Loki Odinson And The Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 6; Sports and Dueling

(Told from Loki's point of view)

We finally had flying lessons today, and I was dreading it. Who knows, maybe I would excel at flying on a broom, but I highly doubted it. Plus we would be practicing with the slytherins, which meant more of Malfoy. He continued to pester and boast of how incredible he was at flying, and whenever he did, I thought scathingly of how I could beat him to pieces in a duel.

Harry was really angry with having practice with the slytherins. Malfoy surely did boast a whole lot; he told long stories about him on brooms that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping muggles on helicopters.

Some trouble happened during breakfast, when Malfoy tried to take a remembrall from Neville. Professor Mcgonagall put an end to the nonsense as soon as she could, though.

Sometime in the afternoon, the Gryffindors headed down to the courtyard for their first flying lesson. It was a perfect day for flying, clear and breezy. Hermione followed close behind me, babbling about what she had read in a book about Quidditch through the ages. I highly doubted that a book could help you play sports, though.

Twenty one broomsticks and all the Slytherins were waiting at the courtyard when we arrived. Soon the teacher Madam Hooch arrived, who had short gray hair and yellow eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." She barks.

I stood next to a broom beside Harry and Ron.

"Stick your right hand over your broomstick, and say 'Up!'" She tells us.

I didn't understand why we couldn't just lean over and pick up the broom, but I didn't question her. Feeling extremely foolish, I looked at the broom and commanded; "UP!" It moved around on the floor a bit, but didn't rise up.

"Stupid broom." I muttered. I looked over at Harry and Malfoy, who both had their brooms in hand.

"UP!" I yelled louder. It rose up a bit and then fell to the floor again.

"Stupid..." I tried to be calm. "Up." I commanded calmly. It rose calmly and obediently into my hand.

Madam Hooch told us how to mount our brooms without sliding off the end, and it was finally time to take off.

"When I blow my whistle, you will kick off the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet off the ground, and then come straight back down. On three, ready? One... two..."

But Neville took off prematurely as Madam Hooch yelled for him to get back down. He zoomed around for a bit and then landed with an unsettling crack on the ground. Madam Hooch rushed over and bent over him.

"Broken wrist." She muttered. She picked him up and turned to the class.

"None of you move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms on the ground or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'"

And she left the courtyard.

I didn't have any intent of trying out the broomstick at the moment, but in a few minutes I would be bursting with the urge to mount it.

The slytherins burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?" Malfoy laughed.

"Shut up." I snarl.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom, Odinson?" Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl said. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies."

"What do you know about me?" I say scathingly.

"Look, it's that stupid thing Neville's gran sent him." Malfoy drawls. He darts forward and snatches up the remembrall. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Neville to find... how about... up in a tree?"