Azul Black and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 9

I had never believed there would be a person Harry hated more than Dudley Dursley, or someone I hated more that Piers Polkiss, but that was before we met I had met Draco Malfoy. Still, first year Gryffindors only had potions with Slytherins, so we didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, we didn't until I spotted a notice pinned up in the common room that made Gryffindor first years all groan. Flying lessons will be starting on Thursday... and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," Harry said darkly, "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

I patted him on the back, knowing that flying had been what Harry was looking forward to more than anything else.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

I laughed. "First time I ever met him, he went on about how it would be 'a shame if he weren't picked to play for his house'."

And it was true, Draco Malfoy did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seem to end up with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters.

Though he wasn't the only one: the way Seamus told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broom-stick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hand glider on Charley's old broom.Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already gotten into a big argument with Dean, poor Dean got stuck in the same dormitory as Ron and Harry, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry tells me he caught Ron prodding one of Dean's posters of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville, despite his blood status, had never been on a broom in his life. from what i could tell his Gran had never let him near one, and for good reason. I happened to agree with her because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book... not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she had bored us all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville was only too obviously hanging onto every word, causing a few of the Slytherins to snicker. I couldn't blame him, he was in desperate need of anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later. Hermione's lecture was soon interrupted, to everyone's pleasure, by the incoming mail.

Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Draco was quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. He was plenty more than happy to offer me some, and i never did refuse, after all i was still curious about wizard candies and treats, and he seemed to internally rejoice every time i accepted.

Today however i got one letter. it came by a random owl i did not know, probably a school owl, and i couldn't help but wonder how the heck Piers Polkiss sent a letter to me. It had a stamp so it was probably sent via Muggle mail, but somehow ended up here, magic can be very confusing. Harry wanted me to burn it without bothering to read it, but i read it anyway.

Turns out it was just some cheesy love poem he had written on a greasy napkin while he was at Smeltings with Dudley, along with a very hilarious picture of him in uniform asking for my opinion. i laughed and wrote back on a spare piece of parchment i got from Hermione, and a quill i borrowed from Percy.