Spells in Silence

Chapter 42: Finding the Path

Hazel sighed within her own head as she allowed Sally-Anne to pull her into the crowd. With how many people were all headed in the same direction, she was glad she had stuck her staff into her bag for this trip or else she undoubtedly would have knocked at least a couple of people in the head. She pulled against Sally-Anne's grip on her left arm and spun her index finger. 'Where are we going, exactly?'

Sally-Anne gave her a wide smile. "It's the first Quidditch game of the season! Oh, this feels just like going to Ivanhoe games with Mum and Dad. Everyone is so excited!"

She was glad Sally-Anne was so happy, but neither her words nor the thoughts of the other students around her gave much of an explanation. 'And Quidditch is... what, exactly?'

That earned her an unconcerned shrug from Sally-Anne, but her friend was not the only person to read her question. "You don't know what Quidditch is?" asked Hannah Abbott, looking askance at her as they continued following the crowd. "How can anybody call herself a witch and not know about Quidditch? The Muggleborns I understand, but for the Girl-Who-Lived? Inconceivable. It's a game played on broomsticks. There are four positions, and the best are the Chasers..."

The second blonde girl's explanation lasted them the rest of the way to the large stadium sitting to the north of the castle, just a short distance away from the field where the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had their flying classes a couple of weeks after starting lessons at this school and not far at all from the gates that led to Hogsmeade. Six wide towers formed the walls of the stadium, and they climbed the tall staircase set within the tower that was covered in black and yellow curtains. Emerging once more into the light, Hazel looked around at the wooden bleachers placed beneath an overhanging awning that should keep out the rain but did little for the bright sunlight pouring in.

Soon enough, what seemed like every single Hufflepuff had settled into a spot on the bench, although while Sally-Anne and Hannah chatted about player statistics Hazel could not help but be distracted. As more and more people piled in, the edges of the box flickered now and again; not something she could see with her ordinary vision, but it was obvious when viewed through her fairy lens. Each time the flicker happened, she could swear that there were more seats than had been there before. Were the bleachers growing wider to make sure there was always enough space for everyone?

It was a distinct possibility, she decided. After all, her satchel always had extra space to hold new things within, and would this not be a similar process?

A white-haired witch soon marched out to the center of the pitch and took to the air on a flying broomstick. A witch Hazel recognized as Madam Hooch, the very person who had instructed the assembled Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws during their two flying lessons. She had been fair but strict and stern during their lessons, her thoughts providing the explanation that she wanted no horseplay after dealing with the joint Gryffindor and Slytherin class, when one boy had injured himself and two others had gotten detentions for having an airborne quarrel of some kind or another.

It meant their own lessons had been uneventful but still entertaining. Flight was not something Hazel had spent much time considering, not even after learning there was an entire society built around magic, and despite never using a broomstick for anything other than sweeping the floor she felt she might naturally have a bit of a knack for it. It probably helped that this was finally something else the wizards did that she felt could be considered appropriately 'witchy'.

Sadly, flying on her own broomstick was not in the cards for her, or at least not for a very long time. She had asked Madam Hooch how much one might cost, and the rough estimate the woman had given her for even the most basic model was staggering. She was not sure exactly what the conversion rate for wizard galleons and British pounds, but she suspected that it was roughly the cost of a car! She could justify stealing a number of things she needed; neither a broom nor the quantities of gold she would need to buy one honestly counted.