𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 ↪ Hogwarts X Reader

『3』

ᑌᑭ, ᑌᑭ, ᗩᑎᗪ... YOᑌ ᖴEᒪᒪ.

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TRIGGER WARNING

IDIOT (Y/N)❗❗😱

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One of the things (Y/n) dreaded had arrived. Flying lessons were now starting with the Gryffindors. She had never ridden a broom (alone) in her life, her father had gotten her a broom as a birthday present once but she never once felt like trying it out, especially not after her aunt had held her on a broom and accidentally dropped her, resulting in a broken wrist... To this day, it was still stored away somewhere in their house. A few times, she'd been tempted to try it out, yet... she was still very hesitant.

At three-thirty one afternoon, (Y/n), Draco, and all their fellow Slytherins were already outside and waiting for the Gryffindors to arrive. When they did, Madam Hooch impatiently snapped at them to stand by a broom.

(Y/n) grimaced as she looked down at her broom, although it seemed to be in slightly better shape than most brooms here it still seemed to be daring her to so much as try to touch it so that it could pull her up into the sky and shake her off.

She had heard a story from Deimos, her father, that once while in Hogwarts the broom he'd gotten flew off without him wanting it to and he ended up in the Hospital Wing. Of course, nothing the school nurse couldn't fix.

Madam Hooch instructed them to stick their right hands over their brooms, and they all did as told, after which she instructed them this time to say "up." It jumped up but fell backdown right when she thought it had worked. Clicking her tongue, she spoke again.

"UP!" This time, she was successful. She looked over to Draco and saw him grinning at her, so she grinned back albeit not too genuinely. (Y/n) remembered how he'd often boast about being great at flying on brooms and suddenly felt a strong desire to not mess up in front of him.

How embarrassing it would be if she messed up in front of one of the friends she'd had longest. Madam Hooch came around to show them how to mount their moves, correcting Draco a lot and it turned out that he'd been doing it wrong for years... this made her feel loads better than she originally did.

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

She was just about to say one when... Neville happened. Again.

Better him than her, thought (Y/n). He had kicked up off the ground harshly, earning the lovely privilege of getting shouted at by Madam Hooch. Seeing the terrified look at Neville's face, (Y/n) forced down her laughter so that she wouldn't be scolded.

Neville was rising farther and farther into the sky, until... Neville slipped. Stupid Neville. A loud, satisfying crack sounded and Neville was lying facedown on the grass while his broom lazily flew away from its problems, as everybody so wishes they could do. Madam Hooch quickly went to bend over him, looking very pale.

Due to her good hearing, (Y/n) found out that it was a broken wrist that he'd suffered. She helped him up, sharply instructed the first years to wait and not even think of touching their brooms, then left with Neville by her side.