Author: hollyhobbit101
House: Ravenclaw
Prompt: Discarded book
Theme: Air
Word count: 1313
I tossed the fifth book I had read onto the pile next to me and buried my head in my hands, groaning in frustration. Quidditch was literally the only sport in the wizarding world, how hard could it be to find one book which covered the theory of how to fly a broom? Incredibly hard, apparently.
After a few moments, I managed to gather enough energy to lift my head again. I tipped my head from side to side to work out the aches, noticing Draco Malfoy watching me from the end of an aisle. I felt myself begin to blush as he smirked infuriatingly at me. But my senses soon returned to me. I glared fiercely and shifted my chair so that I could no longer see him. He was not going to distract me from this.
I sighed and dragged the final book across the desk, ignoring the steadily building headache throbbing in my temples. I didn't understand why it was taking me so much effort to wrap my head around even the basics of flight - nothing else was this hard. Flying had never been my strong suit, it was true, but I'd always believed that you could learn anything with a few hours hard study. I wasn't sure how long I'd been in the library, but it had certainly been more than a few hours and I still wasn't any closer to being able to fly.
This sixth book seemed to be much the same as all the others at first, talking about how great Quidditch was, which teams were the best, the best tricks to perform in the air. None of which I cared about. Of course, there was some direction on how to fly, but there was nothing I hadn't already been told by Madam Hooch in our flying lessons. I had jotted a few notes down however, so I slammed the text shut and dropped it down on the growing pile of discarded books, pulling my parchment in front of me.
Command the broom firmly.
I thought I was doing that. Wasn't glaring at the broom and yelling "Up!" firm enough? Maybe I should try being less aggressive with it. Harry never gets mad at his broom.
Gently hover.
I wanted to scream at the vagueness of this instruction. What did it even mean? How was I supposed to 'gently hover'? I understood how planes and hot air balloons fly. I knew about how the flaps and ailerons on planes created lift to keep it in the air, and the air from the fire in hot air balloons allowed them to fly, but that hardly applied to broomsticks. They were just literal sticks with twigs attached to the end that were kept up by magic.
Lean forward to move and sideways to turn.
Again, that was all well and good, but I had no idea how to control my speed. In my previous attempts, I always ended up going too fast, and that was when I was actually able to get airborne in the first place. As for turning, the theory sounded simple, but the broom usually just did a complete 360 under me. Planes turned using the rudder on the tail to direct the airflow the way they needed to turn, and it's controlled by a joystick in the cockpit. But there were no cockpits on broomsticks and no rudder to turn it, so it all relied on my control. Which I didn't have.
Tilt the broom upwards to ascend and down to descend.
In theory? Easy. In practise? So, so hard. It always freaked me out to lean forward or backward because I got scared I'd slide off the end. I generally found myself gripping the broom really tightly, and all the muscles in my body would just lock up so I couldn't move. It wasn't fun, and I was pretty sure the broom didn't like the way I clenched my fists around it, because apparently inanimate objects had feelings now. Point was, I could never control my broom enough to have the confidence to lean in any direction, seeing as falling uncontrollably through the air wasn't a fun thing to do and would almost certainly involve broken bones upon landing.
Let the wind carry you along.
I was sure this instruction made perfect sense to actual Quidditch players. And why shouldn't it? 'Let the wind carry you'. I didn't see how that was complicated at all!
So maybe I was getting a little (okay, a lot) frustrated, but honestly. It was the most nonsensical, stupid, poorly worded sentence I had ever read, and that was saying a lot considering this was Hogwarts, where we deal with the unexplainable every day. Then again, general magic had a theory behind it that I could learn and apply. Flying seemed to be just… trust. I had to trust that the broom would listen to me. I had to trust that I wouldn't slide off it. I had to trust in my own capabilities.
And there was another thing! Not a single one of those useless books contained anything about the weather conditions! I'd seen Harry fly in all sorts of weather, but they must have been over what to do when it rains, or when there was very little wind, because it couldn't all be pure talent. How was I supposed to let the wind carry me along when there was none? Or what if there was too much wind? The broom would be blown all over the place and it would be even harder to control than it already was. Was I meant to just put on a pair of flying goggles and hope for the best?
I wanted to scream in frustration. Obviously, there had to be some sort of enchantment upon the brooms to keep them in the air; I only wished I knew what it was. Levicorpus maybe? Or Wingardium Leviosa? No, those were permanent until the counter-charm was performed, and brooms only flew when they were required to. Maybe they were like wands with a magical core built into them. That would make some sense, but I had no clue what the core could be. Maybe it said something in one of those books and I just didn't see it.
After I had gone through every single book I had selected all over again, I had concluded that the world was conspiring against me. Apparently, the magic behind the manufacture of brooms was 'sacred' and 'a secret guarded so carefully, only a handful around the world are privy to it'. Honestly, it was all quite ridiculous. If all magic was kept so secretive none of us would be here in the first place.
I sighed again and looked out of the window next to me. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, so if I wanted to put all this theory into practise I had better get going. I stood up and gathered my notes together, groaning inwardly as I saw the mess I had made of my desk. After the second read through, I hadn't bothered to stack the discarded books back up neatly, only threw them haphazardly to one side. Consequently, there were two books on the floor, another that had landed on the neighbouring desk, and three that were partially open still. Madam Pince would kill me if she saw.
I shoved them into my arms and hurried over to the section I had originally found them in. I wasn't sure where each one went so I just let them go randomly, hoping they would somehow find their way back to their original place. I reviewed my notes quickly, before stuffing them into my bag and heading back to the common room, a plan slowly formulating in my mind. All I needed was a broom...
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this! Please review if you have a moment!
