AN: So, so, SO sorry that this came out a week late! Long story short, my family went to FL for a wedding about two weeks ago via plane, we were planning to drive a car back up but then my mom's company paid her SUPER late and we didn't have gas money to get back up till they did, so we ended up only getting home a week ago and I sort of forgot the week in Florida actually happened. I only just realized this wasn't on time. Again, SUPER sorry! I do not own Harry Potter or Beautiful Day by Michael Buble. Minor cursing.

Chapter 7: It's My Turn to Fly

Date: Thursday, 12 September, 1991

Theme Song: Beautiful Day by Michael Bublé


Hogwarts was absolutely insane. Cathie had never been surer of something. For one, it was incredibly annoying how so many people seemed to hero-worship Harry. Since she was cursed with being in the same house and year as him, the nine first year Gryffindors ended up traveling from class to class pretty close to each other. Therefore, there were almost always people around. At least Cathie wasn't the famous one – that would have sucked.

If that wasn't enough, some days it seemed like the Hogwarts castle itself was conspiring to get on her nerves. Some of the staircases led somewhere different on a Friday. Others had a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. And then there were the doors, some refusing to open until you ask politely, others refusing to open until you tickle them in just the right place. On top of all that, the walls greatly enjoyed pretending to be doors. And when Cathie had decided to start trying to find her way by using the portraits and coats of armor as landmarks, she had discovered that the people in portraits could simply walk out of them at will, and she would swear that those coats of armor walked around when no one was looking. It was really cool that the castle seemed to have some semblance of sentience, but it could also be really irritating.

And, of course, you couldn't forget the ghosts. Sir Nicholas was very nice to her, although that could be because she was one of the few who didn't refer to him as Nearly Headless Nick. In any case, he was always happy to point her and Neville in the right direction. Peeves was definitely another story. Coming across Peeves was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastebaskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" It was a relief when Cathie and Neville came across Lee, Fred, George, or some combination of the three, because not only they were apparently experts when it came to shortcuts and secret passageways, but they were also almost friends with Peeves, and he seemed to respect them enough that he would allow them and those accompanying them safe passage. This was ironic, because Lee, Fred and George were the most mischievous, trouble-making students at Hogwarts, yet Peeves respected them, whereas he had no respect for the prefect from the first night (who she later discovered was Fred and George's brother Percy) or indeed any of the prefects.

Another demon of Hogwarts was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Within their first week, Cathie and Neville had already gotten on his bad side when he discovered them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure that they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat named Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except Lee, Fred and George, obviously) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. As a cat-lover, Cathie couldn't say she'd go that far, but she certainly did not like that mongrel.

The first class the first year Gryffindors had was Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, and the first year Hufflepuffs. By their third class, they were learning about a flower called Moly, which was used as a potion ingredient. They had two more classes that day, Charms and History of Magic. Professor Flitwick taught Charms, and that first week they were introduced to Lumos, the wand-lighting charm. History of Magic was taught by a ghost named Professor Binns, who immediately dove into a discussion of famous wizards from the middle ages. Professor Binns had the rather remarkable ability to bore the students even more than books, and for quite a few of the students, that was saying something. First thing the morning after was Defense Against the Dark Arts, often shorted to DADA, taught by first-time teacher Professor Quirrell. He also started by teaching them the wand-lighting charm.

Following that was Transfiguration. The woman who had led them inside Hogwarts that first night and held the Sorting Ceremony turned out to be Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House. She was the professor of Transfiguration, and she gave them a decent-length lecture on the subject the second they were all in their seats. She was very stern, but she had a matter-of-factness about her that Cathie liked. Their first lesson was on turning matches into needles, though only Hermione got very far at all, and before that they had to take lots of complicated notes. On Wednesday at midnight was their Astronomy class, taught by Professor Sinistra, revolving around stars and planets. Finally, on Friday came their Potions class, which both excited and disappointed Cathie. She had been expecting great things from the class, since she loved to cook so much and potion-making sounded very, very similar. The potion-making itself had fulfilled its expectations and then some; Cathie suspected it would soon be her favorite class regardless of the nasty, biased teacher. Which, of course, was the disappointment; the class was taught by the nasty, biased Professor Snape, who was not only extremely partial to the Slytherins since he was the Head of Slytherin House, but also incredibly cruel to Harry for no reason. That definitely took some of the fun out of potions.

Cathie woke up on Thursday to the sound of Hermione's voice saying, "Finite Incantatem."

"Thanks, Mione," she yawned, as she did every morning. "Man, I don't know what I'd do without you. Wake everyone up five times a night, I guess."

