Boy's Dorm

The rational part of Cliffs brain, though it really was the minority, felt an obligation to refute Brian's claims that he would best Charlie. Charlie was almost an uncle to him, as the Weasley family was close to his own, and even Harry Potter had been simply compared to Charlie, never actually claimed to be better. However, these brief waves of logic never lasted long within Cliff.

"Definitely!" he said, grinning widely. He was still standing on his bed so, with the grace of a hippopotamus, he flopped backwards, landing perfectly on his back. He put his hands behind his heads and kicked his shoes off, one landing halfway across the room and another hitting an incoming Gryffindor boy square in the back of the head. "Sorry, Greg!" The boy shook his head, scowled, gave Cliff a choice finger, and left.

Cliff shrugged indifferently and looked over at Brian. "A Firebolt!" He propped himself up on an elbow, whistling. "You realize girls are going to go nuts, right?" he smirked.