The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 12: Flying

After the detention on Monday night, Brandon found himself surrounded by a blonde boy, a curly haired boy, a silent, quiet one and a girl who looked so eager. They rounded him on the sette. They were obviously waiting for him in front of the fire, trying to pretend that they were studying.

"What did he do to you, Bran?" Hermione was the first to speak.

"Did he torture you?" Theodore sounded scared.

"Did he frightened the wits out of you?" Lancelot broke in, and Draco just watched them.

"He did nothing of the sort. He made me do some stuff, and that was it." He really wanted to get back to his room and sleep now, "Look, I just want to go to sleep. I think we should all do." He pushed his way gently and head to his room, the others in tow.

He never said anything about detention for the rest of the week. Snape seemed to be absorbed in his own thoughts, too, and he chose to raise an eyebrow or ignore Brandon, which seemed to suit the boy. The days passed by quickly and before they knew it, the week was done. Brandon sent a letter back home to reassure his family.

The next week, Tuesday, was the first flying lesson, which was taught by a yellow eyed, intimidating woman named Professor Hooch. She was also athletic despite her small frame. Brandon thought she looked smart. They had the said class with the Gryffindors again, much to their annoyance.

The instructions were given and Brandon eyed Ron, who glared at him at every chance the Weasely got, but he didn't mind him, trying to avoid confrontations and trouble.

"Now, hold out your hands and say 'Up'. Command the broom, don't let it command you."

Brandon didn't do it at once. He studied the others; Theodore and Draco had ridden a broom many times before and commanding it was no problem, Lancelot said prior he had a 'huge nausea issue' so he had to say the command thrice and Hermione wobbled in midair before it went to her hand. Ron and many of the Griffs had little problem getting it up, except the Longbottom boy who was trembling as he spoke. Neville was his name, if he remembered clearly, and he was always nervous. The broom smacked the boy in the head and it had to be chased a little before it finally settled on the boy's grip.

Brandon eyed his broom and decided that it should be now or never.

"Up!" At one instant, it went to his hand. The thing was, like his wand, vibrating pleasantly in his hand.

"Now," Madam Hooch continued, "mount the broom and give a little kick to propel yourself and your broom up."

The whole class did as they were told.

"Good! Now, lean forwards a little and grip the broom with both hands. Let it hover." Brandon was overjoyed when it did as instructed.

"Get down, Brockenhurst!" Somebody shouted.

"Oh, Merlin! Get me down! Get me down!" Lancelot, in an instant, was high above the others, and was going higher and higher. He looked terrified when he dared to look down.

"His curls looked like they straightened themselves in fear!" Ron jibed. He was clearly enjoying the young Slytherin looking so scared and the others laughed and even started to chant, 'Curly! Get down!', much to Bran's dislike.

"Calm down, Mr. Brockenhurst. Breathe." The teacher said jn the most soothing voice she could muster. She never saw a wizard so scared as Brockenhurst was.

"No. I don't wa-want..." Lancel was clearly crying and the chanting continued, growing louder. As for Brandon and his friends, they couldn't do anything since Hooch told them to stay back.