Ron-Weasly book 1

Anyway, on Tuesday, Hedwig just flew in to check on her wayward master, but Neville's barn owl brought him a small package sent by his grandmother. Neville was overjoyed and, opening the package, showed everyone a small glass ball. The ball seemed to be filled with white smoke.

"It's a reminder!" Neville explained. "Grandma knows that I forget everything all the time, and this ball tells me that you forgot to do something. Look, you need to take it in your hand, squeeze it tightly, and if pictures appear in it..."

Neville's face fell as the ball in his hand suddenly began flashing images of textbooks and objects.

"Well..." Neville said, confused.

A useful gift. It will help Neville a lot to remember exactly what he forgot. He was trying very hard to do this when Draco Malfoy, who was passing by, snatched the ball from his hands.

Harry and I jumped to our feet at the same time. It wasn't that we really wanted to fight — after all, there were friends of Malfoy's who outnumbered us very close by — but we couldn't back down either. But then Professor McGonagall stepped in between us, who had a sharper nose for trouble than any Hogwarts teacher.

"What's happening?" she asked sternly.

"Malfoy took the reminder from me, Professor," Neville explained.

Malfoy frowned and dropped the reminder on the table in front of Neville.

"I just wanted to see, Professor," he said innocently and walked away, hunching his shoulders fearfully.

He seemed to be trying to shrink down and thereby avoid the possible wrath of Professor McGonagall, who simply wouldn't notice him.

We're back to eating. This time I got a sausage egg. And Harry, as usual, was pecking at his porridge. And why does he like oatmeal so much? Neville stubbornly held the reminder in his hand, then sniffed and went to get his textbooks.

* * *

At three-thirty, Harry, me, and the other Gryffindor freshmen hurried over to the flight training area. The day was sunny and clear, a light breeze was blowing, and the grass rustled underfoot. The students descended the hill in a friendly formation, heading for a flat clearing that was as far away as possible from the Forbidden Forest, gloomily swaying the treetops.

The freshmen from Slytherin were already there, as were twenty broomsticks lying in a row on the ground. I remembered George and Fred complaining about the school brooms, saying that some of them vibrate if you climb too high on them, and some always swing to the left. You need to choose a broom that doesn't look so shabby. Although they all look like they've been honored veterans for a long time.

Finally, the flight instructor, Madame Hooch, appeared. She had short gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk's. So, is she drunk? The smell of it is characteristic.

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" she snapped. "Everyone stands in front of the broom — come on, move it."

I looked at the broom I had chosen. It was quite old, and several of its rods were sticking out in different directions. Oh, I hope she doesn't break right under me.

"Extend your right arm over the broom!" Madam Hooch commanded, standing in front of the formation. "And say, "Up!""

"UP!" Twenty voices shouted.

The broom jumped into my hand, as did Harry's broom, but most of the other students weren't so lucky. Neville's broom didn't budge at all, and Hermione Granger's broom rolled on the ground for some reason. When Neville uttered the command "Up!", his voice trembled so much that it became clear that he would prefer to stay on the ground.

Then Madame Hooch showed the students how to sit on a broom so as not to slip off it in the air, and walked along the line, checking how well we were holding our brooms. Harry and I were happy when Madam Hooch abruptly informed Malfoy that he was holding the broom incorrectly.

"But I've been flying for years!" Malfoy retorted hotly. There was resentment in his voice.

Then Madame Hooch loudly and clearly explained to him that it just meant that he had been flying incorrectly all these years. Malfoy listened to her in silence, probably realizing that if he continued the discussion, it might turn out that he was not at all the expert he wanted to appear.

Was Hooch wrong, or did Malfoy really not have a flight teacher?

"And now, when I blow my whistle, you will kick off the ground with force," said Madame Hooch. "Hold the broom firmly, try to keep it in an even position, rise a meter and a half, and then lower yourself — for this you need to bend slightly forward. So, on my whistle, three, two..."

