Grindelwald's Burden (Books 1-7)

38. The Patronus

Harry knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn't stop him from being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didn't know whether he would ever see it again. He was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state would it be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests?

Ron was furious with Hermione too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Y/n had been showing in it less since the Christmas argument himself as well. While he remained on fine terms with Harry he found Ron's behaviour to be childish. Harry and Ron supposed they had taken refuge in the library and didn't try to persuade either to come back. All in all, they were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again. Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started.

"Had a good Christmas?" he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, "I've been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one...I mean... we can't afford you to... well..." Wood broke off, looking awkward.

"I'm working on it." said Harry quickly. "Professor Lupin said he'd let me join in on lessons with Y/n to ward off the Dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he'd have time after Christmas."

"Ah." said Wood, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case...I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"

"No." said Harry.

"What! You'd better get a move on, you know, you can't ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!"

"He got a Firebolt for Christmas." said Ron.

"A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A...a real Firebolt?"

"Don't get excited, Oliver." said Harry gloomily. "I haven't got it anymore. It was confiscated." And he explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.

"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?"

"Sirius Black." Harry said wearily. "He's supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it. "

Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Wood said, "But Black couldn't have bought a Firebolt! He's on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?"

"I know." said Harry. "But McGonagall still wants to strip it down..."

Wood went pale. "I'll go and talk to her, Harry." he promised. "I'll make her see reason... A Firebolt... a real Firebolt, on our team ... She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do... I'll make her see sense. A Firebolt...."

Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun. Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life line she had ever seen.

It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that Y/n was keen to get to. Now that Christmas was over he wanted to get started on his and Harry's anti-Dementor lessons with Lupin as soon as possible.