Chapter 7: Mudblood

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Third Person's POV

The Gryffindor Quidditch team -- Harry, Fred, George, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson -- trail Oliver Wood through the courtyard, toward the distant Quidditch pitch. Several students are outside, studying.

"I spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program. We're going to train earlier, harder, and longer!" Oliver squinted. "What the... I don't believe it!"

Crossing the courtyard from the other side are seven boys in green robes, also carrying broomsticks. At their lead is Marcus Flint, trollish Slytherin Captain. Ron, sitting at a table with Hermione and Lucy, looked up.

"Hermione! Lucy!" Ron said, calling for their attention. Both girls stopped writing and looked up and gazed to what Ron was watching.

"Uh-oh. I smell trouble." Said Lucy, getting to her feet.

"Come on." Hermione spoke as the three darted towards the Quidditch Pitch.

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Lucy's POV

I'm presently sitting here on one of the tables -or benches- at the quidditch pitch with Hermione and Ron.

Hermione is, as usual, doing her homework, whilst Ron is gobbling his sandwiches like there's no tomorrow. Me? Well, I'm secretly chatting with Tom beneath the table.

I'm currently asking him if he knows anything about me blacking out and waking up in the Girl's bathroom.

"Tom, may I ask you something?" I scribbled down. It fade away, as expected.

"Certainly, Lucy."

"What do you think is the reason I kept on blacking out and always waking up in the same place, which is the Girl's bathroom?"

"I have no idea. Perhaps you just need a rest."

I sighed exasperatedly. "Alright. Thanks for the advise, Goodbye."

"Anytime." I shut the diary closed. 'What could possibly be the reason?' I thought.

My thoughts are interrupted by Ron.

"Hermione! Lucy!" He called. We looked up and gazed to what Ron was watching. Slytherin.

"Uh-oh. I smell trouble." I said, getting to my feet.

"Come on." Hermione spoke as we dashed towards the Quidditch Pitch.

"Clear out, Flint! I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today." We heard Oliver growled, positively spitting with rage.

"Easy, Wood. I've got a note." Flint replied calmly as he handed him a parchment.

As Oliver snatched it, Ron, Hermione and I came up to join them.

"'I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Oliver looked up. "You've got a new seaker? Who?" He asked, distracted.

And from behind the six large figures before us came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. My jaw dropped. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" Harry and I said in disbelief.

"That's right. And that's not all that's new this year..." Malfoy said smugly.

As one, the seven Slytherins hold out seven brand-new gleaming broomsticks. The Gryffindors and I look stunned.

"Those our Nimbus Two Thousand Ones." Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

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