She had a habit of talking in her sleep loudly, and often, so she'd spent lots of time during those two weeks in London practicing the Silencing Charm. It was a fifth-year spell, but Cathie had dedicated herself, and soon became decent at it. It wore off after about twenty-four hours, so a few poor birds had suffered for a bit, but it had no lasting damage. Lucky for her, she had a roommate who'd picked out all the really important spells (such as Finite Incantatem, which undid most other spells) that wouldn't be covered till late in the year or next year and practiced them independently, and Hermione had been willing to undo the Silencing Charm every morning.

"Today is our first Flying class," Hermione told her as Cathie moved to the bathroom to change. Their roommates Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were already down at breakfast. "Are you as nervous as I am?"

"Oh, totally," Cathie laughed. "I couldn't be much more nervous if I tried." Though she'd been pretty successful in keeping her distance from everyone, she had failed in a few cases. One of them was Hermione; the girl was nothing if not persistent, and desperate for friends. Cathie had been unable to push her away.

They climbed down the staircase together in time to hear Ron and Dean arguing fiercely over Quidditch versus football for the fiftieth time that week. "Honestly, you two, can't you lay off each other?" Hermione commented impatiently.

"Mind your own business," Ron snapped irritably. He turned back to Dean. "I still say you're nutters. There're no broomsticks! Why play a sport where you can't fly? Where's the fun in that?"

Don't involve yourself. Don't involve yourself. "There's plenty of fun in it!" Way to not involve yourself. Cathie glared determinedly. "I'll have you know that just because you've never tried it doesn't mean it's pointless. I guarantee running is just as fun as flying, so obviously a game that revolves around running is just as fun as a game that revolves around flying."

"But there's only one ball!"

"That's what makes football better than Quidditch," Dean insisted. "Quidditch is so freaking complicated."

"But – "

"Sorry, mate, you're out-numbered." Harry patted Ron on the back sympathetically. "Let it go. Just let it go. C'mon, let's go get some breakfast." He winked at Cathie as Ron's mood suddenly grew cheerier and he dashed off out of the common room. Cathie grinned back at him as he followed his friend.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked.

"Nah. Neville wanted to meet in the common room today. It's the nerves, probably. Not that I mind – actually, I'm positively relieved that he brought it up."

Hermione shrugged. "Okay. See you!"

She left the common room, and a few seconds later, Neville came bounding down from the boys' dormitory, and he and Cathie made their way to breakfast. "I still can't believe we're having Flying lessons with the Slytherins," she commented crossly. "Now we share two classes with them? Why couldn't it just be with Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw? We don't share any classes with Ravenclaw."

Neville nodded sympathetically. "I know, right? At least you've got that twin in Slytherin. He seems nice enough."

Cathie winced. "Yeah, sure." For now, she wouldn't deny it. Cadence had been laying low for a while, but she was positive that it wouldn't last. Any day now he would begin spreading rumors as he did every time she gained a tiny bit of popularity – and he was good at both coming up with rumors and spreading them. He would spread one at a time, until everyone who used to like her had stopped. If Neville and maybe Hermione clung to her long enough, he'd give up at some point, but that was a very rare case.

They reached the Gryffindor table, where Neville went to sit with the other first years. Cathie moved to join him, but Katie popped up at her side for the first time since school had begun. "Hey, Cathie," she greeted her. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to sit with me and my friends today? Most of them are already on the Quidditch team, and I know that your first Flying class is today, so they could give you some tips."

Cathie blinked in surprise. "Oh, um…." She hesitated. She really would rather not get close to more people than necessary, but how could she get out of this. "Sorry, maybe another time. My friend, Neville, is really nervous about the class. I should probably sit with him today." Victory!

"Well, in that case, maybe he could sit with us too."

Or not. "Sure, thanks! I'll go ask him if he's alright with that." She ran over to Neville and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, Neville, an upper-year I know offered to let us eat breakfast with her and her friends so that they could give us some tips for later. Most of them are on the Quidditch team, you see. What do you say?" He's way too shy. He'll say no for sure.

"Yeah, that sounds great! I could definitely use it."

Or not. "Okay, come on."

Cathie, Neville and Katie made their way to a section of the table that seemed mostly comprised of third years. "Hey, you don't mind if these two sit with us today, do you?" Her friends happened to be Lee, Fred and George, in addition to two other girls Cathie hadn't met yet. They were unanimously agreeable, so Cathie and Neville sat down. "I was thinking you might give them some pointers on flying, since you lot are experts. Er, most of you. Sorry Lee."

"Whatever," Lee grunted. "You're not on the team either. I don't mind."

"She will be by tomorrow," one of the girls declared. "There's no way Oliver'll choose someone over her. She's fantastic at Quidditch. There are two openings on the team," she added for Cathie and Neville's benefit.

"Well, Alicia was a reserve last year, so she's more likely to get a spot than I am," Katie rationalized.

