Gryffindor boy - Ron Weasley x male oc

14

The four exchange a glance when they detect a rustling and clinking sound as they begin to descend down the staircase.

"What is that?" Hermione questioned, wondering what could be making the sound.

"I don't know... sounds like wings." Harry said.

The quartet enters a brilliantly lit chamber where hundreds of jewel bright birds flutter below a high arching ceiling. On the opposite side is a heavy wooden door and, floating in the center of the chamber is a single broomstick.

Ron, Harper and Hermione begin to cross to the door, gazing in wonder at the strangely beautiful creatures overhead.

"Curious. I've never seen birds like these..." Harper said.

"They're not birds..." Harry said.

Ron, Harper and Hermione turn to see Harry standing by the floating broom in the center of the room, looking up.

"They're keys. And I'll bet one of them fits that door." Harry said.

Hermione decided to test the doorknob and nod. "Locked."

"Alohomora!" Harper turns and sees Ron waving his wand at the knob. Ron shrugs, looking at Harper and Hermione. "Well, it was worth a try."

"So what do we do? There must be a thousand keys up there..." Hermione said, peering up at the keys.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one..." Ron said, examining the lock. "Probably silver, like the handle."

"That one, with the bright blue wings!" Harper said, pointing at a key that Ron had described.

"What's wrong with its wing?" Hermione asked.

"The feather's pinched. Probably from Quirrell catching it before us." Ron said, not even faced by the weird looks he gained from Hermione.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned, looking at Harry who is still staring at the broom.

"It's... too simple." Harry said.

"Oh, go on, Harry. If Quirrell could catch it on that old CleanSweep, you can. It's not for nothing you're the youngest Seeker in a Century." Ron said, trying to bring Harry's confidence up.

Harry nods, still troubled, but slowly reaches out towards the broom. Right as his fingers touch the broom stick, the keys explode in a frenzy, hissing like wasps, swarming in great, glittering clouds as Ron's smile drops.

"Well, this complicates things a bit." Ron said, pulling Harper and Hermione closer so they won't get hurt from the keys.

As Harry kicks into the air, a seething cluster of keys falls like hard rain, chattering at his arms and legs, slicing at his skin, shredding his sweater.

"He'll be torn to pieces." Harper said, terrified for his friend, watching as Harry soared higher, fending off the keys with his free hand.

Through a mad clattering, cluster of keys, Harry spies the larger, silver one, fluttering only feet beyond his grasp.

Harry hovers, grimacing as the hissing keys drop like darts onto his extended hand, then snatches the silver key.

Instantly, Harry whips downward in a wide, dizzying circle, trying to outrun the now furious keys. They shadow his every move, drawing closer and closer, humming viciously as they begin to chip at the tail twigs of the broom. Desperate, Harry throws the broom into a reckless dive and, steering with one hand, flings the key to Ron.

As Ron dashes to the door, Harry soars back up, taking the raging keys with him, then circles back and watches Ron jam the key into the lock.

As Hermione, Harper and Ron scurry through, Harry rockets straight after, the keys gaining once again, chipping at the tail of broom like a buzzsaw through a balsa wood. As the broom begins to waffle, Harry gives one last burst of speed and soars through the open door. Together, Harper and Ron fling the door shut, just before the keys rain down like bullets.