Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Ron dropped his socks and jumped off his bed for a closer look.
    ‘I don’t believe it,’ he said hoarsely.
    It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Harry had gone to see every day in Diagon Alley. Its handle glittered as he picked it up. He could feel it vibrating, and let go; it hung in mid-air, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.
    ‘Who sent it to you?’ said Ron in a hushed voice.
    ‘Look and see if there’s a card,’ said Harry.
    Ron ripped apart the Firebolt’s wrappings.
    ‘Nothing! Blimey, who’d spend that much on you?’
    ‘Well,’ said Harry, feeling stunned, ‘I’m betting it wasn’t the Dursleys.’
    ‘I bet it was Dumbledore,’ said Ron, now walking round and round the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. ‘He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously …’
    ‘That was my dad’s, though,’ said Harry. ‘Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn’t spend hundreds of Galleons on me. He can’t go giving students stuff like this –’
    ‘That’s why he wouldn’t say it was from him!’ said Ron. ‘In case some git like Malfoy said it was favouritism. Hey, Harry –’ Ron gave a great whoop of laughter, ‘ Malfoy! Wait ’til he sees you on this! He’ll be sick as a pig! This is an international -standard broom, this is!’
    ‘I can’t believe this,’ Harry muttered, running a hand along the Firebolt, while Ron sank onto Harry’s bed, laughing his head off at the thought of Malfoy. ‘Who –?’
    ‘I know,’ said Ron, controlling himself. ‘I know who it could’ve been – Lupin!’
    ‘What?’ said Harry, now starting to laugh himself. ‘ Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he’d be able to buy himself some new robes.’
    ‘Yeah, but he likes you,’ said Ron. ‘And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might’ve heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you –’
    ‘What d’you mean, he was away?’ said Harry. ‘He was ill when I was playing in that match.’
    ‘Well, he wasn’t in the hospital wing,’ said Ron. ‘I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?’
    Harry frowned at Ron.
    ‘I can’t see Lupin affording something like this.’
    ‘What’re you two laughing about?’
    Hermione had just come in, wearing her dressing-gown and carrying Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck.
    ‘Don’t bring him in here!’ said Ron, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pyjama pocket. But Hermione wasn’t listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Seamus’s empty bed and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt.
    ‘Oh, Harry ! Who sent you that ?’
    ‘No idea,’ said Harry. ‘There wasn’t a card or anything with it.’
    To his great surprise, Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by this news. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip.
    ‘What’s the matter with you?’ said Ron.
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Hermione slowly, ‘but it’s a bit odd, isn’t it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn’t it?’
    Ron sighed exasperatedly.
    ‘It’s the best broom there is, Hermione,’ he said.
    ‘So it must’ve been really expensive …’
    ‘Probably cost more than all the Slytherins’ brooms put together,’ said Ron happily.
    ‘Well … who’d send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they’d sent it?’ said Hermione.
    ‘Who cares?’ said Ron, impatiently. ‘Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?’
    ‘I don’t think anyone should ride that broom just yet!’ said Hermione shrilly.
    Harry and Ron looked at her.
    ‘What d’you think Harry’s going to do with it – sweep the floor?’ said Ron.
    But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from Seamus’s bed, right at Ron’s chest.
    ‘GET – HIM – OUT – OF – HERE!’ Ron bellowed, as Crookshanks’s claws ripped his pyjamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks which hit the trunk at the end of Harry’s bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop on the spot, howling with pain.
    Crookshanks’s fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tinny