Not the Boy who lived

10. Halloween

The next morning I sent a sharp glare at Malfoy. He had challenged me to the duel and then snitched to get me and Ron in trouble. His shocked face was all the evidence I needed to know it was a set up. The urge to use a hex on him was strong. Maybe something that makes him dizzy or snort like a pig. Something unbecoming of the most proud and prickly Malfoy heir.

Last night's adventure while delightful was also too close for comfort. I released the air out my nose in aggravation. Too close.

"Did you see what that three-headed dog was guarding?" Ron asked. Last night I had told him about meeting fluffy and his mistreatment. The poor Cerberus had little room to move and no windows. How could anyone who loves animals ever submit that puppy to such confinement.

Hermione showed little interest in talking about the events of last night. She seemed to rather ignore it and pretend it didn't happen. Most likely it went completely against her rule following nature. Neville was much the same but only because his timid nature.

Hermione avoided directly talking about, with or near Ron in any way but would at times still talk to me. Asking questions about wizarding culture and books to borrow. I answered each question I could but I also warned her to not to correct other witches or wizards if they differed from the books. Reminding her that they were quite outdated and some families had changed their traditions or learned newer ones, some forgoing old traditions entirely to become muggle friendly. Which seemed wonderful in concept but ridiculous in practice. Samhain being replaced with candy and costumes.

The Dursley's never let me out during Halloween. Fearing it to be a devils holiday while also letting duddykins gorge himself on candy. Personally I think I'd much prefer Samhain. Tribute to magic and fires that go on all night. At midnight, a small glance into the veil to see past loved ones. Who wouldn't want that? Just a glimpse. Parents, sisters and brothers. Those lost too soon or long before our birth.

Ron was glaring fiercely at Malfoy while whispering ideas and insults under his breath. I should've been just as steamed to get him back but I was biding my time. I had learned early on that not every revenge had to be taken immediately. Doing so after you have been wronged only made you the obvious culprit.

The chance only arose a week later when a strange parcel was dropped off at the Gryffindor table. A long parcel that was given with a note not to open it at the table. My eyes turn to the Cheshire like transfigurations teacher. She tips her teacup and that is all the answer. I pass the note of to Ron and shush him and the two of us hurry out the hall.

But halfway out the entrance hall and up the stairs we are stopped by Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy. Malfoy tears it out of my hands and I move to take it back as quickly.

"That's a broomstick," he give a jealous expression, "you'll be in for it this time Potter! First years aren't allowed brooms."

Ron open his mouth unable to resist. "It's not any broomstick. It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got a home? A comet two sixty." Ron turns to me with a proud smile. I sigh under my breath but Ron continues. "Comets look flashy but they're not in the same league as a Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle." Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig." Malfoy taunts and I clench my fingers over the wand in my sleeve.

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow. "Not arguing. I hope, boys?" He squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, professor." Malfoy said quickly.

"Yes, yes that's right." Professor Flitwick beaming at me, "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. Potter, what model is it?"