Another Hogwarts Tale

Lucy never dreamed that she would ever come across a boy she hated more than Dudley - until she met Draco Malfoy.

At times, when Malfoy was back in the common room talking about how great his life was, she wished she was in another house.

The young witch was even a little jealous of her brother for not having to put up with Malfoy every day.

But then one day, they noticed a note on their lounge bulletin board.

The flying lessons would start on Thursday.

Ophelia was really excited, and Lucy was happy too. The black-haired girl was never on a broom but was excited.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

Harry had looked forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

"You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that’s all talk."

Indeed, Malfoy talked a great deal about flying.

He complained loudly that the first years never made it onto one of the Quidditch teams.

However, he wasn't the only one:

Ophelia told Lucy and Louisa that she was allowed to fly around the garden on her Dad's broomstick.

Anyway, Seamus Finnigan hinted that he spent most of his childhood cruising the country on a broomstick.

Even Ron told anyone who would listen about the time he almost crashed into a hang glider on Charlie's old broomstick.

All students from wizarding families talked about Quidditch all the time.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one

The others quietly agreed. Neville even managed to sustain an amazing number of accidents with both feet planted firmly on the ground.

Almost as nervous as Neville about flying was Hermione Granger.

Flying was something you couldn't memorize from a book- not that she hadn't tried.

At breakfast Thursday morning, she bored everyone with silly flying tips she'd found in a library volume called Quidditch Through the Ages.

Neville hung on her every word, eager for anything that might help him stay on the broom later, but everyone else was relieved when the arrival of the post interrupted Hermione's lecture.

The twins hadn't received a single letter since Hagrid's invitation, which of course Malfoy had quickly noticed.

Malfoy's owl always brought him packages of sweets from home, which he happily unwrapped at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother.

Excitedly, he opened it and showed the others a glass sphere that resembled a large marble and was apparently filled with white smoke.

"It’s a Remembrall!", he explained. "Gran knows I forget things — this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red — oh…"

His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "… you’ve forgotten something…"

Neville was just trying to remember what he had forgotten when Draco Malfoy walked past the Gryffindor table and snatched the reminder from his hand.

Harry, Lucy, Ron and Ophelia jumped up.

They secretly hoped to find a reason to fight Malfoy.

But Professor McGonagall, who sensed trouble sooner than any other teacher in the school, was already in front of them.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy’s got my Remembrall, Professor."

With a glare, Malfoy quickly dropped the reminder back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and trotted off with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

~~

At three thirty that afternoon, Lucy, Stella, Louisa and Ophelia gathered with the others on the castle grounds.

There the first flight lesson should take place.

It was a clear, a little windy, and the grass rippled under their feet as they walked down the gently sloping slope to a flat patch of lawn on the far side of the forbidden forest, whose trees swayed darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks, neatly lined up on the floor.

Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley mocking the school brooms.

Some of these would vibrate if you flew too high, or spin to the left.

Now Madam Hooch, her teacher, appeared.

She had short grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?", she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Lucy looked down at her broom.

It was an old model and some of the twigs were spread out all over the place.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say ‘Up!’"

Lucy tried to focus on the broom.

She held out her hand.

"Up!"

Lucy's broom didn't budge.

"Yeah..." she heard a voice next to her.

She looked at Ophelia and saw that she now held the broom in her hand.

Lucy tried again and this time the broom flew into her hand. She smiled and looked at her classmates.

Her brother also held his brooms in his hands.

Stella Barnes on the other hand had more problems.

Ophelia looked at the blue-haired Slytherin and decided to help her. Stella gratefully accepted the help.

Hermione Granger's broom had just rolled over on the floor and Neville's hadn't stirred at all.

There was a tremor in Neville's voice that said all too clearly that he preferred to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch now showed them how to mount the broomsticks without slipping off the back and walked down the rows to check their grips.

Lucy bit back a laugh as she explained to Malfoy that he had been doing it wrong all these years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle– three– two–"

Neville, however, nervous and excited and afraid of being left on the ground, gathered all his strength and pushed himself off the ground before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she called.

But Neville shot up in the air like a cork in a champagne bottle- four meters- twenty feet.

Lucy saw his terrified face look down at the receding floor, saw him gasp, slide sideways off the broomstick and–

BOOM

A thud and an ugly crack and Neville, a misshapen bundle, was face down on the grass.

His broom kept rising and gradually floated over to the forbidden forest, where it disappeared.

Madam Hooch bent over Neville, her face as pale as his.

"Broken wrist," Lucy heard her murmur.

Lucy drew in a sharp breath.

"Poor guy," Louisa whispered.

"Come on boy, it's all right, get up," said Madame Hootch.

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear."

