Son of the Dark Lord

Chapter 13: The Map and Quidditch Practice

The next morning at breakfast, as the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his plate around. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when Hedwig dropped a letter on top of the parcel. She helped herself to Harry's scattered breakfast. Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:
DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Flint will meet you this afternoon on the Quidditch field at one o'clock to start preparing you for the tryouts next week.
Professor Snape
Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Draco to read.
"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Draco moaned enviously as he passed the note to Vincent and Gregory. "I don't know when father will buy me one." They all left the hall quickly; wanting to unwrap the broomstick in, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way downstairs barred by Weasley and his older brother. The elder Weasley seized the package from Harry and felt it.
"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them." Draco couldn't resist it.
"It's not any old broomstick, Weasley" he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand."
"Like it matters. The Nimbus is nothing special."
"What do you know about it, Weasley? I'm sure you couldn't afford half the handle. I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig." Before Weasley could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared behind Harry with a smug looking Alexander. He was looking the elder Weasley straight in the eyes.
"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.
"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said the elder Weasley quickly.
"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor Snape told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Weasley's face.
"Well, that's wonderful, Mr. Potter. We all expect to hear you are training hard."
"Yes, Sir."
"Now, run along, boys." Professor Flitwick walked away, fully expecting to be obeyed. However, the elder Weasley had not taken kindly to being spoken to in such a manner.
"Ten points from Slytherin for your attitude, Malfoy." The younger Weasley laughed.
"Serves you right, Malfoy." Draco lost it at that point. He was about to pull out his wand when Alexander stepped in front of him and pulled out his, but before he could actually curse either Weasley, Mr. Filch happened upon them.
"You there! No magic in the corridors! Follow me." Unsure exactly who he was speaking to, they all stood there for a moment. Mr. Filch turned back around when he realized no one was following him. He doubled back, grabbed Harry and Alexander by the arm, and forcibly brought them back to his office. Draco ran after the two.
He sat them down in the chairs in front of his desk then pulled out three long sheets of paper. He turned to Alexander first.
"Name?"
"Alexander Potter?"
"Crime..."
"Crime?! I didn't even do anything! Percy Weasley was abusing his powers to bully my little brother and his friend!"
"I saw you with your wand out. Now, crime: using magic in the corridors. Suggested sentence..." He was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in!" The door opened revealing Hermione.
"Sir, there's something wrong with Mrs. Norris. She's walking awfully unsteadily. Look!" She pointed out into the entrance hall, where Mrs. Norris was wobbling unsteadily toward the Grand Staircase.
"Mrs. Norris!" Mr. Filch bolted from his desk out to his cat. The three boys could hear him screaming at the nearby children, asking what they had done to her. He then gathered up his cat and went running off, shouting for Madam Pomfrey.
"Do you suppose we should wait, Harry?"
"I suppose so. I would hate to get into even worse trouble for leaving. I can't imagine what I'm supposed to have done, though. I didn't even touch my wand." Alexander shrugged. After a moment of sitting quietly, they began to look around. Harry spotted a drawer labeled Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.
"What d'you reckon he keeps in there?"
"Let's find out, shall we? Keep an eye out." Alexander said with a grin.
"I think you'd better. After all you were the one who actually had his wand out." Draco added, Alexander conceded the point and went to stand by the door. Harry and Draco opened the drawer and took a look at the contents. There were several very odd things in there. There was a book that appeared to be covered in blood. There was a jar of eyes. There was also a wand that appeared to be made of bone. They were surprised, therefore, when they spotted a piece of parchment inside. It was folded over several times, and appeared to be rather old.
"Hurry up you two! I think he's coming back!" Harry grabbed the parchment and shoved the door closed. They all bolted to their seats, Harry stuffing the parchment into his bag as they did so. Within moments, Mr. Filch stalked back into his office.
"How is Mrs. Norris, Sir? I trust she is doing better?" Alexander asked, faking concern.
"Huh! Oh, yes, she'd been Confunded. Idiot students! Now get out of here!" Without waiting to be told twice, Harry, Draco and Alexander took off. Hermione was waiting for them around the corner.
"Did it work? Did he let you off?"
"You Confunded Mrs. Norris?" Alexander asked. Hermione simply smiled. Draco hugged her.
"You're brilliant, Hermione! Thanks for that. He did let us off. Told us to get out of his office."
"I'm glad. Now, lets get back to the common room and see Harry's broom." Alexander smiled at the three and bade them goodbye as he headed up to Gryffindor tower. They all trooped off to the Slytherin common room, and were pleased to find Vincent and Gregory there as well. Draco walked up to the boys and quietly asked them to join them.
"Greg, Vince, come with us, we're going to check out Harry's new broom." The other two boys eagerly followed them all to the first-year boys' dormitory. Even Hermione followed eager to see the broom.
