Chapter Text

"He never talks to anyone," Harry thought, staring at Draco Malfoy in the corner of the common room, hunched over his Transfiguration textbook.

Ron looked up from the homework he was attempting to do. "Who?"

"Malfoy."

Ron scoffed. "Of course not, he thinks he's better than all of us." He grabbed a handful of the box of Bertie Bott's they had been sharing and shoved all the jelly beans in his mouth. "The wondrous heir to the Malfoy Fortune."

"It's just weird, I think."

"Not our problem mate." Ron said as he stretched out of his seat, clearly bored of homework. "Hey, look here Harry! It says we've got flying lessons on Thursday!"

"I still don't see why on Earth we need to know how to fly." Draco heard Hermione Granger say to Neville Longbottom as they walked to their first flying lesson. He internally rolled his eyes at the dark-skinned girl. For such a smart girl, she was quite thick. Why on earth would they not learn flying?

Draco had quickly decided that he didn't like the girl very much, but to be fair, he didn't like most of the people in his year. She was always beating his scores and one-upping him in class. Also, she was a muggle-born, and Draco knew enough from his parents about muggle-borns to stay away from her.

He remembered what his father used to say. "Mudbloods and blood traitors. You've always got to stay away from mudbloods and blood traitors." Well, from what Draco had experienced so far, he couldn't help but agree with his father.

A loud, high-pitched laugh, more like a cackle, pulled Draco up out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see his friend Pansy laughing at something his friend Greg had just said. Well, Draco thought, they were my friends.

All the kids Draco had grown up with, like Pansy and Greg but also Blaise and Vincent never talked to him anymore, and it bothered him more than he'd like to admit. After the sorting ceremony, they all pretended like they didn't know him. Draco thought it was completely ridiculous. He was still the same Draco, even if he was sorted into Gryffindor.

He heard them bragging about their flying skills and smiled to himself. If Draco was anything, he was definitely a much better flyer than any of them.

Harry felt happier than he was when Hagrid had told him he was a wizard. Flying was the greatest thing he had ever done, and he never wanted to return to the ground.

After the whole fiasco with Neville and his broken arm, all the kids got a turn to try to fly on their broomstick. A lot of the kids had fallen onto the ground at first, and even some had crashed into trees. Still, a lot more kids, mostly the purebloods, had flown into the air, and the more experienced had even made circles and loop-the-loops in the air. Harry had been sure that he was going to be one of the tree-crashers that made everyone snigger.

He had never really been that good at anything, he was always just adequate. In school he was never allowed to try to get good marks in class, because if he did, the Dursleys would accuse him of cheating or something as absurd as copying off Dudley. He was never picked for sports teams, and if he was, nobody would ever pass the ball to him. There was even that one time that he had joined the school choir for credit. Now that had been a disaster. But flying, flying was adifferent thing entirely. The minute he had kicked off the ground, Harry had felt so in control, so in his element, that the rest of the world just fell away around him.

Harry had continued to fly like this for quite a while, and as he got more and more confident in himself he started to try more tricks and risky moves.

"Oi Harry!" a voice said behind him, pulling him away from whatever flip he was about to attempt. "Come check this out."

Harry followed Ron to where many kids were crowded around Seamus Finnigan proudly holding up what seemed to be a tiny, golden ball.

"Wow Seamus, where'd you get that?" Hannah Abbott asked, the awe clear in her voice.

"Nicked it from Wood's stuff while he wasn't looking." Seamus answered proudly, holding it higher so more could see.

"I don't get it." Harry whispered to Ron. "What is it?"

Ron wasn't always the best teacher, but he tried his best to explain to Harry what a snitch was.

A game of "Catch the Snitch" started between the students and Ron was clearly itching to play. Still, he accommodated his friend and answered all Harry's questions. Harry was transfixed watching his classmates play, delighted by the strange little ball darting away when someone tried to grab it. Before Ron could even finish talking, Harry sped off to join in. Ron sighed in exasperation before quickly joining his friends, eager to show off the skills his twin brothers had taught him that summer.

Harry played harder than any of the students, and was significantly better at catching the snitch than any of his counterparts. He was very resourceful, and found countless ways to trick the snitch and his competitors into leading him to victory. As he did one particularly nasty move that almost knocked Terry Boot off his broom he heard someone whisper, "He should've been in Slytherin!"

