𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 • 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺

Flying Lessons

Y/n Pov:

I had never believed he would meet a boy I hated more than the boys who bullied me at the orphanage, but that was before I met Draco Malfoy. 

Still, first-year Ravenclaws only had Charms with the Slytherins, so I didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, I didn't until I spotted a notice pinned up in the Ravenclaw common.

Some lessons were made of only mostly two houses and some members of the other houses learning with them. My first flying lesson was a lesson like that. The two major houses that would learn that Thursday would be Slytherin (unfortunately) and Gryffindor (thankfully). Some students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would attend too.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy." 

We were discussing this new topic at the breakfast table.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. 

Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly.

When he put it that way, soccer didn't seem so exciting.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life because his grandmother had never let him near one. Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book — not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast, on Thursday she gave us flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called QuidditchThrough the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione'slecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail. 

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke. 

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things — this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red — oh..." 

His face fell because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, 

"... you've forgotten something..." 

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. 

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash. 

 "What's going on?" 

 "Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor." 

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table. 

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. 

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, Tom, Theo and I hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under my feet as we marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.