and Goyle on our way upstairs, smothering our laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.
"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as we reached the top of the marble staircase. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team . . ."
"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking the rules?" came an angry voice from just behind us. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, glaring at the package in Harry's hand.
"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.
"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."
I frowned, but didn't say anything as Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.
. . . . .
At dinner that evening, I watched in confusion as Harry scarfed down his food.
"Come on, Rory," he said as he and Ron got up from the table.
"Why?"
"We're going to open McGonagall's package," he explained, but quickly added, "You don't have to come if you don't want to."
