Ron Weasley and the Philosopher's Stone

In early November, the weather turned very bad. The mountains around the castle changed from green to gray, the lake began to resemble frozen steel, and the ground turned white with frost every morning. From the windows of the tower, I saw Hagrid defrosting brooms on the flight training area several times. Hagrid was wearing a long mole fur coat, huge boots insulated with beaver fur, and rabbit-fur mittens. It's also a good thing that winters in magical Britain are warmer than in the Muggle part of it. And there are no prolonged rains. But there are dangerous animals living in forests and fields. And I'm not talking about the mountains at all. They are usually favored by dragons and wyverns. The Quidditch competition has started at school. On Saturday, Harry had to take to the field for the first time after several weeks of regular and hard training. The Gryffindor team met with the Slytherin team. If they won, the Gryffindor national team would come in second place in the school championship. Almost no one saw Harry playing Quidditch, as Wood decided, stating that Harry was the team's secret weapon, which meant that his Skills should be kept secret. But the news that Harry had become a seeker on the Gryffindor team had somehow leaked outside the national team. Since Harry and I saved Hermione from the mountain troll, she has become much more relaxed about school discipline violations, and it has become much more pleasant to communicate with her. The day before Harry's first match, the three of us went out to the frozen courtyard during recess. And there Hermione showed us her skills - she took a glass jar of jam out of her pocket, put it on the ground, said something, waved her wand, and suddenly a bright blue flame burst into the jar. The most interesting thing was that the jar of fire could be safely moved from place to place and even put in a pocket - the blue flame warmed, but did not burn, and the glass of the jar remained cold. I wonder if she can set someone on fire like that, or is it just for heating? We were warming ourselves around the jar, with our backs to the fire, when suddenly Snape appeared in the courtyard. That's what the hard one brought him. I noticed that the professor was limping badly. Harry, Hermione, and I huddled closer around the fire so that Snape wouldn't notice it. We had no doubt that it was forbidden to light a fire in the courtyard. Snape didn't see the fire, but after looking at our guilty faces, he found another reason to quibble. I had no doubt that Snape was looking for him, and diligently. “What have you got there, Potter?” Snape asked dryly, coming closer to us. As usual, my friend became the object of criticism. Harry held the History of Quidditch in his hands and showed the book to the professor. “It is forbidden to take library books out of the school building.” Snape informed him. “Give me the book. For your offense, you receive five penalty points.”   “He just came up with this rule.” Harry muttered angrily, staring after the limping Snape. “I wonder what's wrong with his leg?” “I don't know, but I hope it really hurts.” I said vindictively. *** It was especially noisy in the Gryffindor Common Room that night. Harry, Hermione, and I were sitting by the window, Hermione checking our spell homework. She never let us copy, "Then how do you learn anything?" - but she agreed to check our homework, and so we still got the right answers from her. Even though we had to dig through a lot of literature, it greatly accelerated the process. And our grades have become higher. But I still don't like to write. And Harry actually had to learn to write with pens. His handwriting was terrible. At least the blots can be magically removed. And the feathers are usually enchanted. Harry was shaking with excitement about the outcome of the game. He stood up decisively, telling Hermione and me that he would go look for Snape and ask him to return the book to him. “Better me than you," Hermione and I blurted out at the same time, but Harry shook his head. He returned half an hour later. Pale and thoughtful. “Did you succeed?” I asked, looking at Harry, who had appeared in the room. “Hey, what's the matter with you?” In a whisper, Harry told us everything he had seen. Snape got bitten by a cerberus, wow. What was he doing there, was the troll in the dungeons, or was he later bitten? “Do you understand what all this means?” Harry exhaled, finishing his story. “He tried to get past that three-headed dog, and it happened on Halloween!” Actually, Snape hadn't limped at Halloween yet. Well, okay, I won't quibble. Even if I wanted to shield that greasy-haired bastard, Harry wouldn't believe me. “Ron and I were looking for you to warn you about the troll, and we saw him in the hallway - he was heading that way! He's hunting for what the dog is guarding! And I'm willing to bet my broom that he let the troll into the castle to distract attention and sow panic, and calmly steal what he's hunting for!” Hermione looked at him with wide eyes. “No, that's impossible," she replied. “I know he's not a very nice person, but he wouldn't try to steal what Dumbledore is hiding in the castle.” “Honestly, Hermione, to hear you say that, all the teachers are