Harry Potter and the Pretty Sorcerer's Balls

The three boys detoured to the owlery at Draco's request before heading to dinner.

"Half the Slytherins in our class will be writing their parents to tell them I was sitting with a Weasley. It's better if my father hears it from me first," he said, tying the note to his grand eagle owl.

"That's a Slytherin for you, ratting out their friends for something stupid!" Ron gibed.

Draco snorted. "You don't think half the Gryffindors parents aren't hearing about you sitting with a Malfoy, right this minute?"

Ron blanched but wasn't about to openly agree with Draco to his face.

"Will your father be angry?" Harry pouted his eyes wide with worry.

"Nah, he wants me to be seen on good terms with The Boy-Who-Lived, I just told him Weasley comes with the package."

Ron gaped at him, "Your father wants you to be friends with Harry?!"

"No, Weasley, he wants me to be friends with The Boy-Who-Lived."

It was Ron's turn to snort. "Makes it easier to believe that the Malfoy's aren't in league with the Dark."

"Whatever are you two prattling about?" Harry sulked.

"The Malfoy's were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."

Harry braced himself, waiting for Draco to argue, but he just smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

"Ooooh, the rich and powerful Malfoy's are evil, big surprise." After a moment the three boys burst into laughter, Harry doubling over in giggles.

Harry convinced Ron to send a note home with Twinkle to warn his parents that he and Draco were kind of friends - but not to worry because Draco wasn't completely bad.

"Twinkle?!" Draco exclaimed upon introduction. "Jeez Harry, does that actually mean something to you or was it just the girliest name you could think of?"

Harry giggled, "It does so mean something. When I petted her with my wand in my hand, it sent twinkling sparkly lights up just like the first time I waved my wand - so the name Twinkle reminds me of that."

"So every time you pet your owl, it's like stroking your wand?" Draco heckled.

"Well if that's the case, then I'll have you know that I prefer a gentleman to ask before stroking my Twinkle." Harry tossed his head in triumph. Draco reddened and snatched his hand back from the snowy owl's down with a start. "Tease," Harry giggled.

Mainly so they wouldn't have to endure the entire school's stares by entering the Great Hall alone-together, Draco and Ron went reluctantly with Harry back to the hospital wing to visit Crabbe and Goyle.

"Hi Vincent, hi Gregory!"

"Hi Harry!" the brutes replied in unison, then turned and glared at each other.

"We went to visit Mr Hagrid today, and he sent us back with some cupcakes, I thought you might like them. Hospital food is supposed to be just horrid!" Harry put the paper bag on the nightstand between them but soon the boys were both tugging at it with their bandaged hands, trying to claim them as their own. "Heavens to Betsy!" Harry exclaimed, "they're meant for the both of you!" He divided up the treats to prevent a brawl.

The bed-bound brutes thanked Harry and waved at him again as he left.

"My goodness," Harry gasped, "Those boys do like their cupcakes!"

Draco and Ron nearly choked on their gales of laughter.

"No Harry, it's just the one cupcake they're after!"

Once the first year students were able to find their way to and from the Great Hall, their classes and the library without incident, they found that they had a lot more time at meals to chat with the elder students and other houses. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle weren't exactly welcome at the Gryffindor table and Ron, Harry, and Neville didn't fare better on the Slytherin side. Their only chance to really hang out as a group came during their potions class where the Slytherins believed that Malfoy was simply following orders from his father - and no one in Slytherin would dare question the Senior Malfoy's decisions - and the Gryffindors simply accepted that Ron, Harry, and Neville were stark raving bonkers. Things began looking up when they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday - and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

The more Harry heard about flying, the more excited he became. He had never thought of a broom as anything but a tool for one of his many chores at the Dursley house - there was the one time he galloped around the kitchen pretending it was a horse but the lifeless broom left much to be desired, especially riding side-saddle. But now ... Harry would literally be swept off his feet! He'd sit astride the magical rod and be scooped into the air, hands gripping the handle firmly - but gently.

Harry was often seen fanning his flushed face with his hands, muttering to himself to "calm down, calm down!"

"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked. Harry giggled himself dizzy in reply.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry, Ron, and Draco wholeheartedly agreed that she had more than good reason to keep Neville as close to the ground as possible. Neville had an uncanny talent for getting into an extraordinary number of mishaps even with both feet firmly planted. The three other boys resolved to keep as near as possible to the clumsy boy to try and keep him out of trouble - while staying far enough away that if they couldn't prevent an accident, none of them would break anything during his tumble.

