in my blood

Chapter 7

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry, Ron and I were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by the next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one.

In the meantime, I filled Ron and Harry in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, Harry had sussed out exactly what I had. They spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry.

"Well, duh," I rolled my eyes.

But as all we knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, we didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again. I completely understood that though.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry, Ron or me, but Ron said she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. I didn't.

All we really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to our great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. We were just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and were amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of Harry, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first. He passed it to Ron and me.

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.

Professor McGonagall

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."

We left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before our first class, but halfway across the entrance hall we found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt 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."

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron 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," Draco snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron or I could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry.