Ron-Weasly book 1

"No, he wasn't standing on the floor, but on the hatch. It's clear to a fool that he's guarding something there." Hermione stood up, giving us an indignant look.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself," she said sharply. "We could all have been killed... or, even worse, expel from school. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed. I watched her go with my mouth open.

"No, we don't mind," I managed when Hermione was gone. "You'd think someone had invited her to come with them..."

Chapter 9.

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Harry and me at breakfast the next morning — we were tired, but we were glowing with happiness. It seems that Malfoy already had no doubt that he would not meet us again, because instead of breakfast, having been expelled from school, we would take the train to London.

Unlike Malfoy, we were really happy. After waking up and discussing what happened last night, Harry and I decided that meeting the three-headed dog was a great adventure and we would like to have another one in the same spirit. And now we were wondering what might need such heavy security.

I reached for the fried eggs and sausages.

"It's either something very valuable or something very dangerous," I said.

"Or both at the same time," Harry said thoughtfully.

However, that's all we knew about this mysterious object, This means that its length is about five centimeters. But it was too little to guess or even guess what kind of object it was.

As for Neville and Hermione, they didn't seem to care what was in the hiding place where the dog was standing. All Neville could think about was never being around the three-headed dog again. And Hermione just ignored Harry and me, refusing to talk to us. However, if we consider that she was a terrible know-it-all, always climbed ahead and loved to command, then we were only glad of her silence.

More than anything in the world — except the desire to find out what lies in the forbidden corridor, Harry and I wanted to get back at Malfoy. And to our great joy, a week later we had such a chance. It happened at breakfast, when owls carrying mail flew into the Great Hall.

Everyone sitting in the hall immediately noticed six owls carrying a long bundle through the air. I was just as curious about what was in the package as everyone else. The owls swooped over Harry's desk and dropped the package right into his plate of fried bacon. The plate broke. No sooner had six owls gained height than a seventh appeared, dropping a letter on the bundle. Harry opened the envelope first. He barely concealed his joy and handed the letter to me.

"DO NOT OPEN THE PACKAGE AT THE TABLE," the letter read. "Your new broom, Nimbus 2000, is in it, but I don't want everyone to know about it, because otherwise all the freshmen will start asking to be allowed to have personal brooms. At seven o'clock in the evening, Oliver Wood is waiting for you at the Quidditch pitch, where the first practice session will take place.

Professor M. McGonagall"

Holy shit, it's the new racing broom itself.

"Nimbus 2000!" I groaned with envy. "I've never even held one in my hands."

We quickly left the hall to have time to examine the broom before the start of the first lesson. But as we approached the stairs, Crabbe and Goyle appeared in our path. Malfoy appeared from behind them, snatched the bundle from Harry and felt it appreciatively.

"It's a broom," he stated flatly, tossing the bundle back to Harry. There was anger and envy on his face. But only if I was envious in a kind way, then Malfoy's envy was black. "You're not going to get out of this one, Potter, "Freshmen are not allowed to have their own brooms."

I couldn't stand it. It was such an opportunity to mock him that I couldn't resist.

"It's not just some old broom", I looked at Malfoy with superiority and grinned defiantly. "This is the Nimbus 2000. What did you say, Malfoy, about that broom you left at home? Isn't this the Comet 260? The broom, of course, is not bad, but there is no comparison with the Nimbus 2000."

"What do you know about broomsticks, Weasley? You wouldn't even have enough money for half a pound," Malfoy muttered in response. "You and your brothers have probably been saving up for an ordinary broom for many years, buying twigs each."

Before I could reply, Professor Flitwick appeared next to Malfoy.

"I hope you boys aren't fighting here." he squeaked.

"Professor, Potter's got a broom," Malfoy blurted out and froze, clearly pleased with himself.

"Yes, yes, it's okay," Professor Flitwick smiled broadly at Harry. "You know, Potter, Professor McGonagall told me about the exception she made for you. What kind of model is this?"

"It's a Nimbus 2000, sir," Harry explained, "I have to thank Malfoy for getting me such a broom." Crabbe and Goyle parted, and we went up the stairs, shaking with silent laughter. Malfoy looked furious and helpless at the same time.

