Voices in the walls

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Rigel was woken up at the crack of dawn the next day by Harry. Still half asleep, he rose and dressed for his first-ever quidditch practice as a member of the Gryffindor quidditch team. He ate a fast breakfast, slightly more awake and not wanting to be late and spurred on by Harry's prodding. Then the two of them plus Eliza joined the rest of the team and went down to the pitch for practice, carrying their brooms over their shoulders. The chest with the balls was already down in the equipment storage with the school brooms. About halfway down to the pitch, Colin Creevey, the one who wanted Harry and Eliza's autographs, joined them and started prattling on about seeing a broom fly for the first time and something else that wasn't very interesting. The rest of the team only gave the first-year odd looks and continued on their way.

As soon as they got onto the pitch, Colin left them to go sit in the stands and the Gryffindor team made their way to the center, having already retrieved the ball chest. Ron and Hermione, having come out to the pitch to watch the practice, sat in the stands a few feet away from Colin.

"Alright, everyone, gather round," Oliver said. "If we don't win the cup this year, we only have one more chance next year before I graduate. I'll be leaving, and there'll be a new captain, who I'm sure will do great and- Is that the Slytherin quidditch team!?"

True to his word, the Slytherin quidditch team was sauntering towards them over the grass, their brooms in hand. Having spotted them as well, Oliver marched up to them, meeting them halfway. Out of the corner of his eye, Rigel saw Ron, and Hermione rises from their seats in the stands and hastily make their way down.

"Flint!" Oliver said angrily, his brows furrowed. The rest of the Gryffindor team followed their captain over to the Slytherins. "What are you doing down here? I had the field reserved for the entire morning and I need to train my new chaser."

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker. "

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives —" sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

Eliza, Ron, and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team.

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