The Cowardly Lion (Book 1)

6: Of Broomsticks and Remembralls

Despite Harry's offers of skiving off class, Draco refused to miss their flying lesson, and as Ron told anybody who would listen about the time he'd nearly hit a hang glider with his brother Charlie's old broom, and Finnigan reminded everyone how he seemed to have spent nearly half of his childhood zipping round the countryside on a broom. When he'd been pressured, Draco had told several people that he had a Comet Two Sixty at home, which was, he explained to Harry, one of the best brooms there was, second only to the newly-released Nimbus Two Thousand. Thomas, on the other hand, was rolling his eyes at everyone's Quidditch talk, and had taken to talking about soccer to Hermione, who would pretend to listen as she read and re-read Quidditch Through the Ages; it seemed she was trying to learn all she could about Quidditch through a book. Draco found this not at all surprising, and took to hanging round with either her, Thomas, or Neville when it came to meals, as they seemed to dislike discussing Quidditch just as much as he did.

Neville, Draco soon found out, had never been let on a broom in his life, which Draco, Ron, and Harry all (privately) agreed seemed to be a wise choice, as Neville struggled to remain upright on the ground. Neither Draco or Harry had gotten a letter since Hagrid's note, something Crabbe had made sure to mention in passing. It took everything Draco had to keep Harry from diving at Crabbe, who merely laughed at him.

"I could've taken him," muttered Harry mutinously.

"Harry, he's humongous," Draco said, just as a barn owl landed in front of Neville. "He would have beat you to a pulp, and trust me - he knows how. When he was training to be my bodyguard, he learned all sorts of methods of fighting."

Neville, sitting across from Draco and Harry, unwrapped the barn owl's package excitedly, pulling out a glass ball. Draco knew exactly what it was; Harry, however, rolled his eyes, clearly still upset about not being able to beat up Crabbe.

"Don't tell me. Neville's got a crystal ball."

"It's a Remembrall!" Neville informed Harry excitedly. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you forgot to do." All of the Muggle-borns looked mildly interested, but everyone from a wizard family merely nodded and started up other conversations. "Look," Neville was saying to Harry, "you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh..." Neville frowned as the Remembrall glowed scarlet, "...you've forgotten something..."

As Neville was trying to remember whatever it was that he'd forgotten, Crabbe passed their table and snatched the Remembrall right out of Neville's hands. Draco stared at his food, not wanting to confront his old friends and ashamed that he couldn't find the courage that Ron and Harry seemingly did have, as they had jumped up, almost excited at the notion of fighting Crabbe ever since Harry had informed Ron (and only Ron, he'd assured Draco) of Crabbe's bullying.

"What's going on?" Draco had never been so happy to hear Professor McGonagall's voice, and Neville, who seemed to be uneasy about confrontation as well, was quick to respond.

"Crabbe's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Clearly unhappy at being foiled, Crabbe dropped the Remembrall back in front of Neville. "Only looking," he said to Professor McGonagall, who nodded.

The day went by so quickly Draco was sure somebody had a Time-Turner handy. All at once, it was three-thirty in the afternoon, and Harry was reminding Draco that they didn't have to go, if he didn't want to. Ron, on the other hand, looked incredibly excited, as did Finnigan. Neville and Hermione were nearly as white as Draco was, but for completely different reasons.

"It's a wonderful day for flying," Ron said happily to Draco and Harry, evidently not noticing the fear written on Draco's face and the anger on Harry's, for merely bringing up flying. "Clear, breezy - you know, my older brother Charlie used to play for the Gryffindor Quidditch team!"