Moments

13. The Firebolt XP

(1000 words)

Harry ran along the corridor to Malfoy's room. He'd been to Ron's first but Ron wasn't there. He thumped on Malfoy's door and when he heard the dull 'yeess' from within, he barged in.

'Potter?' Malfoy drawled. 'I hope there's a bloody good excuse for you to be charging about like a Cornish Pixie on Acid.'

He waved his letter with excitement as Malfoy's kitten, Pickle, rubbed against his ankles, 'it's from Randolf Spudmore.'

Malfoy looked blank.

'Producer of Firebolts... He read about me losing my broom... says he'd like to give me a new one: a Firebolt XP!'

Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned away, muttering 'whoopy-fucking-do for you. The trials and tribulations of being the fucking Chosen One. How bothersome to be gifted the best fucking broom on the market?'

'I haven't finished,' Harry was amused by his friend's mardiness. 'He's suggested a broom for two of my friends too, my choice...'

Malfoy immediately swivelled around, his eyes alight. 'Really?'

'Yep.'

'You do mean...'

'Yep.'

'Merlin's Ginormous Saggy Balls!'

'Yep...'

Malfoy hugged Harry and they leapt around in a circle. They stopped and hurriedly stepped away from each other awkwardly.

Harry scratched the back of his neck. 'We'll have to do a photoshoot though, in return.'

Malfoy leant against his desk, he looked a bit flushed. 'I can live with that. I'm guessing Weasley is your other choice?'

'Yes.'

'Does he know?'

'Couldn't find him. I assume he's up the West Tower.'

Malfoy grimaced, 'poor Granger.'

'Hey, he's not that bad...'

'It's just a lot of ginger.'

'It doesn't warrant grimacing over.'

'You'd know!' Draco winked with a smirk.

'Not with Ron!' Harry exclaimed.

'I wasn't suggesting him, but whatever your inclination...'

Harry suddenly felt guilty. It was strange how his time with Ginny seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness these days. 'Off point, Malfoy!'

It was arranged that Randolf Spudmore could come to the school with a reporter from The Prophet to officially gift the broomsticks and take some photos.

Harry, Ron, and Malfoy met him at the school gates with Madame Hooch, who was there to chaperone the visitors on school grounds.

It appeared Spudmore was as excited as Harry and he shook Harry's hand very enthusiastically. 'Harry Potter! How wonderful!' he kept repeating.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and Harry suppressed a smirk.

'And this must be Ronald Weasley, another of our heroes...' he shook Ron's hand but he appeared to be looking around. 'No Miss Granger? he queried.

'No,' Harry said. 'She doesn't like flying. Or appreciate Quidditch.'

'Oh, what a shame...' Spudmore said sadly.

'I thought the third broomstick should go to my friend, Draco Malfoy,' Harry said.

The colour drained from Spudmore's face. 'Malfoy... Oh dear, oh...' he blustered.

The reported snapped his photographs.

'Will you stop that!' snapped Spudmore.

Madam Hooch looked decidedly worried, Harry was a hair's breadth away from losing his temper.

Malfoy stepped close and muttered, 'forget it, Potter. It doesn't matter. We should have expected this.'

'No,' said Harry, coldly. 'You were cleared, you're my friend, and I want you to have the other Firebolt.'

'You're also an illogical stubborn fool with a temper. Forget it.'

Harry turned back to Spudmore, to find him stood a little apart from them with Ron firmly holding his elbow. Ron's face was stony and his voice so low that Harry couldn't hear what he was saying but it sounded threatening.

'Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy,' the reporter sidled up. 'It's somewhat surprising to see you so friendly. Would you care to explain for the readers of The Prophet?'

Malfoy automatically assumed a charming smile and relaxed countenance. 'Of course. Since the war, Harry and I have put aside our old animosity and moved on. We have found we get on rather well and have become good friends.'

'Is this true, Mr Potter?'

'Absolutely,' Harry said. Malfoy elbowed him and he smiled through gritted teeth.

'And is there something in particular that caused this change?'

Harry thought in for a sickle, in for galleon and threw his arm around Malfoy's shoulders. 'Well, I suppose Draco saving my life was bound to have an impact.'

'Draco Malfoy saved your life?' The journalist was suddenly very excited.

'Yes,' said Harry. 'And his mother too. They changed the course of the war. It's hard to remain enemies when you realise you're both fighting for the same thing despite outward appearances. I would say that Draco is one of the silent heroes of the war. He really doesn't like to talk about it.'

Draco automatically dropped his head slightly and looked rather coy.

A plethora of photographs were taken of them.

Ron and Spudmore returned in time to catch something of the conversation. Spudmore announced, 'well, our silent heroes definitely deserve their little rewards too.' And with a flourish, he summoned the three brand-new Firebolt XPs to present them.

Harry heard him hiss to the journalist to ensure he included the news that Mr Malfoy had saved Mr Potter's life and that the Firebolt Company fully endorsed Mr Potter's point about silent heroes.

Ron smiled smugly.

After more photographs of the three of them, Spudmore and the journalist were escorted away by Madame Hooch.

All three dropped their shoulders.

'Fucking parasites,' said Malfoy.

'What did you say to Spudmore?' Harry asked.

'I told him it probably wouldn't be a good idea to sleight the Chosen One. If news got out, it could be very damaging for the future of his business,' Ron replied.

'You bloody Slytherin!' Malfoy proclaimed. 'Who knew you virtuous Gryffindors had it in you?'

Ron winked, 'that's the cunning thing, no one expects it of us. So, are we having a knockabout with a Quaffle?'

'Too bloody right!' and Harry kicked off the ground. It felt glorious to be flying again and to be flying such a precision piece of equipment. Malfoy was beside him in seconds and they both grinned manically.

'I'll get the bloody Quaffle then, shall I?' shouted Ron after them.

*****