"Flying is learning to throw yourself at the ground and miss." -Douglas Adams
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I slipped forward, my hands no longer holding onto the broom. With a shriek, I slipped off, desperately snatching at thin air.
Shit!
But wait. Let me explain.
It was all Potter's fault by the way.
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It was a sunny afternoon in which I was spending the entire day inside. As always. I was reading a book comfortably by the fire, when Potter rudely interrupted me. Meaning, he sat down next to me. So I flipped him the bird and continued reading. Very good book. Old, though. One for the Money. I scrunched up my nose slightly at a particularly… not pleasing passage.
"So, hi." Potter had said conversationally.
"No." I responded, turning a page.
He sat there quietly for a few minutes. I didn't know that was possible for a Potter.
"What's wrong with you?"
I sent him a glare, trying to silence him. It didn't appear to be working. At least, judging by how his mouth was still moving.
"You're moody. Even for a Slytherin. And Slytherins are known for being moody." he said, tapping my nose.
I swatted his hand, as expected. We had fallen into a rhythm a while ago.
"Go away, Potter." I said, turning back to my book.
"No."
Odd, our rhythm was that he was supposed to leave now.
"Go away, Potter."
"I want to teach you to fly!"
Now that was definitely unexpected.
"Excuse me?"
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Hello, my name is Cassie Adams, and I'm not a big fan of people. Or brooms, or the unexpected. Or Brussels sprouts. I like life to be planned out. Preferably in a readable context. I have never stepped onto a broom in my life, nor do I ever plan to.
And according to Albus Potter, that is the whole point.
So, it was a sunny afternoon when he pulled me onto a quidditch pitch, stuffing a broom into my hands. I was already having heart palpitations.
"Where are you talking me, Potter?" I asked, rather rudely, pulling my arm from him. I'd murder him, I really would.
"Come on, Cassie." he said, grinning. "Live a little. You're a Slytherin for a reason." he said, handing me the broom.
"I'm not a Gryffindor, Potter. I'm a Slytherin because I decided to not risk my life on a dangerous, thin stick." I said, crossing my arms and not accepting the broom.
Albus pushed it at my arms.
"The only sticks on it are on the tail, and I certainly hope your not going to try and sit on that." he said, pulling at my arms, sticking the broom into my hand.
Dammit.
"What do I have to do?" I asked miserably. I was never going to be able to get rid of him, was I? Oh, what was I getting into?
Albus stared at me. "You do know how to get on the broom, right?" he asked slowly.
This was going to be a long day.
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By the time I had actually gotten into the air, the sun was about to set. Maybe Albus wouldn't make me fly at night… I might be able to get out of this soon…
I shakily stilled in the air, my feet hanging a few feet above the ground. Oh shit oh shit. I was going to die. Oh my Merlin.
I'm going to kill him.
"There you go!" Albus said encouragingly.
I sent him a silencing glare. Hey, it worked this time!
"Get. Me. Down. From. Here." I said, gripping tightly onto the broom.
"Just a bit higher!" he said, moving higher into the air.
Let's think about this critacally here. Albus has always been a stubborn boy. He would most likely not let me go until I go higher. But if I go higher sooner, the sooner I could leave. I think you know which one I would choose.
Screwing my eyes shut, I started flying higher and higher until Albus yelled "Stop!"
Opening my eyes, I did the exact opposite of what people always tell you to do. I looked down. Isn't that always the way.
"Oh. My. Merlin. Get me down from here!" I shrieked, heart beating rapidly in my chest. "I'm going to die!"
I slipped forward, my hands no longer holding onto the broom. With a shriek, I slipped off, desperately snatching at thin air.
Shit!
I screamed loudly, more than I thought my lungs could handle.
Wow, being in the air sucks. Falling through it? Even worse.
My heart stopped when my body did.
Oh, wow, death isn't as painful as I thought it would be.
"Flying is learning to throw yourself at the ground and miss."
Looks like I wasn't dead.
"Fuck you, Albus." I groaned, slipping out of his arms. Merlin, it felt good to be standing on the ground.
"Gladly." he said, throwing me a wink. "Do you feel okay? Should I take you to the hospital wing?" Albus asked, smiling.
I waved him off, laying on the ground.
"I'll just sleep here for a while." I sighed, throwing an arm over my eyes. "Also, what the hell was that thing you said when I fell?"
"Flying is learning to throw yourself at the ground and miss." he repeated, laying down next to me. "You threw yourself at the ground. You missed. Congratulations, you can fly."
I groaned again.
"Fuck you."
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A/N: For the Quidditch European Cup! Go Wigtown Wanderers! Please review!