Harry gazed, baffled, at the dozens

Harry gazed, baffled, at the dozens of broomsticks that were lying in the grass. His class schedule had said that they were going to have flying glass next, but the teacher seemed to have changed her mind and decided to begin with a little house cleaning instead. But why were they going to sweep outside?

"Ever done any flying before, Harry?" whispered Ron.

"Flying? Yes, a bit," said Harry. "But it seems that we are going to clean something first." He brightened. "Or maybe we are supposed to bring the brooms with us when we are flying, and clean the school from the outside? Perhaps Madam Hooch wants to get rid of some of the cobwebs under the eaves?"

Ron stared at him for a moment. Then he giggled. "Oh. I forgot that you wouldn't know about brooms. We fly on the brooms, Harry."

"On the brooms?" Harry glanced down at his school broom. "Why?"

But before Ron could answer, Madam Hooch blew her whistle; she sounded like a hawk who meant business.

"Step up to your brooms, everyone," she said briskly. "Now, hold out your hands and command the brooms to rise. When it's high enough, grasp it with your hand, and mount your broom carefully."

Harry glanced around, baffled. Draco barked something at his broom, and the wooden shaft rose slowly into the air. Draco sat down on his broomstick with a small smile.

Hermione must have noticed Harry's confusion, for she whispered: "The brooms have been enchanted to fly, Harry."

Harry looked doubtfully at his broom. It didn't look terribly comfortable. Why couldn't they enchant a nice cushion or something instead, if they had to sit while flying?

A sudden panicked scream rent the air. Neville had managed to mount his broom, but the broomstick seemed to have mind of its own, and it shot off into the blue autumn air. Neville clung to his broom, wailing desperately, while the broomstick flew in wild loops and circles. Suddenly, the broom tore itself loose, and Neville fell to the ground with a thud.

"My wrist," he moaned. "I think... I think it's broken. It hurts!"

"Stand back!" said madam Hooch sharply, but Harry was already by Neville's side. His wrist was indeed broken, and the bones were sticking out at funny angles.

"Oh, Merlin!" muttered Madam Hooch. "He needs to go to the hospital wing right away."

"Wouldn't it be better just to put his bones back together right away?" suggested Harry. "I really don't think we should wait - he seems to be in a lot of pain. There! Is that better, Neville?"

Neville blinked down at his wrist. "What... What happened? What did you do?" He moved his hand this way and that, a sudden grin on his face. "Hey! It's all better!"

Madam Hooch poked his wrist gently, an expression of wonder on her face. Then she pulled Neville to his feet. "Well, you are going to the hospital wing anyway, just to make sure that everything is all right." She turned to the class. "Stay here. If I see a single broomstick in the air, the one who rides it will find himself out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch."

She marched off with Neville, casting a curious glance over her shoulder back at Harry.

"Well, well, well," muttered Draco Malfoy. He was kicking something small and brown that was sitting in the grass. "Looks like Longbottom lost his little pet." A few of the other Slytherins laughed.

"Urpurp!" said Trevor in alarm, trying to duck away from Draco's shoe.

"What are you doing?" yelled Ron.

"Just playing a little game, Weasley," said Draco lightly. The next moment, he bent down, picked up the toad, and took off into the air on his broomstick. "Let's leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find, shall we?"

"Urpurpurp!"

Harry could tell that Trevor didn't care for the game at all. "Wait, Draco!" he shouted. "I don't think he likes that. You have to bring him down right away."

But Draco didn't seem to hear him; he just steered his broomstick in the direction of the school roofs.

"Oh, no!" Harry whispered. "I'd better get Trevor back, before he gets really dizzy. I don't think he's very good with heights."

"Harry? No!" Hermione's face turned white. "Madam Hooch said "no broomsticks in the air", and you don't even know how to fly!"

"Don't worry," said Harry soothingly. "I can fly just fine, and I'm not going to use a broomstick." He smiled at Hermione, raised his arms and swooped off from the ground, rushing after Draco and Trevor.

"Draco?" called Harry softly. "I think you'd better put Trevor down; he's getting really nervous. I know you can't understand him, since you don't speak Toad, but he doesn't actually like this game."

Draco looked back over his shoulder at Harry. For some reason, he grew terribly pale, and an odd half-choked scream escaped him. He let go of Trevor, who went flying in a great arch towards one of the tower windows in the school building.

Uh oh. Harry rushed after Trevor and fortunately managed to catch the terrified toad just as he was about to crash into the window.

"There, there," said Harry soothingly in Toad, clutching the trembling toad to his chest. "Everything's fine. I'll bring you back down, and I'll make sure to tell Draco that you don't like playing this game."

"Harry P..Potter? What in Merlin's name-?" The window in the tower flew open, and Professor McGonagall peered out. She looked rather unwell, and she was clutching her chest. No wonder she needed a little fresh air! Maybe she had spent too much time inside with her books.

"Hello, professor!" Harry beamed at her. "Just helping Trevor get back down!" He showed her the little toad.

"But..." McGonagall seemed to have a hard time getting the words out. Finally, she said: "But you don't have a broom, Potter."

"Of course not!" Harry smiled. "Neville had an accident in flying class, you see, and Madam Hooch told us "no brooms in the air", while she was taking him to the hospital wing. I'm just getting his toad."

"I see." McGonagall stared at him for a long moment. Then a slight smile passed over her kind, homely face. "Too bad you are not in Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. You would have made a spectacular Seeker!"

...

The other boys were terribly quiet in the dormitory that night, and Harry was beginning to wonder if everyone was coming down with something. Only Ron seemed in a good mood; he was chatting and cracking little jokes, while the other Slytherin boys laughed nervously at his punch lines, even if they weren't terribly funny.

"Harry?" Draco looked a little unwell too. "You know I apologized to Longbottom, right? I told him it was only meant as a joke..."

Harry smiled reassuringly at him. "Of course it was only a game, Draco. But I don't think you should play that game again, since Trevor said he didn't care for it."

Draco fell silent for a moment. Then he said: "The... the toad said that?"

Harry nodded.

Draco seemed to ponder something for a long time. Then he said: "I've got an idea, Potter. Maybe... Maybe you and Weasley would like to come and visit me over the Christmas holidays? My parents said I could bring friends home if I want. We could all... you know... get to know each other a little better, be friends and all of that."

Harry beamed at him. "Thank you, Draco! That's a wonderful idea." He was still smiling when he fell asleep that night. How lovely it was to be at school, surrounded by so many friendly people!

...

That night, Harry had the strangest dream. In his dream, he saw the pale young Professor Quirrell, lying in his bed and talking in a trembling voice to his shard. And Quirrell's shard was speaking as well, and his voice was full of want and longing. And then a new image came into Harry's mind, and he saw a brilliant red stone, red as a robin's breast and luminous as the summer sun. And all at once, Harry realized that the broken piece of soul that Quirrell carried within him longed for that stone: He wanted the beautiful stone so badly that his heart ached for it, and his thoughts were heavy with yearning.

When Harry woke up, the memory of his dream was still so vivid that he could almost see the glittering stone before him still. He lay quite still in his bed for a long time, surrounded by his still sleeping friends, and thought about the stone. Somehow, he had to find that marvelous red stone and give it to Professor Quirrell's shard...