"The funny thing is, it's true," Harry giggled as they reached the top of the marble staircase. "If Malfoy hadn't grabbed Neville's reminder, I wouldn't have joined the team..."

"So you think this is a reward for breaking the school rules?" An angry voice rang out from behind. We looked back and saw Hermione Granger coming up the stairs. She looked disapprovingly at the bundle in Harry's hands. I don't think you've been talking to us," Harry said.

"And don't change your mind in any way," I added it. "Especially since it brings us so much benefit."

Hermione proudly walked past, lifting her nose to the ceiling. After school, Potter and I rushed upstairs together to finally unpack his Nimbus.

"Oh, my God!" I breathed out admiringly, unable to take my eyes off the miracle that had opened up to us. Even Harry, who didn't know much about brooms, was impressed. The mahogany handle was polished to a shine, the long straight rods and the gold letters "Nimbus-2000" — in short, the broom was just a sight. In the evening, Harry took a broom and went to his first workout.

* * *

In two months, the castle has become my home. I felt comfortable at Hogwarts, and I made a friend here. In addition, it was very interesting here, including in the lessons, which have become much more exciting since the first-year students have mastered the basics and started studying a more complex program.

When we woke up on the morning of Halloween, we felt the delicious smell of baked pumpkin, an indispensable attribute of this holiday. And then, in a spell lesson, Professor Flitwick announced that, in his opinion, we were ready to start practicing. Ever since Professor Flitwick made Neville's toad fly around the classroom several times, I, like everyone else, have been dying to master this art.

Professor Flitwick divided all the students into pairs. Harry's partner turned out to be Seamus Finnigan, which made Harry very happy. But I was unlucky — I got Hermione Granger as my partner. Although Hermione didn't seem thrilled either. It was hard to tell which of us looked more annoyed. Hermione hasn't spoken to Harry or me once since the day Harry got the broom.

"Don't forget the brush movements that you and I practiced," Professor Flitwick was squeaking "The brush rotates easily, and sharply, and with a whoosh. Remember, it's easy, and sharp, and with a whoosh. And it is very important to pronounce the magic words correctly — do not forget about the wizard Baruffio. He said "es" instead of "ef" and as a result found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo standing on his chest."

It was not easy to achieve the result. I did everything as Professor Flitwick taught, but the pen I was trying to lift into the air wouldn't come off the desk. An impatient Seamus quickly lost his temper and started poking the feather with his magic wand, which sparks flew out, as a result, he managed to set it on fire — Harry had to extinguish the feather with his pointed hat.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" I shouted, waving my arms like a windmill. But the pen in front of me remained motionless. What's wrong? Is it really a wand?

"You're pronouncing the spell wrong," Hermione said unhappily. "It should be pronounced like this: Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, the syllable "gar" should have a long "a"."

"If you're that smart, try it yourself," I growled back. "Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robes, waved her wand, and cast a spell. The pen lifted off the desk and hovered over Hermione at a height of about one and a half meters.

"Oh, great!" Professor Flitwick applauded. "Everyone saw that Miss Granger had succeeded!"

"By the end of the class, I was in a very bad mood. No wonder no one can stand her," I muttered as we tried to make our way through the crowd of schoolchildren that filled the hallway. "To be honest, she's a real nightmare."

Finally, we got out of the crowd. But at that moment, someone bumped into Harry from the side, apparently not noticing him.

It was Hermione. She immediately darted back into the crowd.

"I think she heard what you said." he said worriedly, turning to me and rubbing his side.

"So what?" I waved it off, but I felt a little uncomfortable. "She should have noticed by now that no one wants to be friends with her."

Hermione didn't show up for the next lesson, and no one knew where she was until the evening. It wasn't until we were going down to the Great Hall for the Halloween banquet that Harry and I overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the women's bathroom and wouldn't calm down, asking to be left alone.

I felt really uneasy. But a few moments later, when we entered the festively decorated Great Hall, I forgot all about Hermione. Food! And we'll visit this crybaby later. Moreover, I won't go to the women's bathroom, I still don't want to be known as a pervert. Thousands of bats sat on the walls and ceiling, flapping their wings, and several thousand more flew over the tables like low-hanging black clouds. It made the candles stuck in the pumpkins flutter. Just like at the banquet on the occasion of the start of the school year, there were empty golden dishes on the tables, on which suddenly appeared a wide variety of dishes.

