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in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and |
started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. |
Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. |
"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy -- it's all right, |
up you get.". |
She turned to the rest of the class. |
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You |
leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before |
you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear." |
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with |
Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. |
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. |
"Did you see his face, the great lump?" |
The other Slytherins joined in. |
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil. |
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced |
Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, |
Parvati." |
"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the |
grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." |
The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up. |
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking |
to watch. |
Malfoy smiled nastily. |
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find -- how about -- |
up a tree?" |
"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick |
and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level |
with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, |
Potter!" |
Harry grabbed his broom. |
"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move -- |
you'll get us all into trouble." |
Harry ignored her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom |
and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed |
through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him -and in a rush of |
fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being |
taught -- this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up |
a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls |
back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron. |
He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked |
stunned. |
"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!" "Oh, |
yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried. |
Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom |
tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfay like a javelin. Malfoy |
only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and |
held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping. |
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called. |
The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy. |
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball |
high into the air and streaked back toward the ground. |
Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and |
then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down |
-- next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball |
-- wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people |
watching -- he stretched out his hand -- a foot from the ground he |
caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled |
gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. |
"HARRY POTTER!" |
His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was |
running toward them. He got to his feet, trembling. |
"Never -- in all my time at Hogwarts --" |
Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses |
flashed furiously, "-- how dare you -- might have broken your neck --" |
"It wasn't his fault, Professor --" |
"Be quiet, Miss Patil |
"But Malfoy --" |
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now." |
Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as he |
left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward |
the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to |
say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong |
with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even |
looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he'd done it. He hadn't |
even lasted two weeks. He'd be packing his bags in ten minutes. What |
would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? |
Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor |
McGonagall didn't say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched |
along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was |
taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to |
stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid's assistant. His |
stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming |
wizards, while he stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid's bag. |
Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door |
and poked her head inside. |
"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" |
Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on |
him? |
But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out |
of Flitwicles class looking confused. |
"Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up |
the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry. |
"In here." |
Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except |
for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. |
"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which |
clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed |
the door behind him and turned to face the two boys. |
"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood -- I've found you a Seeker." |
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