BLACK {1} harry potter

Chapter Nine

"You're joking," Ron stuttered, eyes wide. 

In the mix of things, Harry and I hadn't spoken to anyone after the flying lesson. It was already dinner when we finally told Ron the news. A bite of steak and kidney pie was sliding off of his fork as he stared at us in awe. "You're the new Seeker and Chaser? But first years never--you must be the youngest House players in about--"

"-- a century," Harry and I chimed in. I shoved a giant brownie into my mouth, particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told us," I muttered with my mouth full.

Ron continued to sit there and gape at us, bits of the pie hanging from his mouth.

"We start training next week, only don't tell anyone," Harry whispered--rather loudly, I might add. "Wood wants to keep it a secret."

"Well done." I turned at the voice, not noticing Fred and George were standing behind us until now. "Wood told us. We're on the team too. Beaters," George said.

Fred chimed in, "I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year. We haven't won since Charlie, our brother, left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good; Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

With that, George and Fred were replaced by someone extremely less pleasant: Malfoy and his pack of goons. "Having a last meal, are we? When are you getting on the train back to the Muggles," Malfoy snarked.

"You're a lot braver on the ground," I said cooly.

Harry continued, "when you've got your little friends around you." I gave a low giggle, though it was obvious that the only thing remotely little about Crabbe and Goyle was their attention span and brain capacity.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," Malfoy said. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel, wands only--no contact" He pointed at me. "Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"'Course he has, but Sarah can't duel; it be unfair for you," Ron called. "I'm his second, who's yours?" I furrowed my brows, right happy to say something to Ron about me sitting out. That was ,until I felt Harry's hand wrap around my own.

"Crabbe," Malfoy answered. "Midnight alright? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked." When Malfoy and his oversized five year olds left, Harry and I glanced at each other in confusion.

"What is a wizard's duel," asked Harry.

"Yeah, what did you sign him up for? And what do you mean, you're his second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," Ron casually said, shrugging as he reached for more kidney pie.

I grabbed him by the wrist. "Wait, Harry' s not going to die, right, Ron?" My voice was so dangerously low, almost unrecognizably so.

"Of course not," Ron waved me off. "People only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other.  Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"What if nothing happens when I wave my wand?"

"Throw it and punch him in the face," I shot out. Harry raised an eyebrow at me. I shrugged, "What? A girl can dream of Malfoy getting punched in the face, can't she?"