Eventually most of the kids got tired of watching Harry win, and eventually it was just him and Draco Malfoy battling for the snitch. Both very aggressive and determined players, the game soon got very competitive. Almost everyone stopped to watch the two talented fliers fight to reach the snitch. They held their breath when Draco's hands graced the golden orb, and collectively groaned when it was right behind Harry and he missed it. The game seemed to go on forever until Harry spotted the snitch somewhere close to the ground. He dove for it, moving much faster than someone on their first time on a broom ought to. Even Draco, who had matched Harry's speed at first, slowed down as the ground came closer and closer to their faces. Harry hadn't even realize what Draco was doing, he was too laser-focused on the snitch, and was moving faster and faster towards the ground. As he finally caught up to the snitch he seemed to suddenly realize how close he was to hitting the ground and panic finally took over him. Somehow he manage to jerk his broom handle up, though he was so close to the ground he would feel the tips of the grass skim his face. He slowly flew back to Draco's height, amazed that he had pulled it off. Too full of adrenaline, he just held the snitch above his head triumphantly and grinned like a madman. He heard applause and cheers of approval below him, and even Draco gave him a small smile and said, "Nice flying Potter."

Harry was so distracted by everything that had just happened when he landed safely on the ground that he didn't even notice both Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall glowering at him.

"Never in my life," Hooch began, "Have I ever seen such dangerous flying. From a first year!"

McGonagall gazed sternly at him under her glasses. "What on Earth were you thinking Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned deep red and began to stammer out an apology. His head of house just held up her hand to silence him and said, "Come with me."

He obediently followed her, tail between his legs. He had time to see Ron mouth "Good luck mate" before a firm hand directed his shoulder towards the direction of the castle.

-
"Youngest seeker in a century! I don't believe it!" Draco heard Ron Weasley yell, in fact the whole common room could hear him, he was yelling very loudly.

Draco quickly returned to his potions essay and surprised himself when he realized that he wasn't even jealous that Potter had snagged the seeker position before he could tryout. He was a damn good flyer and deserved the spot. Besides, the role of a seeker never really appealed to Draco. It seemed too boring for his taste. Draco knew he was going to make the Quidditch team eventually, because his father would always brag to anyone who would listen how good his son was at the sport. Of course, that was when his father thought he would make the Slytherin team. Draco wondered if he even would be proud at all if his son made the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Hey," he heard Potter say to Weasley. He hadn't meant to be eavesdropping, but the pair was sitting right next to him and it was quite difficult not to get distracted by their conversations. "Do you know what the unicorn hair does in Forgetfulness potion?"

"I think it makes it stronger."

The dark-haired boy chewed on his quill, like he was thinking about it. Draco laughed at the thought. As if Potter thought!

"Yeah, that must be it." he had decided, and turned to his essay to write it in.

Draco scoffed and before he could stop himself said, "It's to regulate the temperature genius, the aconite is what makes it stronger."

Potter looked at Draco in surprise, but upon realizing that Draco was right he scratched out his answer and wrote it in. "Thanks." he said.

Not but five minutes had past when Potter got stuck on his essay once again. "Hey," he asked Draco this time, "Do you know what the dragon's blood does for the potion?"

Draco rolled his eyes but answered, "It allows the potion to last longer."

The third time Potter opened his mouth to ask a question Draco just sighed and took the parchment from the boy's hands. "Just give it to me."

He easily filled in the bits that Potter was missing, and even corrected the parts he had gotten alarmingly wrong in the other parts of the essay before he handed it back.

"I really don't think you should be allowed to brew this potion." he said, not at all sarcastically. He actually feared what might happen if someone allowed Potter behind a cauldron.

The other boy just laughed and said, "Probably shouldn't."

"In fact, you probably shouldn't be allowed to do anything, given the fact that you almost broke your neck on your broom today."

"Hey, you're just jealous that I caught the snitch and you didn't."

"I don't mind losing to the youngest seeker in the century."

"Yeah, so about that-"

Soon they were having a full conversation about Quidditch, Draco was very pleased that he knew so much more about the sport than the other boy. Weasley, seemingly jealous that Draco was the one to tell Potter all this, kept adding "helpful" remarks in. Soon they were all laughing at something completely oblivious Potter had said, and Draco made a startling realization. Maybe not all Gryffindors were so bad.