The Charmer (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Chapter Five - Fight or Flight

-Veronica Brunswick-

Many classes passed by quickly throughout the day, and I finally got the chance to catch up with Antony at Lunch.

We talked about everything that had happened since last night — except for what I had found in the river. I looked at his golden eyes curiously as I could tell he was hiding something as well. Something that seemed to be bothering him.

I didn't want to point that out, though.

Then, we had a few more classes.

Herbology was quite... 'interesting'.

Finally, it was 3 o'clock in the afternoon, which meant it was time for flying lessons. It's what I've been looking forward to for the entire day.

Outside the ancient castle-like school, the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors stood in a crowd near the quidditch field.

Soon, Madam Hooch, the professor for flying and the quidditch referee, had arrived.

"Good afternoon, class," Madam Hooch spoke aloud to us, "In two rows, facing each other."

The class quickly separated and began forming two lines.

Madam Hooch flicked her wand. Brooms flew out and each placed themselves beside a student.

"Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone stand to the left side of their broomstick," she instructed, "Stick your right hand over the broom and say, 'Up!'"

"Up!" I, along with the rest of the class, exclaimed. Harry's broomstick shot up into his hand almost immediately.

"Up!" next was the Malfoys.

"Brunswick, you sure you aren't a muggle or anything?" Draco taunted, wearing a smug grin as he watched others struggle.

"Up!" I commanded once again. This time, my broom flew up as well.

I noticed Antony's broomstick went up even though he didn't say a thing.

Before I could voice out my curiosity, there was another 'Up!' and a broomstick shot up, hitting Ron in the face. Several laughs followed.

"Now, once you've got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it. And grip it tight, you don't want to be slipping off one end," Madam Hooch explained. The class began mounting their broomsticks. The professor nodded slightly and continued, "When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, and then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle, 3... 2--"

Suddenly, a Gryffindor boy began flying up uncontrollably. On the ground beside his things was a glass ball, a Remembrall. He must've been the boy that Venetia and Lyra said kept on forgetting things, Neville Longbottom.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch called out.

Lyra muttered, "We weren't supposed to take off yet..."

Neville began soaring away at an increasing speed, "H-Help!!"

Madam Hooch grabbed out her wand and gave it a flick, but Neville's broom took a sharp turn and she missed. He began flying in circles, faster and faster until he was slipping off. Though hanging onto the broom's edge, it took another sharp turn and Neville came falling off.

"Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch hurried over.

"You think he'll be okay?"

"It was a metre high fall. At most, there'll be a twisted ankle or broken wrist."