Darwinism | hp

005: Embarrassment

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In their second week, flying lessons were announced for Thursday at three thirty - with the Slytherins.

"Typical." Harry said, over breakfast the that morning. "Just what I wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"If you're bad, I'll be worse, Harry." Marilyn said, once again sitting across from them to go over her schedule, working out what needed to be changed to fit alongside the flying lessons. "You know, I had to get surgery on my foot because I walked so badly I warped my bone?"

Ron looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, a rather disgusted look on his face. "You what?"

However, their fear of embarrassment was shared by many of their fellow first years. Hermione was reading 'Quidditch Through the Ages' over and over, Neville holding onto her every word, as neither had ever flown a broomstick, and many other Muggle-borns seemed just as nervous.

The others, however, seemed obsessed. Every person from a wizarding family had insane stories to tell of their time flying brooms - including Malfoy, who apparently kept almost hitting into helicopters. 

Neville received something called a Remembrall at breakfast - a ball that told you if you forgot something, but not what you forgot. Marilyn held it, and the smoke went red, indicating she'd forgotten something, though neither she or Neville could remember what they'd forgotten.

Flying lessons took place on the smooth lawn in front of the Forbidden Forest. Marilyn had a new notebook and binder in her bag - this one for flying, though she wasn't sure if she'd need it. She had a binder and notebook for every subject, and so far it had helped her keep track of everything, even getting homework in early, but she wondered how much flying they would have to do after this class, and if she'd need a binder at all.

Twenty brooms were set in two lines, these ones nothing like the Nimbus 2000 that Marilyn saw in the shop window. These were classic brooms - dirty, ratty, and the twigs kept stabbing her ankles, as she stood alongside it.

Their teacher was Madam Hooch - a woman in Quidditch robes with grey short hair and yellow eyes that somehow looked cool instead of sickening. 

"What are you waiting for?" She questioned, looking at them all. "Step up to your broomstick. Stick your hand over the broom, and say 'up'."

As a chorus of 'up's filled their ears, Marilyn hardly heard her own voice as the broom flew up into her hand instantly, though for others, like Hermione, it simply rolled it to side, or, like Neville, didn't move at all.

Harry, however, smiled brightly at Marilyn, his own broom also in his hand first try, and the pair high-fived over his broom, as Ron's shot up into the air and smacked him in the face.

"Shut up." Ron muttered, though he, as well as Harry and Marylin, was trying to hold in his own laughter, the trio too distracted by each other to notice Malfoy glaring at them.

Next, they were taught how to mount their brooms, since apparently it was very easy to slide off the end, which Marilyn thought was very stupid of her not to think of. She made her way up and down the line, correcting grips and seating, her curt nod to Ron and Marilyn for holding and sitting on it right making pride swell in their chests, and then they had to stop themselves from laughing once again as Malfoy was told he was flying wrong on his broom all his life. 

"Now, on my whistle, I wand all of you to kick off the ground - hard." She told them, holding her whistle. "Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly, and touch back down. On my whistle - three, two-"