Neville, tears streaming down his face, clutched his wrist and limped away with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

As soon as they were out of sight, Malfoy burst out laughing.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

Most of the other Slytherins joined in his laughter.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil said sharply.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl.

"Never thought you’d like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

Lucy took a step towards the other Slytherins.

"Malfoy, just shut up."

Stella grabbed Lucy's arm and pulled her back. The Slytherins laughed again.

"Look," said Malfoy, leaping and pecking something out of the grass.

"That stupid thing Longbottom's grandma sent him."

He held the reminder up and it shimmered in the sun.

"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry said calmly.

All fell silent at once and turned their eyes to the two.

Malfoy grinned.

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?”

"Give it here!" Harry yelled.

But Malfoy had hopped on his broomstick and taken to the skies.

He hadn't lied - he could fly.

From the top boughs of an oak tree called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

“No!” shouted Hermione Granger. “Madam Hooch told us not to move– you’ll get us all into trouble.”

Harry ignored her. Blood pounded in his ears.

"Harry, think about it," Lucy tried now.

He had heard his sister. He looked at her for a moment and seemed really thinking about it.

And chose not to listen to his friends or his twin.

He sat on the broomstick and launched himself off the ground, shooting up, hair blowing, cloak flapping in the air.

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest.

He pulled on his broomstick a little so he could carry it higher.

Harry jerked the broom sharply to set Malfoy in mid-air. Malfoy looked surprised.

"Give it here," Harry shouted, "or I'll throw you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?", said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

For some reason, Harry knew what to do.

Leaning forward, he gripped the broomstick firmly in both hands and launched it at Malfoy like a spear.

Malfoy managed to dodge just in time.

Harry swerved and held the broomstick straight.

On the floor below, a few students clapped their hands.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have occurred to Malfoy as well.

"Catch it if you can, then!", he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

As if in slow motion, Harry saw the ball rise and then fall faster and faster.

He leaned forward and pushed his broomstick down.

The next moment he was in a steep descent, faster and faster after the ball.

Lucy saw Harry hold out his hand.

She could hardly look, but she couldn't avert her eyes either.

Barely two feet off the ground, Harry caught the Remembrall.

Just in time to level his broomstick and, the Remembrall firmly in his fist, he landed softly on the grass.

The others ran towards him.

"That was really cool," Lucy said, as she stopped in front of him.

Lucy und Harry smiled at each other, tapped their own left shoulder and fist bumped.

Then she slapped his arm and pointed a finger at him.

"But it was also bloody dangerous. So don't ever do that again."

Harry just nodded. He knew he'd rather not argue with Lucy.

"HARRY POTTER!"

His heart sank much faster than it had just taken for his flight from the airy heights back to earth.

"Never, in all my time at Hogwarts–"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with horror and her glasses sparkled angrily.

"– how dare you– might have broken your neck–"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil!"

"But Malfoy–" Ron tried now.

"Enough, Mr Weasley. Mr. Potter, follow me, now."

"Professor, please," Lucy wanted to clarify the situation.

"Miss Potter, do you want detention?" Professor McGonagall replied.

Lucy shook her head and had to watch as her brother went into the castle with their teacher.

Would you throw Harry out now? No, they are not allowed to. Harry couldn't just be kicked out like that.

Lucy's thoughts were interrupted when Madame Hooch re-joined them.

"Ok, moving on. Where is Mr. Potter?"

"He had to go with Professor McGonagall," Lucy replied.

She nodded and went on with the lesson without asking any more questions.

~~

"You are joking."

They were at dinner.

Harry had just told them what had happened after he went to the castle with Professor McGonagall.

Lucy was glad Harry wasn't expelled from school and was happy that he was now on the Quidditch team.

Ron had a piece of steak-and-kidney pie halfway in his mouth, but he completely forgot about it.

"Seeker?", Ophelia said. "But first years never– you must be the youngest house player in about–"

"- a century," Harry said, scooping pie into his mouth.

After the excitement of the afternoon, he was particularly hungry. "Wood told me."

Ron and Ophelia were so impressed and excited that they just looked at Harry.

"I'll start training next week," Harry said. "But don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

"Professor McGonagall also said that our fathers were on the Quidditch team. Both of them", he told Lucy.

"Really?" she asked, and Harry nodded.

"They were in different houses, but–"

"Likes us–"

Fred and George came into the hall now, saw Harry and quickly ran to him.

"Well done," said George in a low voice, "Wood told us. We're on the team too– Beaters."

"You're on the Quidditch team?" Lucy asked.

"Yeah, but that... that's no big deal," Fred said.

“I tell you, we’re going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year,” said George. “We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.”

"Anyway, we’ve got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it’s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week."

No sooner had Fred and George gone than someone far less welcome appeared:

Malfoy flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?”

