HALLOWEEN
“A Nimbus Two Thousand!” Ron moaned enviously. “I’ve never
even touched one.”
They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in
private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall
they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy
seized the package from Harry and felt it.
“That’s a broomstick,” he said, throwing it back to Harry with a
mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. “You’ll be in for it this
time, Potter, first years aren’t allowed them.”
Ron couldn’t resist it.
“It’s not any old broomstick,” he said, “it’s a Nimbus Two Thou-
sand. What did you say you’ve got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two
Sixty?” Ron grinned at Harry. “Comets look flashy, but they’re not
in the same league as the Nimbus.”
“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 Mal-
foy’s elbow.
“Not arguing, I hope, boys?” he squeaked.
“Potters been sent a broomstick, Professor,” said Malfoy quickly.
“Yes, yes, that’s right,” said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry.
“Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances,
Potter. And what model is it?”
“A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir,” said Harry, fighting not to
laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy’s face. “And it’s really thanks
to Malfoy here that I’ve got it,” he added.
Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at
Malfoy’s obvious rage and confusion.
165