The Story of Ruby Evans - The Beginning (A Harry Potter Fan Fiction) (Rewriting)

Chapter 8 - Three headed doggies are cute

I was enjoying school quite a lot. The lessons weren't all that bad and I had my bezzie with me. It was made better when we came down into the common room and found a notice with the rest of the first years crowded round it. It said flying lessons were starting on Thursday, with Slytherin.

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

"Oh, flyings not that hard. I'm sure you'll be fine Harry. And if Draco laughs at you, I'll give him a smack for you." Harry smiled at me and Hermione frowned at me.

"Yeah, 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."

"He's quite good, but he's not brilliant."

"How do you know?" asked Ron accusingly.

"I play with him when I go to stay; I always win though."

"Why would you stay with the Malfoys?" asked Ron looking shocked and appalled at the thought of staying there.

"Draco's my second cousin," I said, feeling bored of the conversation. Then I walked away, dragging Hermione with me.

Draco was starting to annoy me. In potions and at meals he was always complaining about how first years never get picked for house teams or telling ridiculous stories about him flying which always ended with him nearly being seen by muggles  in helicopters.

In potions he was loudly telling one of these stories while I was trying to concentrate so I snapped, "Oh, shut up, Draco. We both know that didn't happen and you never win when we play quidditch."

He turned red and I went back to my potion feeling quite smug.

Our whole year seemed to be only talking about quidditch. Seamus and Ron were always talking about the time they spent on brooms. Neville's grandmother had never let him on a broom because she thought he was clumsy enough on ground. Hermione was nervous to the point of irritating me because she couldn't learn how to fly by reading a book and she'd never been much good at sport. At breakfast on Thursday, she kept giving everyone flying tips from Quidditch Through the Ages. I told her to shut up, which she didn't do until the post arrived.

I'd had a couple of letters from Uncle Moony and a couple of parcels of sweets from Narcissa Malfoy, which I had shared with the other gryffindor first years. This morning I had a small parcel of chocolate frogs which I put in my bag for later.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed us a glass ball the size of a large marble, which was 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…"

"Well, what's the point if it doesn't tell you what you've forgotten?" I asked. At that moment, Draco, who was passing, snatched the Remembrall out of Neville's hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They looked like they wanted a reason to fight Draco, but Professor McGonagall, can spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, which is super fast. She was there giving the boys a stern look.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Draco scowled and quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.