Harry Potter x Reader

First Year - Flying Classes

"How about I throw you off the astronomy tower, we'll see who's the cry baby then?"
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Hi! Welcome back for another chapter of the first book! Because of this chapter, I'd really like to punch Malfoy.. enjoy!
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Harry's POV

I didn't think I could hate anyone as much as Malfoy. I was lucky enough not to deal with him as much until I saw the something pinned on the notice board. Flying classes would start on Thursday and they'd be accompanied by the Slytherins.

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

I'd been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else. (Y/N)'s face drooped as well, but she still seemed excited to attend.

"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."

Malfoy did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the Quidditch teams and told boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters.

But the way Seamus Finnigan told his, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick.

Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom.

Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about football.

(Y/N) said that football was ok, but Quiddich was much better.

It was Thursday and we were having breakfast, when the mail came again.

Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note.

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

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Ron, (Y/N) and I jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle.

At three-thirty that afternoon, the Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson.

When we'd arrived, I saw twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground.

Our teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

I glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.