𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡.𝐩

𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 1, 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 8: 𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope?" he squeaked.

"Potter and Black have been sent broomsticks, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at them. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Black, Potter. And what models are they?"

"Nimbus Two Thousands, sir," said Y/N, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face.

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that we've got them," Harry added.

Harry, Ron, and Y/N headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall we wouldn't be on the team...."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the packages in their hands.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Y/N.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.

Y/N had a lot of trouble keeping her mind on her lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where her new broomstick was lying under her bed, or straying off to the Quidditch pitch where she and Harry would be learning to play that night. They bolted their dinner that evening without noticing what they were eating, and then rushed upstairs with Ron (Y/N's package with her broomstick in it clutched in her hands) to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousands at last.

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomsticks rolled onto Harry's bedspread.

Even Y/N, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought they looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with mahogany handles, they had long tails of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

As seven o' clock drew nearer, they left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. They'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded them of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

"Shall we?" Harry suggested, glancing at the girl next to him.

She shrugged with a small smile. "It couldn't hurt."

Harry beamed back. 'This's what it should be. Her smiling at no other boys except me - and Ron, of course.' He trusted his best friend enough to believe that he wouldn't steal her from him.

They mounted their broomsticks and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling - they swooped in and out of the goalposts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his slightest touch.