I was helping myself to a plate of baked pumpkin when Professor Quirrell ran into the hall. His turban was askew, and there was fear on his face. Everyone in the room froze, watching as Quirrell ran up to Professor Dumbledore's chair and, leaning heavily on the table, groaned:

"The troll! The troll... in the dungeon... I was in a hurry to inform you..." And Quirrell, having lost consciousness, collapsed to the floor. There was a commotion in the hall. It took several loud purple fireworks exploding from Professor Dumbledore's wand for silence to return.

"Prefects! Dumbledore rumbled."

Take your faculties to their dormitories immediately! Percy immediately jumped up from the table, clearly feeling at home.

"Follow me quickly!" he commanded. "Freshmen, stick together! If you listen to me, nothing terrible will happen! Let the freshmen through, let them come to me! No one is left behind! And everyone follow my orders— I'm the headman here!

"How could a troll get into the castle?" Harry asked me as we hurried up the stairs.

"Don't ask me how I know." I shrugged my shoulders. "Actually, it's strange — they say that trolls are terribly stupid. Maybe Peeves let him in, decided to make a joke before Halloween?"

Judging by the busy traffic on the stairs, the evacuation was in full swing. Only the Halfpuff students lived up to the reputation of their faculty: they crowded into one of the corridors and prevented the others from passing. And the Slytherins were led upstairs somewhere. It makes sense, though. They have a living room in the dungeons. Harry and I were making our way through the crowd when Harry suddenly grabbed my sleeve.

"I just remembered: Hermione!" Harry suddenly yelled.

"What about Hermione?" I didn't understand.

"She doesn't know about the troll."

Damn, I completely forgot about her. I bit my lip. If it's my fault she dies, I won't forgive myself.

"Okay," I said abruptly after a few seconds, which it took me to summon all my courage. "But if Percy sees us..."

Crouching down, we climbed into the middle of a group of Halfpuff students, who finally moved towards their tower— that is, in the opposite direction. No one paid any attention to us, and after a while we emerged from the crowd, quickly ran down an empty side aisle and rushed to the women's toilets. The goal was just around the corner. We were already turning the corner when we heard quick footsteps behind us.

"It's Percy!" I hissed, grabbing Harry and hiding with him behind a large stone griffin. However, it wasn't Percy who ran past us, but Professor Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from sight.

"What is he doing here?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he in the basements with the other teachers?"

"Do you think I know?"

We tiptoed into the next corridor, just where Snape had disappeared, whose retreating footsteps we could clearly hear.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry started, but I held up my hand.

Fuck Snape, we have more important things to do. The air smelled like a mixture of dirty socks and a public toilet that hadn't been cleaned in years. Is it just me, or have we found a troll?

Can you smell it?

Harry sniffed and wrinkled his nose. The smell was followed by a sound-a low roar and the shuffle of giant soles. I pointed to the end of the corridor, and something huge was moving in our direction. We shrank back into the shadows, watching as IT emerged onto a moonlit stretch of corridor. It was something terrifying, about four meters tall, with dull granite-gray skin, a lumpy body resembling a boulder, and a tiny bald head that looked more like a coconut. The troll had short legs as thick as wood and flat, calloused feet. His arms were much longer than his legs, and therefore the giant club that the troll held in his hand dragged along the floor behind him, and the smell coming from him could have struck better than any club.

The troll stopped, froze at the doorway, and bent down to look inside. He wiggled his long ears, seemingly trying to make some kind of decision. The process was delayed because the troll's brain, judging by the size of its head, was tiny. However, in the end, the decision was made and the troll, hunched over, crawled into the room.

"Look, the key's still in the lock," Harry whispered, "We can lock him in there."

"It's not a bad idea," I replied nervously. As we crept towards the door, my mouth went dry. Praying to heaven that the troll would not leave the room, we crept very close. And then Harry darted forward, slammed the door, and turned the key in the lock.