Nearly two weeks had passed since Ron and Roger’s altercation outside the locker rooms. Junior has all but forgotten about it until Roger came up to him in the common room and informed him that he and Harry’s race would be that weekend. It took Junior a while to realize that Roger was referring to the incident the day of the Gryffindor match.
“Don’t worry, Potter will be eating the broom bristles from your wake!” Roger boasted. “I’ve made sure of that.”
Junior didn’t quite know what to make of Roger’s statements, and didn’t give much thought to the matter until the morning of the race.
As instructed by Roger, Junior arrived at the big elm on the shore of the Lake Saturday morning. To his surprise, not only was Roger, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Cho as well as both Quidditch teams there waiting for him, and even Madam Hooch.
“Alright, alright… Brankovitch… Potter… please come here,” Madam Hooch ordered as if she were officiating over a game of Quidditch. “I have been asked to officiate to ensure that this race is fair for all parties involved.”
Junior glanced over at Harry, who returned his vacant expression as if to say, “I have no idea what is going on either.”
The two boys with their brooms in hand stepped up before Madam Hooch, flanked by Ron and Davies on either side. Both boys look rather full of themselves as Madam Hooch started to explain the rules.
“First off, both of you are to hand over your brooms.” This confused both boys, as they each thought that they were there for a broom race. They hesitantly handed over their brooms before Madam Hooch continued explaining the rules.
“The parties involved”” It didn’t take long for Harry and Junior to figure out that she was not referring to them, but to Ron and Davies. “”have agreed that in the spirit of fairness, both competitors will be using school issue Cleansweep brooms.”
Junior could see Davies swelling with pride, as no doubt, this was his idea.
“This is to ensure that the winner of this race has done so because of superior skill, and not the speed of the broom that they are riding.”
Junior and Harry took another glimpse at each other as they realized that Ron and Davies had put a lot more thought into this than they would have liked. Junior imagined Ron and Davies arguing over the details for this race for several hours before finally coming to an agreement.
“Next,” chirped Madam Hooch, “I’ll be taking your wands. There will be no spells, curses, or hexing allowed by either competitor.”
“As well as any of the onlookers!” Hermione scowled at Fred and George who gave her their best pretend shocked faces as they both mouthed the words “Who, me?”
“However, all non-magical forms of cheating like bumping, punching, kicking, and biting are allowed,” added Davies.
“The race will consist as thus,” continued Madam Hooch. “The competitors will start with both hands on the elm tree. When I blow my whistle, they will run along the shore to their brooms.” She pointed a short ways down the shore where Junior and Harry saw a pair of Cleansweeps on the ground.
“The competitors will then mount their brooms and do one full lap around the lake. After completing their lap, they will then proceed to Hogsmeade village where they will stop off at the Hog’s Head Tavern and buy a bottle of butterbeer””
“The bottle has to be opened,” interrupted Ron.
“What are you talking about?” snapped Davies. “If they buy it from the Hog’s Head, of course it will be opened. The bartender opens every bottle before he hands them to people.”
“I know that!” quipped Ron. “I just wanted them to know that it was a requirement for the bottle to be opened otherwise what is the point of carrying them?” This statement drew confused looks from Harry and Junior.
Madam Hooch shot the two bickering boys a nasty look before continuing explaining the rules. “Once you have your butterbeers, you are to mount your brooms again and fly back to Hogwarts. When you have reached the castle, you will do one loop around each tower before continuing on to the Quidditch pitch.”
“Just how long is this damn race?” wondered Junior, which is no doubt the exact thing that Harry was thinking.
“When you reach the Quidditch pitch, you will then do ten laps around the stadium before finally landing and touching the base of center ring pole on the north end of the pitch. The first person that touches the pole with the most amount of butterbeer left in his bottle will be declared the winner. These are the rules as agreed upon by both sides. Are there any questions?”
Junior and Harry looked at each other yet again before looking back at Madam Hooch, and shaking their heads in dissent.
“Very well then… Potter… Brankovitch… Shake hands. I want a clean and hard fought race. You may take your positions at the tree.”