Hermione Granger was nearly as nervous about flying as Neville was - being that it was something the book smart know-all couldn't learn from a text - though not for lack of trying. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all cross-eyed with flying tips, Neville hanging on her every word. Everyone else practically erupted into cheers when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the post.

Harry hadn't had any proper letters since Hagrid's note - just silly messages from Draco and oddly enough, daily hello's from both Crabbe and Goyle.

"Another one, Cupcake?" Ron teased as Goyle's lumpy brown owl deposited its small burden, Crabbe's having already come and gone.

Harry sighed, "'Hi Harry - see you in flying today.'" He turned to wave at the two boys at the Slytherin table, noting the smirk on Draco's face.

"Aww, Cupcake's boyfriend's couldn't wait to say hello."

"They're not my boyfriends!" Harry huffed, "and stop calling me that!" Draco and Ron, and even Neville on occasion had taken to calling Harry 'Cupcake' after the hospital incident. Harry noticed Neville opening a package and pounced on him, relieved to find a way to change the subject. "Whatever do you have there, Neville?"

Neville showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"Oooh," Harry gushed, "it's so pretty!"

"It's a Remembrall!" Neville explained. "Gran sent it, she knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh ..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet. "It means -"

"- You've forgotten something." The table finished the sentence for him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry skipped down the front steps into the grounds with the other Gryffindors for their first flying lesson. Draco and the Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry jumped up and down with anticipation, Fred and George Weasley had said that the school brooms would actually start to vibrate if you flew too high - Harry intended to test that claim - vibrating brooms indeed!

"Harry, calm down - you'll do fine." Ron said.

"I'm not nervous Ron!" Harry continued to jump and shuffle, "I was born to do this!"

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had stylishly short, grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk. "Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. And you there - stop dancing!"

Harry eyed his broom. It was scuffed and some of the twigs poked out at odd angles - it was just what Harry wanted, a broom that was obviously mature and had a lot of experience under its belt.

"Stick your right hand out over the shaft -" Harry squealed "- and say 'Up!'" Madam Hooch instructed.

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Before Harry could even finish the word, the broom had leap into his hand, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over a bit and Neville's seemed to be shuffling away from him.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms - Harry squealed again - and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Ron and Draco jaws dropped in shock when Madam Hooch awarded Gryffindor five points for Harry's perfect positioning.

There were a few rough moments when they first kicked off the ground and into the air. Flanked by Ron and Draco, Neville was saved twice during their first attempts to hover just off the ground. Their efforts proved to be in vain when he leaned forward much too harshly while bringing the broom back down and ended up being thrown as if by a bucking bronco.

WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay on the grass in a heap.

With strict instructions for everyone to stay on the ground, Madam Hooch guided Neville - hobbling and biting his lip to keep from crying in front of his friends - to the hospital wing.

"Look!" said Draco, pointing at something shining in the grass. "What's that?"

"It's Neville's Remembrall! Oh, I do hope it isn't broken!" Harry moved toward the smoke filled ball, sitting in the grass a few metres away.

"I'll get it for you, Harry!" Crabbe exclaimed, already running. Goyle glared and made off after his friend. He pushed Crabbe over as he was bending down to pick up the ball, and the two began a nasty scuffle for its possession. They tumbled across the lawn, brooms tangled in limbs and hands prying each other in an attempt to release the others grasp on the object of desire. Crabbe finally broke away. Seeing Goyle just a step behind him and feeling the broom in his hand he mounted quickly and vaulted into the air. Goyle was not far behind. The two fought on broomsticks now, spiralling upwards, both of them with one hand on their broomstick, one holding the glass ball, and using their legs to fight the other.

"Stop! Boys, stop!" Harry wailed. Crabbe and Goyle showed no signs of relinquishing their hold on the glass ball. "Men!" he humphed. Rolling back the sleeves of his robe with a deliberate air, Harry gave his shoulders a shimmy and grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry put his hand on his hip, "Honey, sometimes a girl's got to break the rules!" and with that, he mounted the broom, took a dainty leap and soared into the sky. He felt the air ripple through his hair and tossed his mane gleefully, this was wonderful. The feel of the broomstick between his legs was so perfect, so natural; it seemed he knew just what to do. He arched his back and pulled his broomstick up with a flourish, till it was almost vertical. There were screams and gasps from the girls back on the ground and admiring whoops from Draco and the Gryffindor boys.

He turned his broomstick sharply to give Crabbe and Goyle a proper tongue-lashing. "Vincent! Gregory!" He screeched shrilly, "get down off those brooms this instant!"

