Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Thirty-Three: A New(ish) Possibility

As we entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey, and the Black Lake like chilled steel. Every morning, the ground was covered in frost, and Hagrid could often be seen from the upstairs windows, defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

After the first week, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had to give up on our research. We'd drawn a complete blank, plus Harry was being made to do a ridiculous amount of last-minute Quidditch practice, as the Quidditch season had now begun. The following Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first ever match after weeks of training — Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If we won, we'd move up into second place in the House Championship.

To say that Oliver Wood, the captain and Keeper of the team, was obsessed with winning the Quidditch Cup would be possibly the biggest understatement anyone had ever made in the whole of human history. From what Harry had told the three of us, it seemed to be all the older boy wanted in life. Thus, the unnecessary amount of practice sessions he was making the team have.

Wood had decided that, as the team's secret weapon, Harry should be kept — well, secret. But the news that Harry was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, so our first full week of November was mostly made up of people interrupting whatever we were doing to tell Harry either that he'd be great, or that they'd be running around underneath him, holding a mattress.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since the mountain troll incident. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match, the four of us were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and Hermione had conjured us up a bright blue fire, which could be carried around in a jam jar. We were standing with our backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the courtyard. He'd been limping ever since Halloween, and today was no different.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I moved closer together to block the fire from view; I was sure that it wouldn't be allowed, and it seemed they thought the same. Unfortunately, something about the others' guilty faces caught Snape's eye, and he limped over. He didn't seem to have seen the fire, but I could tell he was looking for a reason to tell us off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was Quidditch Through the Ages, which Hermione and I had both practically forced Harry into checking out of the library. He showed it to Snape.

"Library books are not to be taken outside of the school," Snape said. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

I thought about saying that actually, under the library guidelines first written in 1912, and still upheld by Madam Pince, school books were allowed to be carried around the entirety of the castle and its grounds. In fact, you were even allowed to take them home for the holidays so long as you let the librarian know that was what you were doing, and returned them after that holiday. But then I thought of what Snape might say to such a comment — what Father might say if he found out — and I kept quiet.

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily, as Snape limped away. Then, not for the first time, he said, "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," Ron said bitterly.

***

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat together next to one of the windows, having managed to get there before most of the others had arrived. Window seats, along with the armchairs by the fire, were the favourites of the majority of the Gryffindors, and as such, required you to be fast in order to grab them.