Junior and Harry did as they were told. As they walked towards the elm, Junior leaned in, and asked, “How did we get ourselves into this?”
“That’s the problem; we didn’t,” replied Harry. “Ron and Davies did.”
The two reluctant competitors reached the tree, and placed both hands on it as Madam Hooch instructed. Junior looked back over his shoulder and saw that everyone including Madam Hooch had moved back to where the brooms were waiting.
“Are the two competitors ready?” shouted Madam Hooch.
Junior gave a wave of his hand, followed by Harry.
“On your marks…” called out Madam Hooch. “Get set…”
Junior tensed his muscles as he prepared to spring off of the tree.
Junior pushed off of the tree hard at the sound of Madam Hooch’s whistle. He had a slight lead on Harry as the two boys raced towards their brooms. As they drew nearer, Junior thrust his right hand forward, and yelled “UP!” One of the brooms quickly rose from it position and hovered a few feet off of the ground. Junior leapt into the air, landed on the broom, and took off along the shoreline with Harry close behind. The group of onlookers cheered as the two boys sped around the lake.
Junior still held a slight lead over Harry, but he was catching up fast. Junior bumped into Harry as he pulled along side of him. The two boys jockeyed for position as they neared the far edge of the lake, and went into the first turn. Harry had the inside track on Junior, and pulled into the lead when he kicked off of Junior with his outside leg. Junior was forced to adjust as Harry sped onward.
Back on the shore, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors who had gathered to watch the first leg of the race were cheering wildly. Fred and George were shooting off sparks from their wands while Ron gripped Hermione’s hand tightly, almost afraid to watch.
The lead changed several times as the two boys sped around the lake. As they approached the group of onlookers still gathered at the starting point, Junior had once again taken the lead. The Ravenclaws cheered as he swooped over their heads with Harry hot on his tail. Junior and Harry now headed in the direction of Hogsmeade. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors continued to cheer until the two racers were just specks on the horizon.
“Come on, everyone!” shouted Fred.
“Let’s get to the stadium for the finish before all the good seats are gone!” added George.
Before he could get too far ahead of her, Hermione grabbed Ron by the arm. “What does he mean before all the good seats are gone?”
“Well, a few people heard about the race and said that they wanted to come and watch.” Ron squeaked as Hermione scowled at him.
“What do you mean a few people?” glared Hermione.
Ron hated when she got like this. It made him wish that he could somehow shrink himself, and hide in a mouse hole or something. “Umm… the whole school.”
“Ronald Weasley!”
“And the Daily Prophet,” Ron said meekly.
“Ronald!”
“And a newspaper from America.”
“RON!”
Junior and Harry were now speeding towards Hogsmeade. Harry was now sporting a bloody nose from an errant elbow while the two boys jostled for position. Harry was surprised at how fast Junior was. If it weren’t for the fact that they had their brooms taken away before the race, he would have thought that Junior was on a Nimbus, or even a Firebolt; anything but the used school brooms that they were currently racing with.
The two racers descended sharply as they approached Hogsmeade. They sped past the train station jarring the sleeping conductor awake and causing him to fall out of the chair he was sitting in.
They blew past the Three Broomsticks swerving and weaving their way through the crowded main street. Ambrosius Flume peered out his front window as they rocketed by Honeydukes Sweetshop. Harry was able to pull into the lead when Junior had to swerve to avoid a cart full of dungbombs, which were being delivered to Zonko’s Joke Shop.
Junior regained the lead however when Harry (having not been to the Hog’s Head before) almost missed the side street where the tavern was located. Junior was the first to pull up to the front of the tavern, and jumped off of his broom. Junior already had his hand on the door when Harry pulled up next to Junior’s broom.
Junior ran into the tavern. “One Butterbeer!” Junior demanded as he ran up to the bar.
“Make that two!” shouted Harry who just entered the tavern.
Junior dropped four Sickles on the bar before grabbing his bottle and running out the door. “This round is on me!”
