It wasn’t long before he was crossing that point of no return—where he entered that dark curtain where stones were zipping all around him like comets. Once again his cauldron was ringing like a church bell in the middle of a tornado, hoping that there were more stones luckily finding themselves into that pot.

But it wasn’t long that his shoulders were feeling the effects of the stones constantly bouncing off it. Why were they not given Quidditch protection gear? Oh right, something about a test of craziness. Or manhood. Whatever.