Nico Di Angelo at Hogwarts (book 1)

Flying

Disclaimer - I do not own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter

Nico's POV

I returned to my mistform body again last night, tied up in a corner, with Annabeth, Grover, and Tyson. It seemed that Geryon had double crossed me, and had intended to barbeque us. He was only a backup, a way to find a soul I could exchange for Bianca's, in case I failed in taking Voldemort's. Percy ended up killing Geryon, but then he insisted I contact Bianca, claiming she had been IMing him. Turns out she was. She told me to stop trying to get her back, and to forgive Percy. After all, holding grudges is dangerous for a child of Hades, or at least that's what she said. It would take more than her pleading to dissuade me from my mission though. She would be happy once I succeeded. Sometimes I wished I could talk to Harry and Ron about it all, but I knew I never could. Speaking of Harry and Ron, it had been a while since I had seen them. I had to sit at the Slytherin table, so I couldn't really see them then, and we only had Potions with the Gryffindors. Even in our free periods, I couldn't see them. I had left with too much homework and not enough time to do it. To make it worse, I couldn't seem to shake Malfoy. Every other second, he was there trying to make my life unbearable. Then, this morning we all woke up to a notice. Flying lessons would begin on Thursday - and Gryffindor would be learning with us. I felt a brief bit of panic, before I found a letter from Hecate reassuring me that I would be safe to fly. Apparently the magical realm was beyond Zeus' sphere of influence. Unfortunately, this notice led to an endless amount of bragging from Malfoy, who seemed to love flying. He would complain loudly about first-years never getting in the house Quidditch teams and tell long, boastful stories, which always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one though, I had caught snippets of broom-related stories from several people in the hallways, like Seamus Finnigan and even Ron. I heard that Hermione had taken out the Quidditch through the Ages book, to read up on the subject, although the Gryffindors appeared to wish she hadn't, as she bored them all stupid with facts.

The post arrived at breakfast, bringing Neville Longbottom a small package, which caught Malfoy's eye. I rolled my eyes, knowing he was about to do something entirely unsophisticated. I saw him snatch the item out of Neville's hand, and Harry and Ron abruptly stood up to defend him. I quickly moved over, more than happy to help them out. The three of us were all 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 my Remembrall, Professor." Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. I nodded to Harry and Ron, before heading back to the Slytherin table.

At three-thirty that afternoon, I hurried down the front steps with the Gryffindors into the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day and the grass rippled under our feet as we marched down the sloping lawn to the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The rest of the Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had told me that Fred and George had said, or rather complained, that the school brooms were horrid: apparently some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. We joined the Slytherins as our teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." I glanced down at my broom, it was old, and looked quite fragile, but it wasn't as bad as Harry's. His broom looked even older and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.