The mail arrived soon after, and Harry was glad that no owl swooped down to him, for once, to give him detention or infirmary directives. Draco, though, got a big package of sweets from home. After a minute's cajoling, he handed some of them out to the other first years. Harry got treacle fudge and munched happily on it; it did wonders for driving the taste of Blue Yuck from his mouth. After they finished breakfast, Draco brought the rest of his sweets back to the dorms, with Crabbe and Goyle alongside him as always, and the rest of the first years made their way to Transfigurations.
Draco and his two "body guards," looking flushed, got there just before the door closed.
"Long trip?" Harry asked as Draco slid into the seat beside him.
"Something like that. I'll show you later." He smirked and took out his quill as McGonagall got started with her lecture.
At 3:30 in the afternoon, the Slytherins traipsed out of the castle, down to a broad expanse of flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, where they were to have their first flying lesson.
Harry eyed the brooms uneasily. None of the Gryffindors had arrived yet, but Madam Hooch, their instructor, was laying the brooms out in a precise line, with about a meter between each one and the next. Teddy, beside him, was looking them over, too, then jerked his head a little at Harry as he strode over to get a closer look.
"School brooms," Teddy said with a sigh, as he gestured to a couple of brooms nearby. "See how some of them have bent or missing bristles? You want to avoid those. That one there, though, it's had some replaced, but the new bristles are at the wrong angle. Not much, but enough it'll tell in the air, make you drift left."
Harry looked at the brooms again, and saw what Teddy meant. "Okay, so that would be a good one, then?" He pointed at the broom three over from where they stood. The brush portion was all the same color, had few straws missing, and they were all in the same direction, with nothing sticking out oddly.
Teddy nodded, with his little smile. "Good eye, Harry. Why don't you claim that one."
Harry did so, and Teddy took a place two farther down. As the Slytherins finished selecting brooms -- Pansy ending up on Harry's left, and Millicent on his right -- the Gryffindors arrived.
It was the first chance Harry had really had to see them, spread out like this. In Herbology, they were crowded around tables in the damp and hot greenhouse, and no one had a chance for socializing. Not that he really wanted to, but he was still hurt by Ron's rejection and somehow hoped they could be friends regardless of House. His Mum had been nice to him, helping him through the barrier at King's Cross, and he thought the twins might be fun to be around, too.
As he watched them, he realized Ron was one of the only Gryffindors who didn't look terribly anxious about this lesson. With all his talk about Quidditch on the train, Harry supposed that made sense. Some of the others, though, looked positively nauseated with fear.
Madam Hooch, who had short gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk, suddenly barked, "Well, what are you waiting for?" at the milling Gryffindors. "Everyone stand by a broom. Come on, hurry up."
They scrambled to obey, and Ron took a broom almost directly across from Harry. He straightened his robes as Madam Hooch started to speak.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," she called, walking past the line, "and say 'Up!'"
"Up!" everyone shouted.
Harry's broom shot into his hand at once, and so did Teddy's, but they were about the only ones whom it worked for on the first try. Some of the brooms were just rolling over, all pathetic, and some were shuddering, but not going upwards even a little. After a few more tries, everyone had a broom in hand, and Madam Hooch was telling them how to mount and then kick off, when one of the Gryffindors – Longbottom? Harry couldn't remember – suddenly rose into the air before she blew her whistle. He looked terrified.
"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted, but he kept going up and up, so fast it was like a rocket, and then he slipped to the side and fell, down, down . . . and hit the ground with a meaty thud, making everyone wince.
"Broken wrist," the instructor muttered as she bent over him where he lay on the grass. "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."
No sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"
Some of the other Slytherins snickered right along with him, but Harry scowled at them. "Shut up, Draco, he was hurt. I'd like to see you do better with a broken wrist."
"What do you care about stupid Longbottom?" Draco asked. "Sticking up for crybabies now, too?" He turned his sneer on Millicent, and she glared back at him.
The blood rushed to Harry's face. "Just because I don't pick on people who don't deserve—"
"Maybe you should've been a Gryffindork, Potter," Zabini mocked. "Then you could stick up for all the losers you wanted from the comfort of your own little tower in the sky."
"Shut up, Zabini," Harry growled. "Remember rule one?"
Zabini scowled back, but kept his mouth closed.
"Oh, hey, look," Draco crowed suddenly. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him." He picked something up and held it high. A glass ball about the size of a marble, it looked like it was full of white smoke, and glittered in the sun.
"Hey, that's Neville's Remembrall!" Ron shouted.
Harry stepped up beside Draco. "Give that here."
"Why should I? Maybe I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. Like up a tree."
"Give it here!"
Draco leapt onto his broomstick and was up in the air, hovering at the height of the nearby trees in seconds. "Well? Come and get it."
Without even thinking, Harry grabbed his broom. Blood pounded in his ears, and he kicked hard against the ground. He soared up, up high, and the wind whipped through his hair as he climbed higher, like he'd been born to be in the air, born to fly. He could do this; it was easy. It was wonderful. After pulling on his broom to go a bit higher, he turned sharply to meet Draco, face to face in mid air. He held out his hand. "Give me that," he said clearly, but in a low voice.
Draco shook his head. His voice was low, too; by unspoken agreement, both of them tried to keep their conversation just between them. "No mercy, remember? Let it go, Harry."
"I won't. The kid was scared and hurt, and he didn't do anything to you or any of us. I won't let you break his present from his Gran, too."
"Suit yourself," Draco said. "But you'll have to catch it."
Harry frowned, and then realized what Draco meant when the blond threw the glass ball high into the air and then streaked back to the ground before Harry could stop him.
As though in slow motion, the ball rose up in the air and then started to fall. Harry leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down -- he gathered speed in a steep dive, racing the ball -- wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching -- he stretched out his hand -- a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.
"MISTER POTTER!"
His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor Snape was hurtling toward him, his great black robes billowing out like bat wings. His black eyes flashed dangerously. Professor McGonagall was hurrying to catch up, her pace no match for Snape's.
Harry got to his feet, trembling.
"Of all the asinine, imbecilic, senseless things to do!" Snape snarled as he came to a halt to loom over Harry. He snatched the Remembrall from Harry's hand, and passed it over to McGonagall without so much as a look in her direction. "You could have broken your fool neck!"