just saints”, I replied hotly. “Personally, I agree with Harry.” Snape could be involved in anything. But what exactly is he after? What is this dog guarding? *** The next morning turned out to be cold but sunny. The great hall was filled with the delicious smell of fried sausages and joyful chatter - everyone was anticipating an exciting spectacle. Today is the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. “You should at least eat something," Hermione said worriedly, seeing that Harry was sitting in front of an empty plate. “I don't want anything," Harry snapped. “At least one slice of toasted bread," she insisted. “I'm not hungry," Harry replied decisively, shaking his head vigorously for emphasis. “Harry, you need to get strong.” Seamus Finnigan came to Hermione's rescue. Hunters are always rougher to play against than everyone else. “Thanks, Seamus," Harry said with bitter irony. I helped myself to a full plate and ate quickly. After thinking about it, he took a couple of sausages and put them on Harry's plate. “Eat up, buddy. I won't let you out of the table until you've had breakfast.” Wood nodded in agreement. After making sure that this bespectacled man ate at least something, my friend and I went to the stands. Harry and the team went to the locker room. By eleven o'clock, the stadium was packed- it seemed like the whole school had gathered here. Many of them had binoculars in their hands. The stands were located high above the ground, but, nevertheless, it was sometimes difficult to see what was happening in the sky from them. If the main team plays at an altitude of twenty to twenty-five meters, then the hunters sometimes rise to fifty and dive to the ground. Hermione, Neville, Seamus, and Dean, a fan of West Ham football club, sat in the top row. To give Harry a pleasant surprise, we unfurled a huge banner made from the sheet that the Skabers had mutilated. "Potter's captaincy" was written on the banner. And Dean, who could draw well, painted a huge lion on the banner, the emblem of the Gryffindor faculty. When we unfolded the canvas, Hermione whispered something under her breath, and the letters and the drawing began to shimmer in different colors. Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room. Madame Hooch refereed the match. She stood in the center of the field, holding a broom in her hands and waiting for the teams to line up opposite each other. “So, we need a beautiful and fair game. From each and every one of you," she said, gesturing for everyone to come closer. She did not address all the players, but personally to the captain of the Slytherin national team, sixth-year Marcus Flint. Flint looks like he had trolls in his family. Pure-blooded wizards have a problem with looks in general. Too often we marry our relatives. Therefore, old families periodically marry Muggle-borns. Take Harry's mom too. “Please get on your brooms.” Hooch ordered. Harry climbed onto his Nimbus 2000. Madam Hooch forcefully blew the silver whistle and soared high into the air with the fourteen players. The match has started. The twins' friend Lee Jordan's sonorous voice could be heard from the commentator's podium. The match has started. The twins' friend Lee Jordan's sonorous voice could be heard from the commentator's podium. “...And now the quaffle is in the hands of Angelina Johnson from Gryffindor. This girl is a great hunter, and, by the way, she is, among other things, very attractive...” “JORDAN!” Professor McGonagall raised her voice, having deliberately sat next to the match commentator. She knew perfectly well that Jordan often gets carried away, so she decided to control him. “I'm sorry, Professor," he corrected himself. “So, Angelina makes a great maneuver, bypasses her rivals, Alicia Spinnet's accurate pass is Oliver Wood's find, last year she was just a backup, - again a pass to Johnson and... No, the ball was intercepted by the Slytherin team. Marcus Flint, the captain of the team, is making a leap forward. Flint soars into the sky like an eagle, now he's going to throw the ball... No, in a fantastic jump, Goalkeeper Wood intercepts the ball, and Gryffindor launches a counterattack. Katie Bell is a hunter with the ball, she superbly circles Flint from the right, soars over the field and.. Oh, what bad luck... It must hurt a lot to get hit in the back of the head with a bludger. The Slytherin team has the ball, Adrian Pusey flies to the opponent's goal, but he is stopped by the second bludger... It seems that Fred Weasley sent the ball to Pusey, although it might have been George, because they are so difficult to distinguish... In any case, the Gryffindor beaters did their best. Johnson has the ball in her hands, there is no one in front of her, and she rushes forward... What a flight!.. She dodges the speeding bludger... She's right in front of the gate... Come on, Angelina!.. Goalkeeper Bletchley makes a shot, misses... A GOAL! Gryffindor opens the account! The applause of the Gryffindor national team fans and the moans and howls of Slytherin fans filled the cold air, raising its temperature with their emotions. “Hey, you guys up there, move over!” It reached me and Hermione. "Hagrid!” Wow, I thought he wasn't coming. Hermione and I made room for our classmates, and