Twin Power *Cedric Diggory Love Story* (EDITING)

Harry and I, play Quidditch?

Cassia's POV

Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday -- and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," Harry said darkly. "Just what I've always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," Ron said reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnegan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was so exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move (or so he told me).

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"Eye of rabbit, harpstring hum, turn this water into rum," Seamus recited. He had his spellbook open, and he was waving his wand at a glass of water.

"What's Seamus trying to do to that glass of water?" asked Harry.

"Turn it to rum," I answered as Seamus recited the spell again.

"Actually managed a weak tea yesterday, before --" Ron added, before we were cut off by a huge explosion. We all looked to Seamus, and his eyebrows were burned off. Some of the other Gryffindors were laughing at him. I rolled my eyes. Hermione just fanned the smoke away from her face with her hand. I suddenly heard a screeching noise coming from overhead.

"Ah," Ron sighed, "The mail's here." Owls swooped in and dropped packages and letters to people all over the Great Hall. Harry and I got nothing.

"Can I borrow this?" Harry muttered to Ron. Ron nodded, and Harry took what looked like a newspaper from him, reading to himself.

"Hey, look- Neville's got a Rememberall," Dean suddenly blurted out. I looked over at him and saw that Neville had a small glass orb in his hand.

"I've read about those!" Hermione exclaimed. "When the smoke turns red, it means you've forgotten something." As if on cue, smoke began to form inside the little sphere and it turned red.

"The only problem is, I can't remember what I've forgotten," Neville complained. Poor Neville.

"Ron, Cassia, look! Someone broke into Gringotts!" Harry whispered, nudging me. I looked in his direction and saw that his eyes were on the latest issue of The Daily Prophet.

"What?!" I silently exclaimed.

"Listen," Harry whispered. He read the article, with Ron and I looking over his shoulders. "'Believed to be the work of dark witches or wizards unknown, Gringotts goblins acknowledging the breech insist nothing was taken. The vault in question -- #713 -- had, in fact, been emptied earlier that very same day.'" A confused look spread across his face. "Odd. That's the vault Hagrid and I went to."

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At three-thirty that afternoon, me, Harry, Ron, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under our feet as we marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.