But Neville, nervous, twitchy, and clearly terrified at the prospect of being left on the ground alone, shot up before Madam Hooch raised the whistle to her lips.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted, but Neville was rapidly climbing up. He looked like a cork popped out of a bottle. Two meters, four, six — and I saw Neville's pale face, looking down in fright. I saw Neville's mouth open wide in horror, as he slid off the broom, and...

boom! Neville's body fell to the ground with an unpleasant sound. Alive. I breathed out a sigh of relief. His broom still continued to rise, and then it lazily glided towards the Forbidden Forest and disappeared from sight. Madam Hooch was leaning over Neville, her face even whiter than his.

"A broken wrist," I heard her mutter. When Madam Hooch straightened up, her face was visibly relieved. "Get up, boy!" she commanded. "Get up. You're all right." She turned to the other students. "I'll take him to the hospital wing now, and you wait for me and don't do anything. Leave the brooms on the ground. Anyone who touches a broom in my absence will be out of Hogwarts faster than they can say the word "Quidditch." Come on, my dear."

Madam Hooch hugged a tearful Neville and led him towards the castle. Neville was limping badly.

As soon as they were far enough away for Madam Hooch to hear anything, Malfoy burst out laughing.

"Did you see his face? That clumsy one is a real bag! He couldn't even slow himself down with magic."

The rest of the freshmen from Slytherin joined him.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil cut him off.

"Oh, are you standing up for that jerk Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson, a girl from Slytherin with rough features, asked. "I never thought you liked such fat, whiny boys."

"Look at this!" Malfoy shouted, rushing forward and picking up something from the ground. "It's the stupid thing his grandmother sent him."

The reminder glittered in the sunlight.

"Give her to me, Malfoy," Harry said softly. Everyone froze and turned to look at him.

"Malfoy grinned impudently."

"I think I'll put it somewhere for Longbot to take it out later, like up a tree."

"Give it here!" Harry shouted, but Malfoy jumped on his broom and soared into the air. It seemed that he wasn't lying about the fact that he really could fly, and now he was easily floating above the top of a sprawling oak tree growing near the playground.

"And you take her away from me, Potter!" he suggested loudly from above.

Harry grabbed the broom.

"No!" Hermione Granger screamed, and Harry froze. "Madam Hooch forbade us to do this: you're going to get Gryffindor in trouble."

Harry jumped onto the broom, kicked off the ground with his feet and took off. He leaned back a little and rose even higher to the surprised screams and screams of horror of the girls left on the ground and my cheers. Harry whirled his broom around, coming face to face with Malfoy. He looked amazed.

"Give it here!" Harry shouted at him. "Or I'll knock you off the broom!"

"Really?" Malfoy asked mockingly, but despite his tone, concern appeared on his face. Harry leaned forward and grabbed the broomstick tightly with both hands, and it lunged at Malfoy like a stone flying out of a sling. Malfoy barely managed to dodge. And Harry, rushing past, turned the broom sharply. There was a round of applause from the Gryffindors.

I was enthusiastically shouting at the sky and clapping my hands.

"Come on, Harry, get rid of this jerk!"

"Are you bored, Malfoy?" Harry shouted loudly. "Crabbe and Goyle aren't here to help you."

Malfoy seemed to have the same idea.

"Then catch it if you can!" he shouted and, throwing the glass ball high into the sky, rushed down to the ground.

Harry bent forward and pointed the broom handle down, and the next second he entered an almost vertical dive. The speed was increasing. Harry stretched out his arm without slowing down, and when he was no more than half a meter from the ground, he caught the ball — just in time to straighten the broom. And he rolled gently onto the grass, clutching the ball in his hand.

"HARRY POTTER!"

A woman screamed from behind us. I turned around. Professor McGonagall was running towards us. Harry got to his feet, trembling with anticipation of what awaited him.

"Never... Never in all the time I've been working at Hogwarts..."

Professor McGonagall stopped short, unable to breathe with excitement, but her glasses glinted fiercely in the sun.

"How could you... You almost broke your neck..."

"It's not his fault, Professor..."

"I didn't ask you, Miss Patil..."

"But Malfoy..." I tried to explain to my friend that he was about to be punished by a strict dean.

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

I noticed the gleeful smiles on the faces of Malfoy and his friends. He waited until the professor turned away and walked away, and then quickly got close to Malfoy and punched him in the nose. Harry staggered after Professor McGonagall, who was heading towards the castle. Harry ran after the professor, and I silently fought with Malfoy. Interestingly, Creb and Goyle did not interfere in our squabbles at all. Cheering his leader on with shouts.