The boys halted their fighting mid-kick, "Hi Harry!" they gave Harry their most winning smiles and waved in unison, using their broom-hands. Both of their broomsticks lurched and boys were forced to scramble for their broomsticks for safety, the Remembrall was caught in the scuffle and thrown high into the air. Harry gasped; his eyes opened as wide as could be as he watched it reach its apex and begin its descent. Harry poured all his vexation into the huffiest look he could manage at the bickering brutes before taking off after the Remembrall. He leaned forwards and pointed his broom as far down as he could without gravity pulling him off - he raced against the glass ball, urging his broomstick to go faster - the wind licked at his ears - he stretched out his hand and felt the cool glass ball in his palm, then wrenched the broom away from the fast approaching ground. With a hop, skip and finally a jump, Harry had dismounted the broomstick and ran towards the crowd of cheering Gryffindors.

"Harry Potter!" Harry's heart sank faster than a pageant contestant's whose name was just announced as the runner up, Professor McGonagall was running towards them. "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, Mr Goyle -"

"But -"

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

Harry followed in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode towards the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. And then what would happen to him? He couldn't go back to the Dursleys. He wanted to say something to defend himself but he knew anything he said would just get Crabbe and Goyle into trouble.

Harry slumped up the stairs and into the castle, his lips were pouted and trembling. Professor McGonagall finally stopped outside of a classroom. She opened the door, poked her head inside and asked Professor Flitwick if she could borrow 'Wood' for a moment. Probably some magical punishment stick, Harry thought. He didn't know if he should laugh or cry, after all the years at the Dursleys, he was finally in for a spanking.

But Wood turned out to be a person - not just a person, but a muscled older boy with sparkling eyes. Harry allowed himself a small grin. The two boys followed Professor McGonagall into an empty classroom.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker."
Wood's expression changed from charming puzzlement to almost frightening delight. Harry thought he saw madness in those eyes.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

Harry nodded silently. He recalled the lengthy discussion on the Hogwarts Express, they wanted him to play Quidditch. They wanted him to play a sport that had nothing to do with jumping rope, but did involve riding a broomstick as high and fast as he could. The feeling returned to his legs just in time for them to turn to jelly.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood, "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

The glint of madness intensified in Wood's eyes, a glimmer of it reflected in Professor McGonagall's own. The two began discussing possible broomsticks for Harry and twice Wood prodded Harry's side and nodded approval - perfect build for a seeker, he said.

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you." Then suddenly she smiled, "Your father would have been proud," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

Draco endured the Gryffindors glares and made his way next to Harry and Ron during dinner.

"Where are Vincent and Gregory?" Harry asked. Ron snorted.

"Hospital wing," Draco answered, smirking. "They had pummelled each other bloody by the end of the flying lesson."

Harry rolled his eyes but Draco wasn't finished.

"Crabbe challenged Goyle to a wizard's duel - midnight tonight in the trophy room."

Ron laughed, "I can't imagine either of them know enough magic to do any damage."

"Nah," Draco agreed. "They'll just start throwing punches. Either way, you should probably be there, Harry."

"What?!" Harry wailed.

"Well, seeing as they're fighting over you, Cupcake - you should probably show up." Draco smirked again, "You too Weasley, Goyle named you as his second."

Ron made a muffled sound and pumpkin juice came out of his nose. "What?!" he exclaimed to Draco's laughing but retreating back.

"Why are they still fighting?" Harry pouted.

"Crabbe blames Goyle for you getting hauled off by McGonagall - says if he had just let him get the 'shiny ball' you wouldn't have got in trouble."

"But I didn't get in trouble." Harry humphed and put his chin in his palms. "We'll have to go tonight to keep them from fighting."

"Well Cupcake, if you'd stop playing with their hearts and just pick one of them to be your boyfriend - they wouldn't have to fight anymore would they?" Ron laughed and was promptly hit with Harry's viciously thrown green pea.

"They're not my boyfriends!" he exclaimed for the thousandth time.

"Excuse me."

They both looked up, Ron wiping the spattered green pea off his face. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry. "I couldn't help overhearing what Malfoy was saying - "
Harry reached up and flicked her nose, "Nosy, nosy." He scolded as she yelped.

"Tink ub aw de points yowl doose ip your caught," she continued to lecture, holding her stung nose. "Ip's riwly bery selbish ub you!"

