Invisible: the Prisoner of Azkaban

"Use your own eyes."

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Next day, Lily finds out that a murder had taken place in the Gryffindor common room the previous evening. Crookshanks had allegedly eaten Scabbers. Ron and Hermione will never speak again. But that's not Lily's problem, nor is she concerned about it like Harry.

Unfortunately for her though, in a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry persuades him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he can have a go on the Firebolt after they've finished. This does seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment, so they set off for the Quidditch pitch together.

"How come you've never offered me a try on your Firebolt?" Lily asks in a hushed tone, glancing at Ron, who is picking his nose a few steps behind them.

Harry looks at her for a moment, then turns away and shrugs.

"You never seemed interested in the shop. You still don't seem interested in it."

"You're right," Lily mumbles, wiping her nose out of habit.

"I need to stop doing that." She folds her arms tightly across her chest.

"Don't worry about it, it'll go away soon."

"Yeah. When I die."

"Stop that!" Harry pushes her and Lily falls on her side in the snow.

Harry freezes, watching Lily's face slowly turn from surprise to anger. He takes a step back and bumps into Ron, who didn't notice the exchange.

"What's going on?"

"Run," Harry whispers.

"Run. Now."

Ron takes one look at Harry and Lily and bolts, slipping and stumbling, towards the Quidditch pitch. When Harry looks at Lily again, she's stood up, a giant snowball held tightly in her gloved hand. Harry gulps and turns to run, but the snowball hits him in the back of his head, nearly knocking him down.

"Ow!"

He hisses, rubbing the pain away. Lily walks up to him and nudges his shoulder with hers. They smile at each other and resume their way to the Quidditch pitch, watching Ron running for his life.

Madam Hooch, who is still overseeing Gryffindor practices to keep an eye on Harry, is just as impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else has been. She takes it in her hands before take-off and gives them the benefit of her professional opinion.

"Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail-end - you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated the handle, too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows - a pity they've stopped making them, I learnt to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was, too..."

She continues in this vein for some time, until Oliver says,

"Er, Madam Hooch? Is it okay if Harry has the Firebolt back? We need to practise..."

"Oh, right, here you are, then, Potter. I'll sit over here with Weasley..."

She, Lily and Ron leave the pitch to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathers around Oliver for his final instructions for tomorrow's match.

From the stadium, Lily can't hear whatever Oliver is telling them, but he doesn't look too enthusiastic. He talks for a couple of minutes and at long last, Harry mounts his Firebolt, and kicks off from the ground.