𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓃𝑔. - golden trio era au

₂₀ ♙ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐠𝐬

♙

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐠𝐬

♙

The rest of the week had not been quite as disastrous as their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Other than when Ron's wand had flew out of his hand in Charms and hit poor Professor Flitwick in the face, and when Dawn turned up to their next class without her books once again, Lockhart, true to his word, gave her detention. 

On Saturday, they had decided they were going to visit Hagrid, as they hadn't had the chance yet. But when Dawn and Hermione were sat waiting in the common room, Ron came tumbling down, still groggy with sleep, and alone. 

"Where's Harry?" Hermione popped the question. 

"Huh? Oh, got a note saying he's at Quidditch practice." Ron mumbled. 

"Is Wood trying to kill them?" Dawn gaped. "Practice so early in the morning? They'd fall off their brooms!"

"Well, what are we waiting for?" said Hermione. "We should head down to the pitch and watch them practice, that way we can head to Hagrid's straight after." The two girls stood and began to leave, Ron being a bit slow on trying to keep up. 

When they got to the pitch after breakfast, however, it was empty except for a small figure in the stands. 

"Hey!" It was Colin Creevey, the first year that had been following Harry around like a little pest. "You're Harry's friends, aren't you?"

"Yes, Colin," sighed Ron exasperatedly, pulling on Dawn's arm to keep her from running away. "Where's the team?"

"In the changing rooms," said Colin, sounding rather breathless. "Hey, is it true that Harry -" But the three were already walking away to find seats. 

Twenty minutes later, the Gryffindor team finally emerged from the changing rooms, looking like they had fallen asleep in there. "Aren't you finished yet?" called Ron. 

"Haven't even started," Harry replied. "Wood's been teaching us new moves." He kicked off at last, looking more awake than ever. 

"Are Wood's tactics really necessary?" asked Hermione, looking up from Year with a Yeti. 

Ron looked at her incredulously. "Wood's tactics are fine! It's Quidditch!" 

Dawn and Hermione shared a look before going back to watching practice. Though, hardly minutes after they had taken to the skies, they were flying back down again, heading to a spot on the ground they couldn't see from their seats. They waited a few minutes before deciding to go see what was going on. 

"What's happening?" asked Ron as they stomped across the grass. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" The Slytherin team was standing on the pitch, shiny new brooms in hand and in amongst their green robes, was one Draco Malfoy, looking as smug as ever.

"I'm the new Slytherin seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team." Ron stared at the magnificent brooms with a gaping mouth. "Good aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them."

"Did Slytherin run out of any other options for Seeker, then?" said Dawn. Malfoy fixed her with a glare of utmost disgust.

"No one was asking for your input, you filthy little Mudblood." he spat.

The reaction was tremendous. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to defend him from Fred and George, someone shrieked and several wands were drawn, including Ron's who snarled, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" However, there was a long bang that echoed across the stadium and in a flash of green light, Ron was thrown back across the ground.