The Dark Prophecy

The Flying Lesson

***

Things were going extremely well for Harry at Hogwarts so far. He had two great friends, who he had grown remarkably close to over the brief time they had all known each other. The teachers, particularly Snape, all seemed to like him. And he had proven to be very good at most of his lessons, adjusting quickly to his life at Hogwarts.

But then he spotted a notice pinned up in the Slytherin common room that made them him groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday -- and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Out of all the houses, it had to be Gryffindors?" Harry said, his head as they made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, "Why couldn't it be something like Hufflepuff, at least then they'd all just fall off their brooms!"

"Yeah, sadly Gryffindors are pretty good at flying usually," Ron shrugged, "According to my brothers at least."

"Guess we'll just have to push them off their brooms," Malfoy said, unusually optimistic as Harry and Ron both laughed.

"What's got you in a good mood then?" Ron asked, and soon regretted it as Malfoy started a lengthy speech. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told some long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters.

"Right, totally believable," Ron said sarcastically.

"Sorry, you've never flown on a broom!"

"Uh, I have! There was this one time I was flying Charlie's broom, and-" Ron soon began telling the story of the time he almost crashed into a muggle in a hang-glider, and by the time he had finished, they had reached the hall, and the three of them were walking past the Gryffindor table just as a barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. 

He opened it excitedly and showed Seamus 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 smirked, and moved forward, snatching the Remembrall from Neville, and studying it mockingly, "Oh, yes, how interesting!"

Harry rolled his eyes but was grinning, grabbing the Remembrall and tossing it a few feet into the air and catching it, "Leave Longbottom, Draco, he needs this, you know?"

"Yeah, he needs the help," Ron snickered, "Head's too thick to remember things on his own."

A few Gryffindors had stood up by now, some even going as far to pull out their wands. But McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?" 

"Harry's got my Remembrall, Professor." 

Smiling charmingly, Harry slowly dropped the Remembrall back on the table, looking up at McGonagall innocently. "Just looking, Professor," he said, and the three of them left, laughing loudly as soon as they got out earshot of her.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, Draco, and the other Slytherins hurried down the front steps onto 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 toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.