Once in the room, they all huddled around Harry's bed. He slowly unwrapped the broomstick, very eager to see it, yet nervous that it somehow would not live up to everyone's expectations. Finally, the broom rolled out onto his quilt. The silence in the room was intense as the five friends stared at his broom. Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.
Finally, Draco spoke. "You've got to let me have a go on that tonight, mate."
"Sure thing, Draco. Alexander probably deserves a ride too. Anyone else?" Hermione politely declined the offer, but Vincent and Gregory accepted.
"Well, you are going to have to decide amongst yourselves who goes first. Anyway, let me show you something else." Harry quickly explained what had been in the drawer and then showed his friends what he had pulled out of it. Hermione looked scandalized.
"You stole something, Harry? Who knows what could be wrong with it. It could cause blindness, or you may never be able to stop looking at it. Or...or..."
"Hermione, both of those are doubtful as I've already looked at it. I don't get the feeling that this is dangerous in the typical sense. I think Filch thought it was dangerous to him. Everything else in that drawer made me feel uneasy, but this didn't. I'm at least taking a good look at it." Harry unfolded the parchment and laid it out in front of him.
"What does it do, Harry?" He turned to his friend.
"Well, Draco, if I knew that I wouldn't be staring at it." Everyone had a good laugh at that comment, although Draco had given him a good natured shove first. Harry picked the parchment back up.
"It must do something. Filch wouldn't have confiscated a blank parchment." In desperation he shook the parchment slightly. "What do you do?" Draco laughed.
"I doubt it will start talking...to..." They were all staring at the parchment. Words had begun to appear. Harry set the parchment down so that everyone could read it.
I was created by Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aid to Magical Mischief-Makers. I am the Marauder's Map.
"It's a map? How do we read it?"
"I don't know, Draco. Any ideas, Hermione?"
"Try asking it." Harry shook his head. It seemed like such an odd thing to say, but it had worked before. He once again touched the map.
"How do we view the map?" More writing appeared.
To view the map, you must touch it with your wand and say, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." To wipe it clean again, touch your wand to the map and say, "Mischief managed."
Harry thanked the map then did as he was told. They all watched in awe as the writing disappeared and a map of Hogwarts appeared in its stead.
"Is that really..." Draco began.
"It's Hogwarts, mate." They all hovered over the map, taking in the minute details.
"Each of the ink dots is a tiny manifestation of a student. Look! There we are. Oh, and there's Professor Snape in his office. Professor Dumbledore is pacing his office. What is that?" She leaned closer to the map. They all looked at the spot she was pointing to. Something massive was standing in the third floor corridor. It was labeled, Fluffy.
"Do you suppose that was what Professor Dumbledore was referring to at the beginning of the year?" The four boys stared at her blankly.
"You know, when he mentioned that the third floor corridor was off limits to anyone who did not wish to die a very painful death."
"He said that? I suppose I missed that part."
Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, how could you miss that?"
Draco shrugged. "Perhaps I've just forgotten already. But really, it's named Fluffy, whatever it is. How bad could it be? We should go check it out."
"Actually, Draco, believe it or not, it's already time for lunch, we'd best head down if we want anything to eat." Harry cleared the map then they all headed down to lunch. As soon as they were done, Harry dashed back to his room for his broom and they all trooped out to the Quidditch pitch. Harry had never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.
As stated by Professor Snape, Flint was waiting for them when they arrived. There was a large wooden crate near Flint's feet. Harry landed next to him. Flint stepped forward.
"Hi, Harry. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then we'll practice a couple of times before the tryouts. As seeker, you won't really need to coordinate too much with the team." He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."
"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Marcus took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.
"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Marcus. "The Chasers—that's my position, by the way—throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"
"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited. "So — that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"
"What's basketball?" said Marcus curiously.
"Never mind," said Harry quickly.
"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper. The Keeper has to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."
"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box.
"I'll show you now," said Marcus. "Take this." He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat. "I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do. These two are the Bludgers." He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box. "Stand back," Marcus warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.
At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air—it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Marcus, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.
"See?" Marcus panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So — think you've got all that?"
"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off.
"Very good," said Marcus.
"Er — have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand.
"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers —"
"— unless they crack my head open."
"Don't worry, that shouldn't be a problem." Marcus reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.
"This," said Marcus, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages—I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep. Well, that's it any questions?" Harry shook his head. He understood what he had to do all right; it was doing it that was going to be the problem.
"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Marcus, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "I want to make sure you're ready so we don't lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these." He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Marcus throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch. Harry didn't miss a single one, and Marcus was delighted. After half an hour, Marcus decided they had practiced enough for the day. It was getting close to dinner time, anyway. "That Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year," said Marcus happily as they dragged the box of balls back into the changing room.
After Marcus had left, Harry lent his broom to Draco, Vincent, and Gregory. Alexander, who was brought down by Hermione, got to have a go on it too. They each spent about ten minutes flying around before Hermione reminded them it was time for dinner. Harry took a detour to the dormitory to put away his broom and was surprised when Draco followed him.