If there a broom equivalent of a childs rollertoaster, it was definitely the mop.


Patroclus was more than over the underperfomance he was getting from the dripping rag on a stick. Chugging along through the sky at a snails pace was really get on his nerves.

"Go faster!" he cried, pushing the mop onwards, but it seemed as the mophead slowly dried, the mop was just getting slower and slower. Whipping out his wand, Patroclus turned in his seat, and pointed his wand at the mophead, "Aguamenti!" a jet of water erupted from the wand tip, and doused the mophead.

The results were instanteous, the mop gradualy picked up speed, and at least now the wind was fast enough to ruffle the boy's hair.

"Here we go!" Pocketting his wand, Patroclus egged the mop on, and began to do 'fishies' along the pitch, weaving in and out of the other students and their mops.

It may have been faster, but the handling had had no improvement.