Hunted AIAOY 3

Chapter 11

Two days later, Ron and Hermione were still at odds.  Harry and Rebecca had managed to stay neutral, though nothing lasts.  Classes had finished for the week and students leaving for the holidays were spending their last night in the castle when Neville waved them over.

"A parcel, Harry."

Harry sighed.  "I don't get anything, Neville.  It's just Harry, Harold is the sixth year."

Neville shook his head.  "No, this one's for you."  He handed Harry the long, thin paper-packed parcel he'd been holding and looked across the emptying common room as Dean shouted for him at the door.

Peeves had, at Dean's passing on, caught a first year in one of the suits of armor nearby and instead of needing help, there was now an eleven year old in battle armor running about for the poltergeist.

"Well, open it!"  Ron sighed, leaning forward with his curiosity peaked.  Harry was right, he didn't receive parcels solely addressed to him.  Molly and Arthur included him in their mailings of sweets and letters, but Harry never got anything directly.

Rebecca sat forward too, apprehensive.  There had been another Sirius Black sighting in Hogsmeade and the fact that she was leaving Harry was gnawing at her.  "From who?"

"Whom."  Hermione corrected, looking it over with the same question in mind.

Harry shrugged, fumbling with the ties at the top and the bottom and discarding the paper without care.  Rebecca stood up and looked through it, not finding a tag as Ron gawked openly.

"That's...that's a-that's a-"

"It's a Firebolt."  Harry said stunned.  He looked to Rebecca, holding it gently.  He'd been stuck practicing on the dingy school loaners, refusing Rebecca's offer of letting him use hers.  "It's a Firebolt!"

"There's no note."  Rebecca said, apprehension creeping over her.  

"So?  After my Nimbus...We have a chance at winning now!"  Harry's excitement only seemed to grow within him as he thought about Oliver's face when they told him what had come.

Hermione stepped forward to speak, but Rebecca did first.  "Harry, there's no note.  We don't know where, or whom, it came from."  She waited for him to make the connection himself, but he only stared at her.  

Hermione spoke calmly, pleading that this could blow over without issue before the others left.  "For all we know, it could be a trap from Sirius Black."

"Paranoid, aren't you?"  Ron scoffed.  "Can't just let Harry enjoy something?"  

Ron continued to needle into Hermione while Rebecca tried to reason with Harry, to make him see sense.  "Hermione's entirely right.  Why don't we ask McGonagall?  She both wants to win and keep you safe so-"

"Rebecca!"  Harry interrupted loudly.  "Listen to yourself!  Ron's right, you both sound paranoid."

Rebecca scowled.  "If caring about you, not wanting you to do something stupid, makes me paranoid, then I guess I am.  Don't ride the broom.  Please."  She was quiet a moment, stunned.  "You do see that you shouldn't, right?"

Harry's face set in defiance.  "No."

"No?"  Rebecca repeated.  

"No."  Harry stood taller, glaring at Rebecca.  "You don't get to tell me what to do.  Not now, not ever.  You know, I don't know why people wish for a twin.  They're just annoying."

Ron followed Harry's stomping-march up to their dorm, the Firebolt still in Harry's hands.  Fred and George noted the broom, but only barely.  Both boys looked furious and that was entirely out of place so close to the beginning of the holidays.