A Changed Lestrange (1-2) (under editing)

6: The Remembrall Record

 Ashton knew none of his kin prior to July, but somehow the only kin he's ever known happens to be the boy he hates the most. Draco Malfoy was little else than a pretentious twit who seemed to be more reliant on his father and believed him to be the be-all and end-all, the way he always went on about him.

Still, the Gryffindors and Slytherins only shared Potions together, so Ashton had to put him with very little of his cousin. Or, at least, he didn't until he spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room which made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday — and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Stupendous," said Ashton sourly to Hermione, who was looking a bit anxious. "Just what I wanted. To fall from five feet on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

He had no intention of wanting to fly, but if he did, he would've liked it so the dust on the brush would rub all over Malfoy's face.

"You don't know that you'll fall," said Hermione, though there was a hint of doubt in her voice that suggested that Ashton was most likely going to plummet to his death by quarter-to four.

Malfoy enjoyed talking about flying a lot. Ashton remembered him complaining loudly about first-years never getting in the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories which always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. Ashton, overhearing these ludicrous claims, wanted to point out to Malfoy that he was most likely a donkey on a piece of wood in comparison to everyone else in the house Quidditch teams, but thought better after his encounter with Snape that cost Gryffindor a good thirty house points. Thankfully, they were only seven points behind second-placed Ravenclaw, so he had Hufflepuff to thank for not being able to claw their way past a house who had first-years mouthing off to professors left, right and centre.

Malfoy wasn't the only one who had been droning about his flying escapades, though; the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent eighty percent of his life on a broomstick. Even Ron Weasley, who'd Ashton assumed had the co-ordination of an armless goblin, would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang-glider on his brother Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who was one of six people in their dormitory, about football. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Ashton had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham football team, trying to make the players move, and thanked the stars that he hadn't brought any of his Arsenal posters with him to Hogwarts.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, mostly because his grandmother wouldn't let him near one — with good reason, Ashton thought, because Neville seemed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both of his feet firmly on the ground.

Hermione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book — not that she hadn't tried. Despite a futile attempt of dissuasion from Ashton, at breakfast on Thursday, she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd got out of a library book called Quidditch through the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the post. 

Ashton was yet to receive a single letter, not that he was surprised — and Malfoy was always quick to notice. His eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.