I hope my friend won't be expelled. I don't think so, though. I've never heard of it. But they can slap you for working out. So thoughts away, we need to get a stronger bastard. I hit him like Bill showed me. Malfoy punched me in the teeth and in the ear. Creb and Goyle suddenly pulled us apart. Damn, I just got a taste of it.

Harry had already climbed the steps leading to the castle gate and disappeared inside.

We were left waiting for Madame Hooch. Half an hour later, she returned and we flew for a while. After that, we wandered into the castle discussing what had happened in class.

I went to get the first-aid kit. For a tincture of mountain ash. I don't want to go to the hospital wing because of my split lips and swollen ear. I'm going to heal up right now, and I'm going to wait for Harry in the great hall.

* * *

"You're kidding..."

it was at dinner. Harry had just finished telling me what had happened when Professor McGonagall led him away from the playground. While he was talking, I was enthusiastically eating a pie with beef and kidneys. But now that Harry's finished, I've completely forgotten about the pie, and I haven't even taken the last bite.

"The hunter?" I was shocked. "But never freshmen... You will probably become the youngest player in the history of Hogwarts for..."

"...For the last hundred years," Harry finished for him, taking a bite of the pie with gusto. "Wood has already told me this."

I was so impressed by what I heard, so amazed that I just sat there with my mouth open and couldn't take my eyes off Harry. I even put the pie aside, I was so overwhelmed with emotions. Even my successful fight with Malfoy didn't seem like an achievement anymore.

"I'm starting training next week," Harry added. Just don't tell anyone. Wood wants it to remain a secret."

Fred and George entered the room and, noticing Harry, headed towards him — apparently, they were looking for him here.

"You're doing great," George said quietly. "Wood brought us up to speed. After all, we are also beaters in the national team."

"I'm telling you, we're definitely going to win the inter-house Quidditch competition this year." Fred assured him. "We haven't won since our brother Charlie graduated from Hogwarts. We'll lose to one faculty or another. But this year we will have a fantastic team. You must be very good, Harry.

"Wood was jumping up and down with delight when he talked about you."

"Okay, we have to go," the twins finally realized. "Lee Jordan claims to have found a new secret corridor through which you can get out of the school." Fred and George had barely disappeared when someone we weren't happy about came up to the table. Namely Malfoy, of course, accompanied by his loyal bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle.

"Last school lunch, Potter?" Malfoy asked mockingly. "Are you going back to the Muggles? What time is your train?"

"I see you've become much bolder on earth, especially when your two little friends are around." Harry replied coldly. Crabbe and Goyle made displeased faces.

These two people like to pretend to be brainless mugs. I don't know why they would do that.

"I can deal with you one-on-one at any time." said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. A duel of wizards. No fists, just magic wands. What's the matter with you, Potter? Oh, of course, you've never heard of wizard duels."

I quickly remembered the rules. It is unlikely that he will adhere to the rules thoroughly, after all, he, like us, has not yet been taught combat magic.

"He heard me," I quickly got my bearings, standing in front of Malfoy. "I'll be his second, but who will you take?"

Malfoy looked at his companions, assessing which of them would be more suitable for this purpose.

"Crabbe," he finally said. "Is midnight okay with you? Then at midnight we are waiting for you in the room where the awards are kept — it is always open."

Well, duels between elementary school students are prohibited. Harry should explain the situation, otherwise he's just blinking his eyes. When Malfoy walked away, Harry and I exchanged glances.

"What kind of duel is this?" Harry asked. "And what does that mean: will you be my second?"

"We need seconds to carry you home if you die," I calmly remarked, and calmly began to eat the already cold pie. I only realized it when I looked at Harry and saw the expression on his face. "But don't worry, deaths only happen in real duels, that is, if real wizards are fighting. And the most you and Malfoy can do is send sparks at each other. You don't know how to do anything yet, and therefore you won't be able to inflict serious damage on each other. By the way, I'm sure he expected you to refuse.

"What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry asked.

"Then throw the wand aside and punch him in the nose," I advised.

This is certainly a violation, but the duel will still not be according to the rules.

"Sorry..."

A girl's voice rang out from behind us. We turned around and Hermione Granger was standing in front of us.