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Aurora Areli
I KNEW HERMIONE MEANT well, so I wasn't upset with her for telling McGonagall about the broom. I could understand her concern. Harry and Ron, however, didn't think the same way, and refused to talk to her. She had taken refuge in the library in order to avoid the boys in the common room, so it was a relief when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again.
On the night before the new term started, Harry, Ron and I were sitting in the common room when Oliver approached us.
"Had a good Christmas?" he asked, and then without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice and said, "I've been doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After the last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one . . . I mean . . . we can't afford you to — well —"
Oliver broke off, looking awkward.
"I'm working on it," Harry said quickly. "Professor Lupin said he'd train me and Rory to ward the Dementors off. We should be starting this week; he said he'd have time after Christmas."
"Ah," Oliver said, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case — I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"
"No," Harry said.
"What!" Oliver looked shocked. "You'd better get a move on, you know — you can't ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!"
"He got a Firebolt for Christmas," Ron spoke up.
"A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A — a real Firebolt?"
"Don't get excited, Oliver," Harry said gloomily. "I haven't got it any more. It was confiscated." He proceeded to explain all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.
"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?"
"Sirius Black," Harry said wearily. "He's supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it."
Completely ignoring the fact that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Oliver exclaimed, "But Black couldn't have bought a Firebolt! He's on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?"
"I know," Harry nodded, "but McGonagall still wants to strip it down —"
Oliver went pale.
"I'll go and talk to her, Harry," he promised. "I'll make her see reason . . . a Firebolt . . . a real Firebolt, on our team . . . she wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do . . . I'll make her see sense . . . a Firebolt . . ."
. . . . .
Lessons started again next day. Since the last thing anyone left like doing was spend two hours outside in the freezing January morning, Hagrid provided a bonfire full of salamanders for our enjoyment. We spent the unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing, while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs.
