For the Houses Competition
House: Ravenclaw
Year: 6
Category: Drabble
Prompt: Falling off a broom
Word count: 585
Ginny crept downstairs, taking care to avoid all the spots she knew would creak. She didn't want her father - or worse, her mother - finding out that she was out of bed and dragging her back. Not again, anyway; this would be the last chance she'd get before Charlie, Bill, and the twins went off to Hogwarts.
She managed to slip out of the house undetected, quietly making her way to the broom cupboard and grabbing the first broom she saw. As she did so, another one slipped sideways and banged against the wooden wall, the sound seeming horribly loud in the otherwise silent night. Ginny grimaced, holding her breath, but no light flickered on inside. She breathed out in relief, then grinned and ran to the field where the boys played Quidditch. They'd always told her that she was too young to play, that she wasn't strong enough to throw the balls, or that she'd just fall off and hurt herself.
She'd show them.
Luckily, the night was fairly clear, so Ginny was able to see reasonably well. She surveyed her stolen broom quickly - it was obviously one of the older ones, with more branches than usual sticking out, and the handle showed many signs of being repeatedly crashed, but it would do. She settled herself on the broom, leaning forward and holding on with a loose grip, like she'd seen the boys do. She kicked off the ground, managing to get a few feet into the air before her grip suddenly slipped and she fell, landing with a heavy thud. Ginny groaned, rolling onto her back and blinking a few times to clear her vision. Glancing to the side, she saw her broom lying next to her and she narrowed her eyes, determination filling her. She pushed herself to her feet and marched over to the broom, grabbing it and repeating the motions, this time with a tighter grip.
She'd do it this time, for sure.
It went well for a couple of minutes, and Ginny felt confident enough to go a little faster. So she leaned forward more, laughing as the wind whistled through her hair and stung her eyes and -
Suddenly, she was falling again, the broom tipping almost vertical. She just barely managed to avoid face-planting the dirt, instead landing on her front, her breath knocked out of her. She huffed in frustration, then got up again.
Time and again, Ginny fell. Time and again, she got up, each time feeling more determined to master the broom, or at least be able to fly it. Eventually, after too many tumbles to count, she succeeded in flying uninterrupted, managing to climb to the tops of the trees. She even landed it without any problems. The flight had still been a little shaky, but Ginny decided to put that down to the age of the broom rather than her own shortcomings.
Ginny grinned as she walked back to the house, feeling sore all over, and certain that the broom had several new scuff marks and broken branches, but happy with her achievements. She imagined with vicious glee joining the boys in their Quidditch match tomorrow, despite all their protestations that she knew they'd put up. She imagined their faces turning from sceptical to shocked, their mouths dropping open as they saw how well she could fly. She imagined beating them at races and proving that just because she was younger than them, didn't mean she was any less able.
Yeah. She'd show them.