Hagrid struggled into the vacant seat. “At first, I watched the game from my hut,” He said, patting the huge binoculars hanging around his neck. “But everything is completely different here at the stadium, yes! The crowd is all around again, everyone is sick. The Snitch hasn't appeared yet, has it?” “No," I shook my head. "Harry hasn't had a job yet.” “At least I'm not in trouble yet, that's not bad.” Hagrid raised the binoculars to his eyes, staring at the tiny dot in the sky that was Harry Potter. When Angelina opened the account, Harry described several circles over the field. A few seconds later, he dodged a black ball that resembled a ball, and at the same time, Fred Weasley rushed after him. Fred sent a bludger towards Marcus Flint with a powerful blow. “The Slytherin team has the ball," Lee Jordan commented on what was happening in the air. “Hunter Pusey dodges a bludger, another one, bypasses the Weasley twins and Katie Bell and rushes to. Wait, isn't that a Snitch?” A loud whisper ran through the crowd of spectators, Adrian Pusey dropped the quaffle that had ceased to interest him and, looking back, began to scan the sky in search of a golden ball that suddenly whistled past his left ear. Harry swooped down sharply. Slytherin team seeker Terence Higgs also saw the Snitch. He and Harry rushed towards him at the same time, and all the hunters froze in the air, forgetting about their ball and intently watching Harry and Higgs compete in agility and speed. Harry was faster than Higgs. And... BOOM! From the stands, there was an indignant roar from the Gryffindor fans - Marcus Flint, as if by accident, crashed into Harry at full speed, and he flew away, clinging to a broom and thinking only about how to stay in the air. “Violation!” it came from the stands. It's good that the brooms have a protective field and you still have to try to fall off it. Madam Trick stopped the game with a whistle and, after making a strict suggestion to Flint, awarded a free kick towards the Slytherin goal. As for the snitch, when there was a commotion on the field, the golden ball, as expected, disappeared in an unknown direction. “Kick him off the field, Referee!” Dean Thomas shouted from the podium, still not calming down. “Give him a red card!” This is normal for professional Quidditch, although Slytherin plays a bit dirty. “Dean, you've probably forgotten that you're not at your favorite football game,” I reminded him. In Quidditch, you don't get kicked off the field. By the way, what is a red card?” To my surprise, Hagrid took Dean's side. “So they need to change the rules, yes! After all, this Flint could easily knock Harry to the ground!” That's the order of the day. Although they usually try to shoot down hunters with bludgers. Or they lure each other to the ground with feints. Commentator Lee Jordan, knowing full well that he must be dispassionate, nevertheless could not resist stating his position. “So, after an obvious, deliberate and therefore dishonest and disgusting violation...” “Jordan!” Professor McGonagall snarled. “I mean," Jordan corrected himself, "after this blatant and disgusting forbidden act…” “Jordan, I'm warning you...” McGonagall interrupted him. “Good, good. So, Flint almost killed Harry Potter's Gryffindor seeker, but without a doubt, this can happen to anyone.” Jordan's words were laced with undisguised irony, but there was nothing Professor McGonagall could do about it. “Gryffindor takes a free kick, Spinnet takes it, she passes it back, Gryffindor still has the ball, and...” Lee continued to comment on the game. “Slytherin has the ball... Flint misses the ball, it ends up at the Spinner... Spinnet makes a pass to Bell... Bell gets hit hard in the face with a bludger, hopefully the bludger broke her nose... Just kidding, just kidding, Professor... Slytherin throws the ball. Oh, no...” The Slytherin fans applauded in unison. Everyone's attention was focused on the game. “I don't understand what Harry is doing there. What's he thinking, huh?” Hagrid muttered, watching Harry through the binoculars. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he's not driving the broom, she's driving it... No, he can't...” Suddenly, someone shouted loudly and drew attention to Harry, and all eyes turned to him. His broom turned sharply in the air, then again, but he barely held on to it. And then the whole stadium gasped. The broom suddenly jumped, tilted, and finally threw Harry off. Now he was hanging from a broom, one hand gripping the handle. So-o, the field went down. Did they break his broom? I hope they catch him if he falls. “Did something happen to her when Flint crashed into him?” Seamus whispered. No, it shouldn't be like that," said Hagrid in a trembling voice. “Nothing bad can happen to a broom like that, unless there's Dark Magic involved, and strong magic at that.” The kid can't do that with a Nimbus. Hearing these words, Hermione snatched the binoculars from Hagrid, but instead of looking at Harry, she pointed it at the crowd of spectators, peering intently at her. “What are you doing?” I groaned, feeling the blood drain from my face. If he falls from such a height, he may die or be injured. “I knew it," said Hermione, "Snape, look." I grabbed the binoculars. Snape was sitting on