Harry and Ron lay awake until they heard their roommates Dean and Seamus falling asleep, Neville hadn't returned from the hospital wing. There really was a good chance they were going to get caught and Harry felt his was pushing his luck breaking another school rule today. But like Draco said, the two dumpling headed boys were fighting over him and it wouldn't do not to make an appearance.

"Half-past eleven," Ron muttered at last. "We'd better go."
They pulled on their dressing gowns, picked up their wands - just in case - and crept into the common room. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice sniped at them from the chair nearest. "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger.

"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

Harry flicked her on the nose again - harder this time - as she was threatening to tattle. He hadn't met such a busybody since the Yellow Tuna! He harrumphed at the girl in exasperation and climbed through the portrait hole.

Hermione wasn't giving up that easily, she followed Ron through the portrait hole and continued her nasal tirade.

"Go away." The anger in Ron's voice finally shut the prattling girl up.

"Pine bud I borned you," she called to their departing backs. "You jusd rebeber but I seb ben your on the twain hobe toborrow, you're so -" she interrupted herself and gasped.

The boys were already nearing the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them. Apparently the Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit, leaving Hermione locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Hey guys," a sleepy voice sounded. Harry, Ron, and Hermione jumped a foot in the air. "I knew you'd come!" Neville picked himself up from his place on the floor.

"What are you doing out here?!" Ron exclaimed quietly.
"I've been out here for hours! Crabbe - er - Vincent and Gregory told me about the duel when they were in the hospital wing today. I figured you two were going."

"You silly goose," Harry chided, "you didn't have to wait out here if you wanted to come with us!"

Neville turned red. "I - um - I forgot the password."

Ron snorted and raised the sleeve on Neville's left arm. There just below the elbow, in tiny letters, was the word 'Pigsnout.'

Neville's blush deepened, "I forgot that, too."

The four students cautiously made their way to the trophy room, Hermione tut-tutting every few steps. They found the three Slytherins just inside.

Draco nodded to Neville, seeing he was properly mended, then sneered, "What is she doing here?"

With a nod from Draco, Crabbe and Goyle stopped glaring at each other just long enough to say 'Hi' to Harry, and hoist Hermione up from under each arm, deposit her outside and close the door.

Harry rolled his eyes before launching in on Crabbe and Goyle. After explaining that he had in fact been placed on the Quidditch team and not expelled, he warned them to stop their nonsense and get to bed.

"Wood wants that kept quiet though," Ron added, noticing Draco's smirk. "At least give us a day or two before you blab."

Draco agreed.

They found Hermione waiting outside the door, beet-red with anger. She opened her mouth to begin screeching at them.

"Hush!" Harry interrupted. "Did you hear something?"

A noise in the next room made them all jump. It was a distinct 'meow.'

They tiptoed as fast as they could toward the end of the hall. Another 'meow' was heard. Neville let out a frightened squeak and tripped, crashing into a suit of armour, bringing it and Ron down with him.

The seven students looked at each other aghast before Draco bellowed "Run!" and they all took off. At the end of next hall, the Slytherins and Gryffindors separated, trying to make they're way to their respective dormitories.

The Gryffindors tore through the halls until they ran into Peeves - the poltergeist took special pleasure in tormenting Neville and with a roar that echoed throughout the castle, he announced their location. The group ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a locked door.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, "We're done for!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch was running as fast as he could towards Peeves' shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, and unlocked the door with a spell.

The lock clicked and they piled through, closing the door behind them. Outside, they could hear Filch having just as hard a time with Peeves as they had.

They sighed and waited for their eyes to adjust to the dark room. Harry scanned the room and began backing up squashing Ron, Neville and Hermione against the door. Neville's squirms and 'eeks' indicated that he too was aware of the nightmare they had walked into. They weren't in a room, as Harry first supposed, they were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor the Headmaster warned them against during the welcoming feast. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous, three headed, rabid dog, foaming at the mouth, saliva dripping from pointy yellowish fangs.

"Eeeeeeeek!" Harry screamed, and ushered the group out of the corridor, slamming it behind them once again. Filch was nowhere to be seen. They ran as if being chased by - well - a three headed dog, and didn't stop until they were safely inside the Gryffindor common room.

Harry pulled himself out of one of the squashy armchairs and turned to Hermione, who looked just about composed enough to start lecturing again. "Time for me to get my beauty sleep," he said. "I suggest you do the same." Harry dragged Neville and Ron to their dorm-room and the three of them slumped into their beds.

"Ron," Harry whispered, before falling asleep. "I think I know where Hagrid's parcel is!"