the magic of ice

afriad

By lunch time all the first years were like a pack of hyper-active hyenas. There was nothing none of the teachers could do to control them for long, not that they could be blamed. Today would be the day they would have their first flying lesson. Of course, all was silent in Potions and Transfiguration, the classes with the strictest teachers. But in the other classes there was always this constant low hum of excited whispering throughout the class. Countless times Professor Sprout had told them to quieten down, but she didn't sound particularly concerned and she chuckled at all her students' excitement.

But not everyone was eagerly awaiting their first flying lesson. Hermione Granger was constantly complaining about how it was not part of the school curriculum and they would be wasting valuable time that could be used for studying and revising all they learnt.

"Oh, loosen up, will you?" Ron said. "You're always studying."

"Well I want to get good grades," Hermione retorted.

Neville Longbottom was another one who did not look forward to learning to fly, but it was not for the same reason as Hermione. He explained to Harry, Ron and Elsa that he had a big fear of heights.

"You'll be fine, Neville," Elsa said reassuringly. "Just listen to everything Madam Hooch says and you won't have to worry."

Neville gave a small grateful smile, but it did little to help him feel less afraid. Elsa couldn't wait for after lunch. All through History of Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts she looked impatiently at the clock, wishing she knew a spell that would fast-forward time. She'd always wanted to be able to fly. Back home she'd stare longingly at the bright-blue spring sky and the birds that soar gracefully across it. She closed her eyes and imagined herself flying through the white fluffy clouds alongside dozens of birds.

"Don't tell me you're still tired," Harry laughed, breaking Elsa out of her reverie.

"I'm not," Elsa grinned. "I'm just daydreaming. There's a difference."

"Uh huh, sure."

"If you two aren't going to drink your pumpkin juice can I have it?" Ron asked.

Less than hour later, Elsa found herself walking towards the Quidditch field with the rest of the Gryffindor first years. By this time she was practically jumping up and down excitedly. She could hardly believe it. She was actually going to learn to fly. It was her lifetime dream to be able to fly. And now she was going to be able to do it. But then she saw the other House they were going to learn to fly with and she groaned. Did they honestly have every lesson with the Slytherins? Elsa wouldn't mind it so much if it weren't for Malfoy. She knew a Queen was not supposed to hate someone so much, but she couldn't help it. Malfoy was the most infuriating person Elsa knew.

"I think it's a stupid rule that first years aren't allowed their own broom," he said to his friends, loud enough for Harry, Ron and Elsa to hear. "I've got one at home, you know. A Comet 290." He grinned smugly at Harry, Ron and Elsa. He put on a voice of mock sympathy. "I do feel sorry for all those who come from Muggle families and have no idea what a broomstick even is...or those who can't afford one for that matter."

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy," Ron yelled, his ears going slightly red. "I bet you're actually terrible at flying. And for your information, I do have a broom."

"Oh really, what type?" Malfoy smirked. "A Shooting Star?"

"Cleansweep Seven," Ron said, and all the Slytherins laughed hysterically.

Elsa clenched her fists tightly, but Harry laid a hand on her arm and shook his head. He didn't like how his friend was called a Mudblood, even though he too had no idea what it was, and he didn't want it to happen again. He stepped forward to face Malfoy.