“You’re a lot braver now that you’re back on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly.

Of course, there was nothing small about Crabbe and Goyle at all, but with the High Table occupied by teachers, none of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I’d take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only– no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course," he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I’m his second, who’s yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked."

When Malfoy was gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.

"What is a wizard duel?" Lucy and Harry asked.

"And what do you mean, you're my second?"

Well, a second’s there to take over if you die", said Ron nonchalantly, finally digging into his cold pie.

"What?" Lucy said, shocked.

Ron looked up and, noticing the expressions on Lucy's and Harry's, quickly added:

“But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”

“And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”

"Then throw it away and smack Malfoy on the nose," Ophelia suggested rather sarcastically.

"What did we say about 'using sarcasm at friends'?" Lucy asked, looking at her friend with a raised eyebrow.

Ophelia gave Lucy a "You're the same" look, but before she could reply, the conversation was cut off.

"Excuse me."

All four looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a human eat in peace?" said Ron.

"Ron," Lucy said, looking at Ron disapprovingly. He shouldn't be so mean to Hermione.

Hermione hadn't hurt him, and he had no reason to be mean.

Ok... sometimes she was know-it-all, but that wasn't a good reason to be mean.

Hermione ignored him and turned to Harry.

"I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying–"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered. "– and you mustn’t go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you."

"And it’s really none of your business," said Harry.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

"Don't be so mean," Lucy said as Hermione sat back down.

~~

"And are you going to the wizard duel?", Stella asked in a low voice when it was time to go to bed.

Lucy looked at her and nodded.

"I can hardly leave the two idiots to a duel alone, right?", Lucy replied.

"I hope you realize that it's probably a trap and that Malfoy is lying peacefully in his bed while you get in trouble?", the blue-haired girl suggested.

"And that's exactly why the two idiots need someone to take care of them."

"Does that have to be you?", Stella wanted to know. She sat on her bed and ate a chocolate frog.

"No, but until then I'll take care of it."

It was eleven-thirty quicker than expected.

Lucy put on her robe, grabbed her wand and crept through the room, and into the Slytherin common room.

A few logs still glowed in the hearth, turning the chairs into squat black shadows.

~~

At the same time Harry and Ron almost reached the portrait when a voice spoke to them from very close range:

"I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry."

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink robe and a deep worry line on her forehead.

"You!" said Ron angrily. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy — he’s a prefect, he’d put a stop to this."

Harry couldn't believe that someone would interfere in such an outrageous way.

"Come on," he said to Ron and his sister. He pushed the fat lady's portrait aside and climbed through the hole.

However, Hermione didn't give up that easily. She followed Ron through the hole behind the picture, hissing like an angry goose.

"Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so–"

But they never knew what they were.

Hermione had turned to return to the fat lady's portrait, but the picture was blank.

The Fat Lady had gone out on a late-night visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That’s your problem," said Ron. "We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the hallway when Hermione caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are not."

“D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up.”

"You’ve got some nerve–", said Ron loudly.

"Shut up, both of you!", said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

It sounded like a sniff.

"Mrs Norris?" Ron whispered, peering through the darkness.

It wasn't Mrs Norris.

It was Neville.

He was curled up on the floor, asleep, but woke with a start as they approached.

"Thank goodness you found me! I’ve been out here for hours; I couldn’t remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Why didn't you ask a teacher? It's freezing here in the corridors."

"I… I didn't even think of that."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password’s ‘Pig snout’ but it won’t help you now, the Fat Lady’s gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" Harry asked.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good– well, look, Neville, we’ve got to be somewhere, we’ll see you later–"

"Don't leave me!" Neville yelled, scrambling to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron checked his watch and then glared at Hermione and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I’ll never rest until I’ve learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to explain to Ron exactly how the curse of the goblins worked, but with a hiss, silenced Harry and shooed them all on.

They scurried down corridors where the moon threw streaks of light through the tall windows.

Around every corner, Harry expected them to meet Filch or Mrs Norris, but they were lucky. They ran up a flight of stairs to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet.

The crystal glass display cases shimmered in the moonlight.

Goblets, plates, and statues twinkled silver and gold through the darkness.

They quietly pushed themselves along the walls, keeping an eye on the doors on either side of the room.

Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy jumped in and got started right away.

Then someone opened the door and Harry raised his wand. He realized in time that it wasn't Malfoy, but his sister.

"Lucy? What are you doing here?"

"One has to look after you and Ron," Lucy replied.

The young witch noticed Nevil and Hermione and in turn asked why they were there. Nevil had nothing to do with this and Hermione disapproved of the whole thing.

Harry replied, "Long story," and Lucy left it at that.

