The Odd Potter

The Idiotic Duel

"Hey Potter look at this." came the voice of Draco as he was pointing out their schedule.

Percy walked over to see that on Thursday they had flying with the Gryffindors. They only had two classes together and Percy already knew he was going to embarrass himself with flying lessons.

The two things he could do is make a special request with professor Snape or he can ask his uncle not to smite him as he flies. Both very unlikely to happen so he went with the easier one he prayed to Zeus hopping that he would spare him out of understanding so that Percy could just get through his first year without any troubles. He even explained how he would never have to take the class again after this first year.

"Percy it's time to go!" yelled Draco from across the hall. It was already 3:30 Percy had to go flying.

"I've been practicing all summer. what about you Crabbe, Goyale?" Draco said looking to his left and right he got shaking heads in responses.

"What about you Perseus?" Draco said to the usually tan boy. Who now held a pale face while he walked with them. "I'll be lucky I don't die up there Draco."

He said with a straight face

"Please the teacher would keep you safe and if they don't I'll get my father involved if they can't protect us they shouldn't be here."

All Percy could do was gulp right before they arrived there. The Gryffindors were late except Granger and yet the Slytherins were there ready to start.

"Can't even be bothered to show up. Bet Potter got scared."

Percy wouldn't blame Harry for not showing up Percy was thinking about not showing up either but Draco caught him before he could hide. But he was also disappointed that the rest didn't show up on time like Hermione did he even showed up on time no matter how much he didn't want to.

 It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they 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.

When the Gyrffindors arrived the Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. 

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Percy glanced down at his broom. It was old and looked ready to Snap at a touch.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Percy's broom went straight to his hand it seemed relatively easy. He thought until he saw the other kids. Draco got his broom first try along with Harry. Crabbe hit himself in the face Goyle didn't notice he was standing on his. Grangers just rolled over to the side and Longbottom's didn't even move.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. 

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two –"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and –

WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Percy heard her mutter. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.