fat pony. He pushed up his visor and toasted them with a flagon of mead. 

"Merry — hic — Christmas! Password?" 

"Scurvy cur, " said Ron. 

"And the same to you, sir!" roared Sir Cadogan as the painting swung forward to admit them.

 Harry went straight up to the dormitory, collected the Firebolt and the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had given him for his birthday, brought them downstairs, and tried to find something to do to the Firebolt; however, there were no bent twigs to clip, and the handle was so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish it. He and Ron simply sat admiring it from every angle until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.

 Though Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, Harry had seen her in the common room only once before, and that had been to make a very grave announcement. He and Ron stared at her, both holding the Firebolt. Hermione walked around them, sat down, picked up the nearest book, and hid her face behind it. 

"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter. " 

Harry and Ron looked around at Hermione. They could see her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside down. 

"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?" 

"No, " said Harry blankly. 

"I see ... , " said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."

"W -- what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"