Moments in Love

A Light in the Dark: Part 2

Christmas Day was a dismal affair for the most part, though Harry and Hermione tried to make the best of things. Ron shot them both dirty looks all through breakfast, and they noticed that he barely touched his food.

Harry was furious at Ron for scaring Hermione out of her wits and unfairly blaming her cat, but he couldn't help feeling twinges of guilt about the possible role of Hedwig in Scabbers apparent demise. Despite Ron's frequent complaints about Scabbers being boring and useless, Harry knew that he had been very attached to the rodent.

Harry kept trying to tell himself that Hedwig had nothing to do with Scabbers disappearance, and anyway, there was something very weird about that rat being so ancient, but his doubts kept niggling. Though judging from the vicious glares Ron kept giving Hermione, it was obvious that he continued to believe that Crookshanks was the most likely culprit to have eaten Scabbers.

Or was it because Hermione agreed with Harry that the Firebolt should be turned over to McGonagall for a thorough inspection? Harry was still shocked that Ron had taken the whole thing so personally. Ron had been furious even before Scabbers had gone missing.

"I don't understand Hermione, why is Ron so cross with me about the Firebolt?" asked Harry as they carried the sleek glossy new broomstick, not a twig out of place, to McGonagall's office.

"I... I'm really not sure Harry - it might be because he's jealous," Hermione replied, biting her lip pensively. "He's never had a new broom all of his own... and... and I think he was at least hoping to get a ride on yours."

"Yeah... I bet he'd love being hurled to his death from 50 feet up by a cursed broom like I almost was in First Year!" Harry muttered darkly as he knocked on McGonagall's office door.

"Well Potter - this is a surprise!" said McGonagall when she answered. "You're lucky I was still here. I was just about to pop down to the Three Broomsticks... Speaking of broomsticks, shouldn't you be giving that new one in your hand a spin? The match against Ravenclaw isn't that far off..."

"That's just it Professor..." Harry nervously began as Hermione shuffled beside him. "This broom - I didn't buy it! I couldn't really afford this one even if I wanted to... it's the Firebolt! And someone sent it to me with no card or note... nothing. I... er... I think it might have been sent by..."

"...Sirius Black!" gasped the professor, her face paling in immediate understanding.

McGonagall gingerly took the shiny world-class racing-broom from Harry's grasp and examined it with an almost loving caress. With Potter on this broom, she and Wood were almost guaranteed another trophy - anyone would be tempted to take it for an immediate ride. And given Potter's own love of flying, she was very fortunate that he was still standing...

"I... I must say... I'm very impressed with you Mr Potter! Bringing this straight to me like this - if you hadn't..." McGonagall swallowed uncomfortably.

"Well... let me just say that I'm very pleased that you're sensible enough to know that some things simply aren't worth risking your life for!" McGonagall peered at Harry knowingly, then slid her eyes over for a sidelong look at Hermione. "Though I suppose other things are!" she concluded.

Harry gulped and Hermione turned crimson. Professor McGonagall's lips curled up at the corner slightly.

"Go on then you two," the oft strict professor said gently, her features softening. "It's Christmas - loosen up a bit - let your hair down - have some fun. I'll take this broom to Madam Hooch and Flitwick - and with any luck we'll have this back in time for you to flatten Ravenclaw on it, Potter!"

Neither Harry or Hermione were eager to return to the Gryffindor Common Room, where Ron was likely to be sulking. And not even Hermione was inclined to spend Christmas Day in the library. They decided to take a walk outside, and were glad that they had when they both felt their moods lift.