Atropos → george weasley

xiii. taking flight

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thirteen

taking flight

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By Thursday, Ottilie was willing to admit to herself that she was missing Justin and Ernie. 

It wasn't that she wasn't used to being alone, but she supposed it wasn't so bad when she still lived at home and could see her mother and sister every day.

At Hogwarts, the closest she had to that was Professor Binns. And, while she did enjoy talking to him, it wasn't the same as talking to a real person. Chatting with him was an experience more akin to reading an encyclopedia than talking to a friend.

The most direct human interaction following her confrontation with Snape was the occasional snide comment from Draco or Pansy.

Her mood was consistently unfavorable throughout the week as she stewed in silence, still angry about Snape turning the dungeons into her personal panopticon. And a little bitter towards Ernie and Justin for ignoring her even though she knew she deserved it.

On Thursday afternoon, her spirits were somewhat lifted. It was finally time for first-year flying lessons. It was something she was looking forward to immensely. She'd always dreamed of being capable of flight, even before she knew she was a witch.

Slytherins had flying lessons with Gryffindors. The Slytherins arrived first, standing around on a flat, grassy field between the sloping lawns and the boundary of the forbidden forest. Broomsticks with worn, wooden handles and brittle twigs that stuck out at odd angles were lined in two neat rows on the ground. It was a sunny day, but a cool breeze blew Ottilie's hair around her face, and long blades of grass brushed gently at her sock-clad ankles.

"It really is such a shame first years aren't allowed on the Quidditch teams," Draco said to his captive audience. Nearly everyone was paying rapt attention to him apart from Blaise and Daphne who were whispering and laughing amongst themselves.

Ottilie wished she was also ignoring Draco, but he was speaking so loudly that it was difficult to block him out.

"I do hope the Slytherin team is good. Imagine how frustrating it will be if they're terrible and there's nothing I can do about it," he said. "They should make an exception for me. I've been training since age four. Always testing the limits. Just this summer, I flew high enough that I must have nearly made it into space."

Ottilie couldn't hold in a guffaw. Draco and his audience turned to glare at her.

"You weren't nearly in space, Malfoy. You sound stupid," Ottilie said. "Though, I do believe you'd have a better chance than the rest of us. All the hot air in your head would be a huge advantage."

Draco took a step closer to her. "What makes you so sure I didn't? Can't be that familiar with broomsticks, can you, Mudblood? Or...oh, right, Muggles use them to push around rubbish in their disgusting hovels, don't they? You know, I think I'd quite enjoy watching Muggles clean by hand. Amusing. Like watching an animal in its natural habitat."

The others laughed riotously at this joke. The Gryffindors, who were just arriving, gave Draco uneasy glances.

Since Ottilie had been subjected to Draco's variations on the insult at least once a day for a week and a half by then, it no longer bothered her much.

"You should attempt space flight again today. Perhaps you'll get sucked into a jet engine," Ottilie said through her teeth. "If I'm lucky."

Before Draco could come up with a retort, the teacher arrived. Madam Hooch had short grey hair, and her eyes were an unusual orange-yellow color. She gave the class basic instructions and, soon, everyone was holding their hands over their brooms and crying UP!