A Potter Secret

Trolls

Outside, day time. Oliver and Harry appear, carrying a trunk. They put it down. "Quidditch is easy enough to understand. Each time has seven players, three chasers, two beaters, one keeper and a seeker that's you. There are three kinds of balls." Oliver picks up a red one. "This one's called the Quaffle. Now, the chasers handle the Quaffle and try to put it through one of those three hoops." Oliver points to a faraway Quidditch pitch. "The keeper, that's me, defends the hoops." He tosses the ball to Harry. "With me so far?"

Harry throws it back. "I think so. What are those?" Harry demands, pointing to two squirming chained down balls.

"You better take this," Oliver says, handing Harry a small bat. He bends down and releases one ball. With an angry growl, it flies off into the air. The two boys watch it. "Careful now, it's comin' back." The balls comes whizzing down, and Harry cracks at it with the bat. The ball soars off through a statue. "Eh, not bad, Potter, you'd make a fair beater Uh-oh." The ball zooms down, and Oliver grabs it, wriggling to get it back in the box. He succeeds and is out of breath. "Bludger. Nasty little buggers. But the only ball I want you to worry about is this the Golden Snitch." Oliver hands Harry a walnut sized golden ball.

"I like this ball," Harry smiles.

"Ah, you like it now. Just wait. It's wicked fast and damn near impossible to see," Oliver replies.

"What do I do with it?" Harry asks.

"You catch it before the other team's seeker. You catch this, the game is over. You catch this, Potter, and we win.

The ball flutters out two delicate wings and jumps into the air. Harry keeps an eye on it. "Whoa."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Professor Flitwick's class. The teacher is very short, and is standing on a bunch of books. "One of a wizard's most rudimentary skills is levitation the ability to make objects fly. Uh, do you all have your feathers?" Hermione raises hers. "Good. Now, uh, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing, hmm? The swish and flick. Everyone. The swish and flick. Good. And enunciate. Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go then," Flitwick instructs.

"Wingardium Levio-saaa," Draco tries.

"Wingardrium Leviosar," Ron says before he whacks the feather with his wand numerous times.

"Stop, stop, stop. You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Leviosa, not Leviosar," Hermione says.

"You do it then if you're so clever. Go on, go on," Ron replies.

Hermione straightens up and swishes her wand. Hermione crisply says. "Wingardium Leviosa." The feather glows and lifts up. Ron puts his head on his books dejectedly.

"Oh, well done! See here, everyone! Ms. Granger's done it! Oh, splendid!" Flitwick says.

Seamus begins swishing at his feather. "Wingard Levosa. Wingard Levosa," Seamus repeats.

"Well done, dear," Flitwick congratulates. BOOOM!!! Seamus' feather explodes. Flitwick gasps. "Whooaaa! Ooh."

"I think we're going to need another feather over here, Professor," Harry mumbles as the feather slowly glides to the ground.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Neville, Harry, Ron and Seamus are walking through a courtyard with other students all around. "It's Leviosa, not Leviosar. Honestly, she's a nightmare. No wonder she hasn't got any friends!" Ron calls.

Hermione bustles past, sniffling. "I think she heard you," Harry mumbles.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~