More Important Than Any Broomstick [Harmione]

23. A Day of Firsts

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley" Dumbledore said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament..." He went on to explain what it was and how the death tolls caused it to be discontinued, but now the other schools had agreed to try again. Then he caused an uproar as he said, "...the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This..."

Shouts of, "This is rubbish," and many other similar sentiments could be heard for about a minute until something small flew into the Great Hall. It appeared to be a small, gray, feathery tennis ball. It flew straight toward Gryffindor table, toward where Harry was sitting with his friends, while everyone, even Dumbledore, watched with interest. As it flew closer, Harry could see that it was an owl, and it had a note tied to its leg.

It landed in front of Ginny Weasley, who hesitantly untied the note, saying, "I wonder who sent me this? It is a cute little owl though." As soon as she removed the note, the bird hooted enthusiastically, and flew what appeared to be a victory lap around the table, causing several chuckles, while Ginny read her note. Her expression turned from confusion to happiness as she put the note in her pocket.

"Who was it from? What did it say?" asked the ever inquisitive Hermione.

"It's from my parents," said Ginny. "They decided that they'd get me my own owl as a reward for how good I did in classes last year. This is it. Mum said he looked so eager she couldn't resist buying him." She then stuck out her hand and the tiny owl landed on her. "Hello, little owl. I'm you're new owner," she said as she stroked his feathers. "My name is Ginny. What should I call you?" she said as she looked into its eyes. "I know - Pigwidgeon! That's what your name is," she said, nodding her head at her owl.

"Pig-widgeon?" asked Harry, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Yes," said Ginny defiantly. "Pigwidgeon is a good name!"

"I agree," said Hermione, as Dumbledore finally continued with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Now that Miss Weasley has received her mail," causing her face to turn red as a few people, especially Slytherins, chuckled, "I believe it is time for bed. I know how important is for all of you to be well rested for tomorrow's lessons. Goodnight."

❾¾ ❾¾❾¾❾¾ ❾¾❾¾❾¾

Harry then turned to Hermione and kissed her cheek, "I want to talk to Dumbledore. You can go to the common room."

"If it's all the same to you, love, I'm going with you. This is about Mrs. Figg, isn't it?"

Harry nodded his head as they both walked toward the staff table. "Mrs. Figg," Harry called out in the friendliest voice he could. "How are you?"

"Er, Harry, I, I'm fine," she said, "and before you ask, Professor Dumbledore had me move to Privet Drive when he left you with the Dursleys. I told him how they treated you, but he said leaving you there was for the best, and he forbad me from telling you about the magical world or your part in it. I'm sorry about how miserable you were when I babysat you, but I knew that if you'd enjoyed yourself, they wouldn't let you come back. I'm glad you finally got away from those horrible people, Harry. I hope we can be friends now."

"Sure, Professor. It's not your fault. By the way, this is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger."

"Hello dear," said Professor Figg, shaking Hermione's hand nervously.