𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝔹𝕠𝕠𝕜 1)

𝓕𝓵𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰

3rd Pov

The students stand in a cluster of gryffindors and slytherins. Harry and Y/n stand opposite each other. Between them, there is a long line of broomsticks. Madam Hooch, a rangy witch with short grey hair and hawk-like eyes, stands between the two groups.

"Welcome to your first Flying Lesson. Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone step up to a broomstick. Come now. Hurry up."

The students take a step forward.

"Stick out your right hand, Over the broom, and say 'Up'!"

Shouts of 'Up!' ring in the cold afternoon air. Though they barely whisper the command, Harry and Y/n’s brooms snap into their hands. Hermione's simply rolls over. Ron's flies up and cracks him in the nose.

"Now. Once you’ve got hold of the broom, I want you to mount it. And grip it tight. We don't want you sliding off the end. Your other right hand, Mr. Finnegan. Goodness, boy, what have you done with your eyebrows?"

"Lost 'em, ma'am."-Seamus

"Excuse me, Madam Hooch. Given that a few of us have been on sticks for years, would it not make sense to separate the expert flyers from..."-Draco says glancing at Harry and his cousin. "...the neophytes?"

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, but I’m sure even an expert flyer such as yourself can appreciate the benefits of reacquainting oneself with the basics. Your grip, for example. It's thumb in, not out."

As Malfoy reddens, Harry and Ron share a grin. While Y/n and Hermione roll their eyes.

"Very well. Now when I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground. Hard. Keep your brooms steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle...Three...Two..."-Madam Hooch

Jumping the gun entirely, a nervous Neville shoots straight up into the air, like a cork out of a bottle.

"Mr. Longbottom! Exactly where do you think you're going?"

Clutching desperately to his broom, Neville caroms crazily off a tree, flops upside down, rockets past the other students—who duck—then soars into a mad spiraling climb.

"Come down here this instant!"

"I think he would if could."-Y/n

Neville's pale face peers down, his eyes roll up...

"On your broomstick, Longbottom!"-Rolanda Hooch

Too late. With a giant thud and a nasty crack, Neville hits the pitch. Madame Hooch, Y/n and the Gryffindors rush over.

"Broken wrist. Come on, dear. Up you get. Everyone's to keep their feet on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing. Understand? If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say 'Quidditch.'"

As they go, Harry and Y/n watch Neville's broom sail high over Hagrid's house, where the half-giant himself sits in the front garden, watching with a pair of binoculars. Malfoy scoops Neville's Remembrall from the grass and cackles.

"Did you see his face? Perhaps if the great lump had given this a squeeze, he would've remembered to fall on his fat arse."

"Give it here, Malfoy."
"Give it here, Draco."

"No, I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about up a tree?"

Malfoy slings a leg over his broom and kicks into the air.

"What's the matter, Potter? Y/n? A bit beyond your reach?"

Y/n and Harry glower up at Malfoy, then grab their brooms.

"Y/n! Harry! No! You heard what Madame Hooch said. Besides you don't even know how to...fly."-Hermione

Y/n gives her an apologetic look and then Harry and Y/n shoot into the sky, so focused that it's a moment before they realize what the others see clearly: they're naturals. Turning their broomsticks sharply, they hover, glaring at Malfoy.

"Give it here, Draco. "-Y/n

"Or we'll knock you off that ruddy broom."-Harry

"Is that so?"-Malfoy

Harry and Y/n shoot forth like javelins, Malfoy just managing to slip their charge. As they whip around, Malfoy glances down at the ground, clearly unnerved. Y/n and Harry simply smile.

"Have it your way, then!"

Malfoy hurls the ball high. As it plummets, Y/n throws herself into a steep dive, Harry right behind her. She catches the remembrall and throws it at Harry who catches it with one hand. They land and the gryffindors cheer for them.

"Harry Potter and Y/n Black!"-Professor Mcgonagall yells with Professor Snape close behind her.

Y/n and Harry's stomachs drop. Malfoy grins hideously.

"Chin up Y/n, Potter. They might let you stay on as Hagrid's assistants."

Harry and Y/n trail silently after Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape.

_______________________
𓂀♡︎❦︎༒︎𖣔✵𓆙𐂃꧁꧂

Professor McGonagall leans into an adjacent classroom.

"Excuse me, Professor Quirrell, could I borrow Wood and Flint for a moment."

Startled, Professor Quirrell jumps, then Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint, two burly fifth-years, emerge and glance curiously at Harry and Y/n.

"Black, Potter, this is Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint. Wood, I've found you a Seeker. And a chaser for you Flint."

_______________________
𓂀♡︎❦︎༒︎𖣔✵𓆙𐂃꧁꧂

Harry, Y/n and Ron walk, buffeted by the stream of students heading for dinner. Hermione and walks a few steps behind.

"Seeker! And chaser! But first years never make the House teams. You must be the youngest Quidditch players in--"-Ron

"--a century."-Harry

"According to McGonagall."-Y/n

Just then, Fred and George descend.

"Well done, Harry. Wood's just told us. Oh, and you too Y/n."-Fred

"Fred and George are on the team too. Beaters."-Ron

"Our job to make sure you don't get bloodied up too bad. Can't make any promises, of course. Rough game, Quidditch."-George

"Brutal. But no one's died in years. Someone will vanish occasionally."-Fred

"But they turn up in a month or two."-George

As the twins dash off, Ron reads Y/n and Harry's troubled face.

"Oh go on Y/n, Harry. Quidditch is great. Best game there is. And you two'll be great too."

"But I've never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?"-Harry

"You won't make a fool of yourself."-Hermione

Ron and Harry turn. They hadn't’even noticed Hermione. Except for Y/n of course who waves at her.

"It's in your blood."

_______________________
𓂀♡︎❦︎༒︎𖣔✵𓆙𐂃꧁꧂

Hermione leads them to a display case. Inside is a history of Quidditch at Hogwarts, with ancient brooms, strange equipment, and various trophies. She points. Etched upon a silver tray, below a gryffindor lion, one name shines :

James Potter. Chaser.

And two others :

Sirius Black, Keeper.

Amelie Rosewood, Seeker.

"Y/n, Harry...you didn't tell me your fathers played quidditch too.

"We...didn't know."-Harry

"Amd my mother. Hagrid told me her name."-Y/n

__________________