Rowan Haywood

Book 1 : Chapter 7 - Flying Class

I was talking to the Weasley twins when George groaned. "What?" Fred asked before turning around towards the direction that George was looking at. "Look, you have Malfoy on Thursday in Flying lessons." He gagged. "Damn it." I whispered underneath my breath, biting my fingernail unconciously. "Rowan, that's a bad habit." Hermione scolded. I immediately stopped. "OK, mother." I said sarcasticly before getting up. "I'm going to the Quidditch field."

I left and as I went up to the stands, I saw players throwing Quaffles to each other while a beater tried to hit a Bludger at one of the opposite team players. I was so absorbed by Quidditch that before I knew it, it was almost nighttime and the players were getting ready to go back to the castle. I got up and stretched before going back. When I got back, the first thing that I got was a scolding from Hermione. "Do you know what time it is now? Have you even started on your homework?" and so on. "Yes, yes. I won't do it again and I'll do my homework later."

Tomorrow was Thursday, which meant that we were going to have flying lessons(with Slytherins). I mean, I don't really LIKE flying, but I can get through it. Hermione and Neville though, were nervous because you can't fly a broomstick by reading books and Neville has never ridden a broom before neither(his grandmother didn't let him). To be honest, I don't blame her. Neville has had many accidents even when both of his feet on the ground. I took a shower before doing my homework and when I finally finished, it was about 12:00. Yawning, I packed my stuff up before going to sleep. That night, I somehow had no dreams...

"Wake up!"

I opened my eye to see who it was. I immediately covered my face with my blanket but Hermione pulled it from me.

"NOOOOO! Give me 5 more minutes." I whined sleepily.

"OW!" I yelped, getting up.

"Hermione, stop. I'm awake. I'm awake now, so stop pinching my arm."

I immediately changed my clothes and grabbed my bag which contained my books and homework before leaving. At the Great Hall, I talked to Harry and Ron for a bit which Ron was complaining about Malfoy and Snape, which Harry agreed. "I feel like Snape is misunderstood." Both Harry and Ron looked at me like I was crazy. "Did you hit your head on a rock? Snape kept targeting Harry in class and it's obvious that he hates Gryffindors."

"Maybe it's because of his past." I shrugged, giving the both of them a hint.

"Maybe....." Harry said hesitantly.

As we were talking, owls started to come in. while I got a letter from mom, saying that I shouldn't get in trouble too often etc, I saw 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 Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry, Ron, and I jumped to our feet. We were all 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 behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, the Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they 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. I had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. The 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 my broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles, which I wasn't sure if it's supposed to look like. "Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"' "UPF" everyone shouted. Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Mine also immediately jumped into my hand and I looked over at Hermione.

Hermione's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, I thought: there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted while I was trying not to laugh when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -- three -- two --"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle -- twelve feet -- twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and --
　　
WHAM -- a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. "Broken wrist," I heard her mutter. "Come on, boy -- it's all right, up you get.".
　　
She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear." Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?" The other Slytherins joined in. "Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil. "Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Shut up, Pansy. If it wasn't for me, you would've died so stop bulling others." I growled.

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up. "Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find -- how about -- up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak Malfoy called, "Come and get it, Potter!"