Harry came out of the Hog’s Head just in time to see Junior hop on his broom and speed off. Harry quickly grabbed his broom and flew off in hot pursuit of Junior. Junior flew down the side street, and quickly made the turn onto the main street Hogsmeade.
Harry desperately needed to catch up to Junior whose lead was increasing by the second. Harry saw Junior fly past the Three Broomsticks, and realized that Junior made the mistake of returning to the castle via the same route he used to get here. Harry smiled and made a sharp turn just before the Three Broomsticks, and flew towards the Shrieking Shack.
Junior looked back, certain that Harry was probably right on his tail. But when he didn’t see Harry, Junior wondered where he had gone. He knew that he could not be that far ahead, and then saw Harry flying towards the Shrieking Shack.
“SHIT!” Junior grunted. “STUPID! STUPID!” he thought to himself as he shook his head while quickly making a sharp turn to catch up to Harry.
Junior was able to make up ground on Harry and was roughly two broomsticks lengths behind him. They were now flying along the shoreline when the Whomping Willow came into view. They approached the castle, and Harry rounded the nearest tower followed by Junior.
As they came out of each turn, Junior could feel drops of liquid hitting him in the face. For a split second, he thought that it was starting to rain when he realized that it was in fact butterbeer that was spilling from Harry’s bottle every time he made a turn. Junior looked down and saw this his bottle was slowly emptying as the race progressed.
Harry held the lead while they progressed their way around the various towers of the castle. Harry had already started rounding the final tower when Junior took the inside track beside him, and pushed off of him with his outside leg to take the lead. Harry scowled at Junior as more of the butterbeer in his bottle spilled out.
As Junior drew closer to the pitch, he thought that he could hear a noise coming from the stadium. Junior and Harry flew over the top of the stadium to find that cheering students filled every seat. As they went into the first lap around the stadium, Junior looked down to see that the faculty seats were filled as well. Even Dumbledore was there. Next to him, Junior saw Flitwick jumping around on his stubby legs waving a Ravenclaw banner.
Harry had pulled up beside Junior and the two bumped furiously trying and knock the other off course and take the lead. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Junior saw a Bludger hurling at them. The two boys split apart just in time to avoid flying ball, causing a large amount of butterbeer to spill from each of their bottles. Junior looked up, and, circling above them along with Madam Hooch, were two Beaters, one in a Gryffindor uniform, and the other in a Ravenclaw one.
Lee Jordan’s voice then rang over the loudspeaker. “Oooh and a near miss by the Bludger hit by Gryffindor Beater Fred Weasley!” Jordan’s voice echoed. “No doubt the two racers were not expecting the last minute addition of two beaters sending a Bludger flying at them during this stage of the race. They will have to stay alert, and keep an eye out for Bludgers aside from worrying about their opponent.”
“Are they fricking nuts?” Junior thought furiously. “As if this whole race isn’t bad enough, now they are hurling Bludgers at us!”
Flash powder sparked as the two boys flew past the designated press seats filled with reporters who had come to cover the event. With the famous Harry Potter at school, Junior had all but forgotten what it was like to have press following him. Junior soon realized that he didn’t have time worry about the press when Harry bumped into him again causing more of the liquid in his bottle to spill out over the crowd.
The crowd grew louder with the completion of each lap. The cheering was easily as loud if not louder than the school Quidditch matches that were usually held in the stadium. They were rounding the turn into their final lap. Harry had a slight lead on Junior, entering the second turn.
“Two more turns!” Junior thought to himself as he and Harry swerved to avoid a Bludger. Junior was not expecting the race to be as close at it was. Harry really was a very talented flyer. He had to do something. The smaller boy was just too fast. Try as he might, Junior was not able to hold the lead. As fast as he was though, Harry was rather aggressive on a broom, constantly bumping into Junior as they raced side-by-side.
Junior tried to time Harry’s bumps. Finally, and they entered the final turn, Harry tried to make a move to bump Junior. But just as he was about to make contact, Junior went into a barrel roll, flipping up and over Harry’s head, and bumping him on the opposite side. This sent Harry straying off course, and allowed Junior to rocket into the lead.