The minutes ticked by.

"He’s late, maybe he’s chickened out," whispered Ron.

"Or he never intended to come."

A noise in the next room startled them. Harry had just raised his wand when they heard someone speaking- and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris.

Harry, terrified, flailed his arms wildly for the others to follow him as quickly as possible. They groped their way to the door leading away from Filch's voice.

No sooner had Neville's robes whisked around the corner than they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him murmur, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry motioned to the others, and with limbs rigid in horror they crept down an endless gallery of armour.

They could hear Filch approaching.

Neville suddenly let out a scared squeak and ran, he tripped, clutching his arms around Ron's waist and they both fell into the middle of a piece of armor.

The ringing and clinking was enough to wake up the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry shouted, and the five sped down the gallery, not looking to see if Filch was following.

They swung around a doorpost and ran down a hallway and then another, led by Harry, who had no idea where they were or heading.

Eventually, they tore through a tapestry and found themselves in a secret passage.

Still running, they emerged near the classroom where they had Charms, which they knew was miles away from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Harry breathed out, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville had collapsed, whistling and spluttering.

"We- told- you," Hermione gasped, grabbing her side where she felt a pang and pointing at herself and Lucy with the other hand, "we- told- you- so."

"We need to get back to Gryffindor Tower," said Ron, "as soon as possible."

"Lucy was right in her assumption. Malfoy set you up," Hermione said to Harry

"You realize that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you– Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

You're probably right, Harry thought, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

Lucy already knew it without him having to say it out loud.

"Let's go."

Of course, it wasn't that easy.

After barely a dozen steps, a doorknob rattled, and a figure darted out of a classroom.

It was Peeves.

He noticed her and gave a squeak of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves– please– you’ll get us thrown out"

Peeves cackled.

“Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.”

“Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.”

“Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your own good, you know.”

"Out of the way," Ron snapped, lashing out at him which was a big mistake.

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed, “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!”

They ducked under Peeves and ran for their lives to the end of the hall, where they slammed into a door - and it was locked.

"This is it," Ron moaned as they desperately tried to force open the door. "We’re done for! This is the end!"

They heard footsteps. Filch ran as fast as he could after the calls from Peeves.

"Oh, move over," Hermione hissed.

She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped on the door lock and whispered, "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open- they all rushed through at once, quickly locking it behind them and pressing their ears to listen.

“Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.”

“Say ‘please.’”

“Don’t mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?”

"Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please," Peeves replied in an annoying singsong voice.

"All right - please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!"

And they heard Peeves rush away and Filch swear furiously.

"He thinks that door is locked," Harry whispered, "I think we’ll be okay– get off, Neville!"

Because Neville had been tugging at Harry's sleeve.

"What?"

Harry turned and saw, quite clearly, what.

For a moment he thought he'd slipped into a nightmare- it was just too much after what had happened so far.

They weren't in the same room as he had thought.

They were in a corridor.

In the forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they also knew why it was forbidden

They looked straight into the eyes of a monster of a dog, a dog that occupied all the space between the ceiling and the floor.

He had three heads.

Three pairs of rolling mad eyes; three noses twitching and quivering in her direction; three drooling mouths with saliva hanging in slippery threads from yellowish fangs.

He stood very still, all six eyes on them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was their sudden appearance, which surprised him.

But he was getting over that quickly now, for it was clear what that rumble of thunder meant.

Harry reached for the doorknob- if he had to choose between Filch and death, he'd take Filch.

They walked backwards. Harry slammed the door behind them, and they ran, almost flew, back down the hall.

Filch was nowhere to be seen, he must have rushed off to look for them elsewhere, but she didn't care.

All they wanted was to outrun the monster as far as possible. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the fat lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, taking in their robes hanging from their shoulders and their flushed, sweating faces.

"Never mind that– pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, the portrait swinging sideways.

They crowded into the lounge and collapsed into the chairs, trembling.

It was a while before either of them said a word.

Neville actually looked like he would never open his mouth again.

“What do they think they’re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?” said Ron finally. “If any dog needs exercise, that one does.”

Hermione had now caught her breath and regained her bad mood.

You don’t use your eyes, any of you, do you?” she snapped. “Didn’t you see what it was standing on

"The floor?" was Harry's contribution to the question. "I wasn’t looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It’s obviously guarding something."

She got up and looked at her indignantly.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed– or worse, expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”

Lucy, who hadn't yet felt the need to speak again, looked at Hermione in confusion.

She wondered how anyone could find being expelled from school worse than dying.

Lucy didn't want any of that. But, she thought, she'd rather live and not be allowed to do magic. The black-haired girl still had many plans, and she could only pursue them alive.

She wished her brother and Ron good night and crept back to the Slytherin common room.