The Next Generation

A Surprise in the Broom Cupboard

 Albus had been at Hogwarts for several days now, but had still not grown used to the many corridors and unique characteristics of the ancient school. Today was an especially exciting day for the first year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, for they would be taking their first flying lesson! Albus hopped out of bed, rushed to get dressed, and was down at the breakfast table earlier than usual. He took a seat next to his new friend, Liam Finnigan, and dug into the food on the table in front of him. Flying was his second class today. First was Charms with Professor Plotkin, which he headed to after breakfast. The lesson seemed to drag on extra slowly, probably because his mind was on flying and Quidditch. His father had said he was on his house team at Hogwarts and that he had played seeker. Albus secretly hoped one day he would make the team too. He was brought back to the present when Professor Plotkin began to explain today's instructions. They were practicing the levitation charm again, and were accompanied by Ravenclaw house. Nobody but Rose Weasley seemed remotely capable of lifting the feathers with which they were practicing into the air, but nevertheless, the class persisted. All the while, Albus was thinking about what was to come next. Because James had never been keen on flying, he had never gotten a broomstick, and Albus had never gotten to try one out. Despite this, he still enjoyed keeping up with famous Quidditch teams, and asking his father every question about the sport he could think of. After they were told they were to practice the levitation charm for homework, he rushed from the room with an air of excitement, and set out for his first ever flying lesson.

When he arrived, there were already several Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs standing around and chatting, mainly about flying. The instructor was waiting on the field, and there was a pile of brooms on the grass in front of her. When everyone arrived, she blew a whistle and motioned for the class to gather around.

"My name is Madam Pestridge, and I will be your flying instructor," she said. "If you would all stand behind a broom, we can begin." Everyone shuffled to get to a broom, and Madam Pestridge's voice called out again. "It appears we are one broom short, could someone grab a spare from the broom cupboard located just inside and to the left?"

Albus volunteered, and made his way back inside to the location she had described. He opened the door, and stepped inside. As he reached for a broom, his foot bumped into something. His eyes wide in fear as he realized that it was a stiff human hand, which was sticking out from behind a pile of brooms. Was the person... dead? He apprehensively moved the brooms aside to see whose hand it was, and it was none other than Scorpius Malfoy. His face seemed to be frozen somehow, and his hand was outstretched. Albus didn't know what to say or do, but finally he said in a near whisper, "Scorpius? Can you understand me?" No reply. He didn't appear to be dead, but he didn't seem to be quite alive, either. Finally, he propped him up in a more comfortable position, covered him back up with the brooms, and grabbed another broom to take back with him. Before leaving, he uttered "I'll be back," and left.

Albus returned to the Quidditch field, and Madam Pestridge began to speak, although he wasn't listening. "What had happened?" he kept thinking. "And how did Scorpius land himself in that situation?" She had stopped speaking, and now everyone around him was commanding "up" to their brooms, so he figured he'd better follow along. He spoke the word clearly, and the broom zoomed into his hand. Madam Pestridge had noticed, and hurried toward him.

"Well done!" she cried, "well done indeed! Alright, now mount it like I instructed." A bit worried and confused, due to the fact he hadn't been paying attention, he mounted his broom. "Very good, now push off hard from the ground, and once you reach about the height of that tree," she said, pointing, "gently tip the front of the broom forward to come back down to the ground." Albus did as he was told, and lowered back to the ground to receive a round of applause. Madam Pestridge looked really pleased when she said, "now, I think you're ready to try and fly around a bit. Don't get too upset if you don't get it on your first try though, very few first years do." Albus was a bit startled that she wasn't going to give him any instruction on how he was to fly, but was too excited to care. He mounted his broom once more, and took off.

He didn't have any trouble moving in the direction he wanted; all he had to do was guide his broom gently and it obeyed. As he soared through the air, the wind rushing at his face, he forgot for the first time about the incident in the broom cupboard. He was overwhelmed with the most fantastic sensation as he flew through the air above the observing people below, free to go whichever way he pleased. Much too soon, he heard Madam Pestridge's whistle. He zoomed back toward the ground to find many faces smiling at him, and a few frowning.

"Wonderful!" sounded her voice. "I haven't witnessed such talent from a first year since I've started teaching here! Now, for the remainder of class, we shall continue practicing summoning our brooms into the air. And could I have a word with you?" she asked, gesturing toward Albus, who walked toward her. "What's your name?"

"Albus, Albus Potter," he answered.

"Oh my, I should have known! You look distinctly like your father, though I've only ever seen him in pictures, of course. He clearly passed his flying talent on to you, though, dear boy!"

Albus was reminded again of the occurrence on the train, when his dad's face appeared on the chocolate frog card. Madam Pestridge had seen his dad in pictures. But why did his father suddenly appear to be famous or something? He made a mental note to send an owl to his dad, asking about this. Then he remembered the conversion.

"Thanks," he responded to her compliment, his face flushing a pink color.

"I must say, you are much more talented than your brother James. His first time in the air, he crashed into a tree!" she said, chuckling. Albus grinned.

"Now, you must know that this does not happen often. But I've decided that after seeing you flying today, I'll send a note up to our headmistress suggesting you as a future seeker. After all, our current Gryffindor seeker is a seventh year, and we'll need a replacement next year. But don't get your hopes up, because you'll have older and more experienced competition if you'd like to be a seeker. You would like to, right?" Albus nodded. "Alright, then, I'll make sure I get around to that!"

"Thanks, Madam Pestridge, this is great news!" He replied happily. He might become a seeker on the house quidditch team next year! Class ended several minutes later, and Albus left in a much better mood than he'd entered in.