Harry quickly was back on course, and had caught up with Junior going into the final turn. They were in the home stretch; the two boys now sped towards the North end of the pitch. The center pole their target. Junior and Harry hopped up and mounted their brooms like surfboards. The crowd cheered as Junior and Harry, bottles in hand, leapt off of their brooms, flying unassisted towards the pole. They each wrapped their arms around the pole, and slid down it, landing at the base at the exact same time.
Madam Hooch quickly dropped down from her broom, and blew her whistle. But who won?
Ron, Hermione, Roger, and Cho ran towards Junior and Harry. Ron and Roger immediately started arguing about who was the winner.
“Harry won! He touched the pole first!” exclaimed Ron.
“Yeah, but the rule states that who ever touched the base first, and Junior made it down the pole before Harry! JUNIOR IS THE WINNER!” shouted Davies.
“Aren’t you two forgetting something?” spoke Hermione. “We have to check the bottles to see who has the most liquid.”
“That’s right!” Ron and Roger said in unison.
Harry held up his bottle to show that he had still had almost two ounces of butterbeer in his bottle. Now, everyone looked to Junior who held up an empty bottle. Ron was about to raise Harry’s hand and proclaim him the winner when Junior, with a sly grin on his face, tapped Ron on the shoulder. Ron faced Junior and watched as he lifted his bottle to his lips, and emptied nearly three ounces of butterbeer that he had been holding in his mouth since he left Hogsmeade back into the bottle. Madam Hooch took the two bottles, and held them next to each other.
“Brankovitch is the winner!” declared Madam Hooch.
The Ravenclaws in the stands broke into wild cheers, and stormed onto the pitch. Before celebrating students overtook them, Harry went up to Junior and shook his hand.
“I owe you a Butterbeer!” Harry tried to shout over the growing crowd.
“No way, Davies and Weasley are definitely buying!” replied Junior before the two racers pulled each other into a congratulatory hug.
Before Harry knew it, Junior was being pulled away from him, and was aloft by his fellow Ravenclaws. As he was being carried off the pitch like a hero, Junior looked up towards the faculty seats, and saw the teachers giving him a standing ovation. Flitwick with his banner still waving was wiping tears of joy from his eyes. He almost glowed as he beamed with pride.
Junior later learned that he and Harry were both awarded fifty points for their participation in the race, and Junior got another ten points for winning. That night was a great night of frivolity for the Ravenclaws as they celebrated the victory of Hogwarts Greatest Flyer.
The next day, on the other side of the Atlantic, the team members of the Fitchburg Finches were in their locker room cleaning up after another hard day of practice.
“Hey, Maximus!” called out a large burly man as he walked towards the team captain. “Your kid is in the paper.”
“What are you talking about?” inquired Maximus.
“Here, take a look.” The burly man handed Maximus the paper.
He opened it up to find a moving picture of his son being held up on the shoulders of his housemates. The headline above the picture read: “American Wins the First Annual Hogwarts Butterbeer Race.”
Maximus couldn’t believe it. He read the accompanying article.
Maximus Brankovitch IV, son of American National Quidditch Team captain Maximus Brankovitch III, defeated equally notable Harry Potter yesterday in the first ever Hogwarts Butterbeer Race. The contest consisted of a several kilometer race to a neighboring village where the competitors were to purchase a butterbeer, and fly with it back to the school without spilling all of it’s contents.
When asked if he would be accepting an invitation to the American National Team tryouts in April, Junior (as he is referred to by his friends) said that he was flattered to be considered, but that he would forgo the tryouts in favor of completing his schooling at Hogwarts.
Continued on Page 7
“Too bad,” said the burly man. “We could have really used his speed at Chaser.”
“True, but it’s all for the best. Besides, my wife would have killed me if I pulled him out of school for the tryouts anyway.” Maximus chuckled as he swelled with pride for his son.
An American Tale by NctnlBst
Chapter Notes: Once again, many thanks to my Beta Reader spazticapple.