The Cursed Boy - 6 (Y.1)

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Y/N was sitting in one of the chairs in the Common Room, reading one of his books on Defense Against the Dark Arts, usually taught by Professor Quirrell but the latter did a poor job (hard to learn DADA when one's teacher gets scared by all the topics he deals with), so the boy had no choice but to teach himself.

Only a few feet away, Harry and Ron were arguing about the flying classes that would be taking place later in the week, and this morning, all of the Gryffindor first years had discovered some very unpleasant news.

They would have flying lessons with the Slytherins.

And this idea seemed to make Harry more anxious than he already was, he apparently had no desire to make a fool of himself on a broom in front of Draco Malfoy.

Y/N couldn't blame him, he knew how prone Malfoy was to use anything he possibly could to either mock someone or somehow harm them, after all, he'd fallen prey to it himself.

Ever since Draco had a little run-in with Y/N on the train, he'd been telling anyone who cared to listen (Slytherins at best) that L/N, Y/N was a bully who had picked on him for no reason, or that a single sideways glance was enough to make him snap.

And it didn't help matters that the halls were filled with rumors about a certain Gryffindor that looked just like him yelling at a poor girl.

Barely had he joined Hogwarts, Y/N already found ways to build a bad name for himself.

- You don't understand Ron! What about you, Y/N? Harry asked, as all of Ron's words weren't enough to ease his mind. Aren't you afraid of making a fool of yourself in front of Slytherins?
- No. The boy said, slamming his book shut. You're worried over nothing.

Y/N, who was sick of always getting cut off whenever he tried to read something, got up and left the Common Room, he knew why Harry was so worried about getting on a broom, aside from the fact that Malfoy would mess up his reputation at the first opportunity.

Harry was mainly worried about the lack of experience he had, unlike almost everyone else, he, Y/N and even Hermione had never been on a broom before, they didn't even knew a thing about flying.

One only had to listen to the conversations to realize how much most wizards bragged about their skills with a broom, Malfoy had supposedly escaped from Muggles in a helicopter a few times, hence, why he whined so much that he couldn't play for his team.

Seamus Finnegan had spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside, and even Ron always had an old tale about how he nearly flew into a hang glider with the old broom of his brother Charlie.

Anyone who came from a wizarding family had only Quidditch on their lips.

The only one of them who didn't seem as excited as the others was Neville, his grandmother had unsurprisingly forbidden him to ride a broom all these years, knowing how clumsy he was, Y/N couldn't help thinking it was for the best.

Granger was just as nervous as Neville, since flying wasn't something she could learn by heart out of a book, although she did try, she couldn't stop reading every single book on Quidditch or flying.

She'd read to anyone who cared enough to learn the tips in her books.

That's how she had Neville hanging on her every word, he listened to her as she was having breakfast, hoping to find any hint of some tips that'd keep him on his broom.

But Granger had to put her book down when the first owls came into the Great Hall, the likes of Malfoy always had a fresh pack of sweets every week, he only shared those with the Slytherins obviously.

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