In Between Two Worlds (HP/PJO Crossover)

Chapter 29: Busted!

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

I had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else, but now I was kinda dreading it.

"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 certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one. The way Seamus told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. I disagreed. I had played soccer ever since I was three years old. My mom did it to keep me out of the house.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, I felt she'd had a good reason. Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Mione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book--not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday, she bored us all with stupid flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. The only one that listened to her was Neville, who was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later. Everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed us 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 Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. I could tell 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 sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, me, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under our feet as we marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Fred and George told me all about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.