Entanglement

Journey from the Toilets

Elena never believed she would meet a boy she hated more than Dudley, but that was before she met Draco Malfoy. Still, first year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. At least, they didn't until they 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.

"Typical," said Elena darkly to Neville. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."
She had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.
"You don't know you'll make a fool of yourself," said Neville reasonably. "Anyway, Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch,maybe that's all talk?"
"Don't beat yourself up, Elena, you'll do great!" Kat spoke, a red headed girl from hufflepuff who was usually around Neville.
"Thanks.."

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Elena felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.
Hermione Granger 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. Elena and Hermione often talked about how they wanted to approach it- flying was the only class Elena was more excited for than Hermione.

At breakfast on Thursday she bored the rest of them all with flying tips she'd got out of a library book called Quidditch through the Ages. Elena had already discussed it with her, so she tuned out now.

Elena hadn't had a letter since Hagrid's note, something Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's 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.
"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things– this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red– oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "...you've forgotten something..."
Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Ron jumped to his feet. He was half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.
"What's going on?"
"Malfoy's got Neville's Remembrall, Professor," Elena calmly said.
Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.
"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Harry, Crabbe, and Goyle behind him.
Ron sat down as Elena frowned- she still couldn't believe Harry was actually hanging around Malfoy.
*
At three thirty that afternoon, Elena, Hermione, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps into the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Elena had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms.
Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Elena glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. "Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say, "Up!""
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Elena's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground and Neville's hadn't moved at all.
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. Elena and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, 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 forwards slightly. On my whistle– three– two–"
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off 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. Elena 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, face down, on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily towards the Forbidden Forest and out of sight.
Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.
"Broken wrist," Elena 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.