the podium directly in front of us. His gaze was focused on Harry, and he was muttering incessantly to himself. “He's bewitching a broom," Hermione explained. “So what do we do?” “Leave it to me.” Before I could say anything, Hermione disappeared. It looks like we can only wait. I turned the binoculars back on Harry. The broom was vibrating so violently that it was clear that he would not be hanging on it for long. The audience jumped to their feet and gaped in horror at what was happening. My brothers rushed to Harry's aid, hoping to reach out to him and drag him onto one of their brooms. But nothing worked - as soon as they got within a suitable distance, the broom would soar up sharply. The twins dropped down a bit and circled underneath Harry, obviously hoping to catch him when he started to fall. Meanwhile, Marcus Flint grabbed the ball and threw it into the Gryffindor ring five times in a row, taking advantage of the fact that no one was looking at him. “Come on, Hermione," I whispered. She ran across the stadium to Snape, and after a while everything stopped. Harry suddenly managed to climb onto the broom. The UV field is working. “Neville, you can open your eyes!” I shouted. Neville had been sitting with his face buried in Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes, crying loudly. Judge Hooch did not stop the game, the game stopped on its own, but still no one understood why Harry, having climbed on the broom, suddenly swooped down. The attention of the entire stadium was still focused on him, so everyone could clearly see how he suddenly raised his hand to his mouth, as if he was about to vomit. Harry leveled the broom near the ground, rolled off it, falling to all fours, coughed, and something flashed in his hand. “I've caught the Snitch!” He shouted loudly, holding the golden ball high above his head. The game ended in complete confusion. “He didn't catch it, he almost swallowed it,” Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but no one was listening to him, because it didn't matter, because Harry hadn't broken the rules of the game. Lee Jordan happily shouted the result into the microphone: the Gryffindor team won with a score of 170:60. Immediately after Harry showed everyone the golden ball he had caught, Hermione, Hagrid, and I took him to Hagrid's hut. And now he was sitting in it and drinking strong tea. We were still reeling from the experience, especially Harry. But the herbal tea has already begun to take effect. I inhaled the soothing scent of valerian and took a sip from the cup. “It's all Snape," I explained fervently to Harry. Hermione and I saw everything. He looked at you without taking his eyes off you and whispered incantations. “Nonsense," said Hagrid indignantly, who, when strange things began to happen to Harry, was watching him so intently that he did not hear what Hermione and I were whispering on the podium, and did not notice that Hermione had gone somewhere. “Why would Snape do such a thing?” Harry, Hermione, and I looked at each other, wondering if we should tell Hagrid the truth. “I've learned something about him” Harry informed Hagrid that he was trying to get past a three-headed dog on Halloween. “The dog bit him. We think he was trying to steal what this dog is guarding.” Hagrid dropped the teapot in surprise. “How did you find out about Fluffy?” He asked when he could speak again. “About Fluffy?” “Well, yes, it's my puppy. I bought it from a... uh... The Greek guys, we met last year... well... in a bar,” Hagrid explained. “And then I lent the Fluffy to Dumbledore to guard it...” What a puppy. Although, considering Hagrid's size, it suits him. But taking Cerberus to school?! Was the principal even thinking about the students? We're not the only ones who broke into the forbidden corridor. “What?” Harry asked quickly. “All right, stop asking me questions here," muttered Hagrid. “It's a secret. The most secret secret, do you understand?” “But Snape tried to steal this thing," Harry persisted. “Nonsense," Hagrid waved him off, "Snape is a teacher at Hogwarts School. He wouldn't do anything like that in his life.” “Then why did he try to kill Harry?” Hermione cried. It seems that after everything that happened today, she has radically changed her view of Snape, whom she defended against the accusations of Harry and me yesterday. I know what curses are, Hagrid. I've read all about them and I can immediately understand when someone is trying to curse something! In order to cast a spell, eye contact is needed, and Snape did not take his eyes off Harry, did not even blink once. I was watching him through binoculars, and then I saw when I crept up on him! And I'm telling you, it's not true! Hagrid blurted out, looking flustered. I don't know what happened to Harry's broom, but Snape would never do something like that to try to kill a student! Anyway, you three, listen up.: You're meddling in things that don't concern you at all, yes! You'd better forget about the Cannon and forget about what it's guarding, too. This thing only concerns Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel... Yeah!" said Harry, pleased. So someone named Nicholas Flamel is involved, right? Hagrid looked terribly angry with himself. But he couldn't change anything.