The House Next Door

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"Bloody hell, this class is going to kill me!"

"Don't you think you're being a tad dramatic?"

"No." Harry replied. "I don't understand why we have flying, especially on a Monday, Monday's suck."

It was Monday, and it was once again flying class. Madam Hooch instructed them to get into partners because they were going to practise tossing a quaffle back, and forth. Jasper was partnered with Harry.

"You need to try." Jasper told him.

Harry sighed heavily. "You should have partnered up with Ian, I am going to hold you back."

Jasper shook his head. "Not if you try." Harry looked at him nervously. "Just get on the broom."

Harry sighed giving up, and swung his legs so he was sitting on the broomstick. Jasper was floating 3 feet above him holding the quaffle. Harry sat on the broom nervous to push off the ground.

Jasper gave him a smile. "You can do it." He said encouragingly. "You don't have to even go that high."

Madam Hooch walked over to Harry. "Mr. Warbeck." She started. "This is a flying class, now come on."

Harry took a deep breath, and lifted his legs off of the grass, and he started to slowly float up to where Jasper was. "See I knew you could do it!" Jasper told him, happily. 

Harry had his eyes closed. This was terrifying. He didn't like heights, he didn't like flying, why did he have to take this class? What was even the point? It wasn't like he needed flying for every single career.

"I hate this. I hate this. I hate this." Harry kept repeating this phrase over, and over.

Jasper chewed his lip. Harry was only a foot off the ground with his eyes closed. "Harry...you need to open your eyes, you're not that high."

Harry slowly opened his eyes. He was floating ever so slowly higher, and higher. "I - no - I - um - how do I stop?!" He asked fearfully. Some of the other kids were looking toward him with humour on their faces.

"Steady yourself Mr. Warbeck!" Yelled Madam Hooch.

"How do I do that?!" He yelled. He kept floating higher, and higher. Jasper flew up beside him.

"Control your broom. Bring the handle down to go down, and up, to go up." Instructed Madam Hooch from below.

"Okay...okay." Harry said to himself quietly. He tried to direct the broom downwards.

All of sudden a strong wind came blowing the trees ever so slightly, making all the first years wobble on their brooms. Jasper quickly righted himself. Everyone did except...

Harry.

He was surprised by the sudden wind, and got knocked off his broom. Unfortunately he was not only a foot off the ground, during his time up in the air, he slowly had gotten higher, and higher, so he now was falling from 10 feet in the air.

Which sure, it isn't the highest you could have gone, but it spooked him. It was all so sudden, one moment he was on the broom the next he was falling, he was sure these were going to be his last moments. His falling triggered many thoughts, and familiar feelings from the first time he flew, and that had ended badly, just as this was. Harry felt like he was falling in slow motion. He could see the ground coming closer, and closer....

It was the early evening, and Harry had snuck out of the house to go to his treehouse as he called it. It was a little wooden house up in a tree that his father had built. It had become one of Harry's favourite spots to do things. Read, write, draw, just imagine anything.

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