Hallowe'en

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The next morning, Madam Pomfrey had been furious that she had to repair Sherlock's legs again, but John managed to smooth it over by lying, unconvincingly, and telling her that Sherlock was a sleepwalker. Madam Pomfrey didn't believe a word of it but didn't question any further.

They both walked, Sherlock on crutches, down to breakfast, chuckling at Malfoy's gobsmacked expression as they passed. Castiel, who had left the hospital wing earlier that morning, hurried over to join them. It seemed the Ravenclaws were already questioning him about their broom crash.

'Where did you two get to? We thought you'd been caught!' Ron said.

'We hid in an empty classroom. What about you lot?' John replied. Harry and Ron explained about their escapade with the three-headed dog. John and Castiel listened, wide-eyed and Sherlock seemed incredibly interested in the trap door they had seen.

'How am I supposed to know how wide it is?' Ron said, irritated at Sherlock's questions. 'I didn't even see it, and if I did I don't think I'd have a chance to measure it, do you?'

'But why were you up there?' Castiel asked.

'We were running away from Filch, Malfoy tricked us into going to the trophy room in the middle of the night,' Harry said sourly.

They spent the rest of breakfast plotting ways of getting their own back on Malfoy. The solution came a week later in the post in the form of a long, slim package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was amazed when they dropped it in front of him, knocking his bacon and several goblets of pumpkin juice to the floor. Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky because it said:

DO NOT OPEN AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand,

but I don't want everyone knowing you've

got a broomstick or they'll all want one.

Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the

Quidditch pitch at seven o'clock for your

first training session.

Professor M. McGonagall

Harry handed the note to Ron, who then passed it to Sherlock and John while Castiel read it over their shoulder.

'Wow a Nimbus Two Thousand!' Ron gasped.

'That's a very good model,' Sherlock said, eyeing the package.

'Good? It's one of the best!' Ron exclaimed. Harry and Ron left the Hall quickly, leaving John, Sherlock and Castiel at the table.

'Why did Professor McGonagall send Harry a broom?' Castiel asked quietly.

'Oh, I forgot!' John said. 'When Neville fell off his broom, he dropped his Remembrall. Malfoy grabbed it and flew off with it, but Harry went after him. Malfoy threw it and Harry chased it, he caught it after a fifty-foot dive! It was amazing! Professor McGonagall saw him doing it and now he's Seeker for Gryffindor,' John explained, vividly illustrating his description with various hand gestures. Sherlock said nothing. He wasn't surprised as he'd already heard about James Potter being a very good Quidditch player.

They had been at Hogwarts for two months and Sherlock still had to use his crutches. He stood up from the breakfast table and glowered at them stubbornly. John caught his expression and laughed.

'I told you, Sherlock. You could have got rid of them weeks ago if you didn't keep "accidentally" leaving them in your dormitory,' he said.

'And I told you, I don't need them,' Sherlock scowled.

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