ᴀ ᴅ ʀ ɪ ᴇ ɴ ɴ ᴇ [1]

10. freefall

chapter ten

FREEFALL

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"I NEVER THOUGHT I'D MEET SOMEONE I'd hate more than Dudley," Harry tells me.

"That's a surprise," I say sarcastically. When Harry doesn't elaborate, I wave my hand in front of his eyes, and he jumps. "Earth to Harry. Who?"

"Sorry," he says, and grins. "Three guesses."

"Hmm. . . Draco Malfoy?"

"Spot on."

"Well, be glad he isn't your Potions partener for the rest of the year."

At that moment, Ron hurries over, a look on his face suggesting he has news.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Good or bad news first?" Ron counters.

"Bad," Harry says, and I agree.

"Sorry, mate, but the good news needs to come first," Ron says. "Flying lessons are starting on Thursday."

"Oh! That'll be fun," I exclaim, exchanging an excited look with Harry.

More than anything else, I've been looking forward to learning to fly.

"On the downside, however," Ron continues, "We're with the Slytherins."

Harry groans.

"Typical," he says darkly. "Just what I wanted; to make a fool of myself in front of Malfoy."

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," says 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 does talk about flying a lot. He complains loudly about first-years not being allowed on the house teams, and tells long, boastful stories that always seem to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He's not the only one, though; the way Seamus Finnigan tells it, he's spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron'll tell anyone who'll listen about the time he nearly hit a hang glider.

Everyone from wizarding families talks about Quidditch nonstop. Harry and I, who thought we could never bore of such topics, begin to tire rather quickly. Ron has already had a big argument with Dean Thomas about soccer. Ron can't see what the big excitement about a game with only one ball and rules is. Harry swears he caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of the West Ham soccer team poster, trying to make the players move as they do in wizard photos.

Neville says he has never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother has never let him near one. Harry, Ron and I all agree in thinking she has good reason, as Neville manages to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione Granger is almost as nervous about flying as Neville is. Flying is something you can't learn by heart out of a book - not that Hermione hasn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bores us all stupid with flying tips she's gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville is hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else - including me - is very pleased when Hermione's lecture is interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

A large brown owl lands smoothly in front of Neville, bearing a small parcel from his grandmother. He tears it open excitedly and shows us a glass ball the size of a large marble, filled with a swirling white smoke.