"I repeat: two openings. Unless Alicia is suddenly two people, I fail to see how her being on the team will interfere with you being on the team. Anyway, I'm Angelina," the girl told Cathie and Neville, "and this is Alicia, Geor-"

"She already knows us three, Angie," George interrupted. "She sat with us on the train. What do you say, Fred? Shall we contribute to young Cathie and Neville's training, or stay out of it and watch them fall off their brooms later? It does sound like great fun."

"Nah." Fred grinned. "If we did that, Ron might think that we like him as much as we like them. Can't let that happen. He asked us for advice, but we really would rather watch him fall off his broom," he announced cheekily.

At that point, a barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it up excitedly and showed her a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke. "It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things – this'll tell you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it right like this and if it turns red – oh…," His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "…you've forgotten something…."

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when some blond Slytherin boy, Cathie thought his name was Draco Malfoy, passed the Gryffindor table, accompanied by Cadence and two other humongous Slytherin boys. Malfoy snatched the Remembrall out of Neville's hand.

All students sitting with him jumped up, some of them with their hands already on their wands, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash. "What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor," Neville voiced.

Scowling, Malfoy hastily dropped the Remembrall back on the table. "Just looking," he muttered, and he sloped away with Cadence and the other two behind him.

Cathie scowled at their retreating backs. "Hey, that was your brother, wasn't it?" Lee commented. "I recognize him from the Sorting Ceremony. Funny that he ended up as one of Malfoy's goons – as far as I know, Malfoys never willingly associate with muggle-borns."

"Muggle-borns?" Alicia frowned. "I heard that he was a half-blood."

"That'd be kind of difficult, seeing as he's Cathie's twin and she's a muggle-born." Lee frowned, and Cathie sighed. Not the usual route Cadence went with trying to make her look bad, but then again, nothing about that school was usual. Now the seven students she was sitting with would be wondering why she had told them she was muggle-born, for even when she was telling the truth and he wasn't, Cadence was always more convincing than she was.

But then something amazing happened. Katie slung an arm over her shoulder and shrugged. "Guess he didn't want to be ostracized in his new house."

Cathie blinked, surprised. Was Katie saying what Cathie thought she was saying? "So you believe me, then?"

"'Course I do. Slytherins are always lying," Angelina laughed, as if this was obvious. "He is lying, right?"

"Of course. I have no reason to lie about my blood status." Cathie stared intensely at the eggs on her plate as she tried to comprehend what was happening. For one of the first times in her life, someone had believed her story over Cadence's. Just because he was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor.

She took it back. She loved Hogwarts.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Cathie, Neville, and the other Gryffindor first years hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first Flying class. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. The second years had all complained about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." Cathie glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. "Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Cathie's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Cathie and Neville were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years. "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch directed them. "Keep your broom steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two – "

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.
"Come back, boy!" she ordered, but Neville was rising up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet.

"Neville!" Cathie gasped, alarmed, her feet tensing and relaxing and tensing again as she hovered on the precipice of trying to fly up there to rescue him herself. She eventually relinquished the idea, as it was preposterous; she had no idea how to fly. She saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, saw him slide sideways off the broom and – she dropped the broom and ran – WHAM. She'd never had a chance of reaching him in time. A thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the Forbidden Forest and out of sight.

Cathie kneeled beside him as Madam Hooch bent over, both their faces as white as his. "Broken wrist," she heard the teacher mutter. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get. You, girl, go on and go back to your place." She reluctantly obliged as Madam Hooch 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." Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?" The other Slytherins joined in – including Cadence.

Anger boiled up in Cathie. Emboldened by what she'd learned earlier, she stepped forward. "You leave him alone!"

"Yeah, shut up, Malfoy," Parvati agreed.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" sneered Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati. You don't surprise me, McGinley."

There was no doubt in Cathie's mind why that was. She glared resentfully at Cadence, who smirked at her.

"Look!" Malfoy jeered, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. Everyone stopped to watch. Cathie moved closer to him, ready to back him up if need be.

Malfoy smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. For a first year, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak, he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No," shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

"'Cause Malfoy hasn't done that already," Cathie retorted, shooting the girl a look. "If Harry doesn't, I will, that's for sure." Hermione stared at her open-mouthed, looking shocked that Cathie would agree with Harry over her.

Harry mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and Parvati and Lavender screamed and gasped as Ron whooped admiringly. He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. The prat looked stunned. Cathie could see their lips moving and hear voices, but she couldn't tell what they were saying. She ran under Malfoy, just in case he dropped it. All of a sudden, Malfoy threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back down. Enraged, blood pounding in her ears, Cathie stomped toward him. "If you think I'm not going straight to Madam Hooch and telling her that you not only disobeyed her, but also stole another student's property, then you have another think coming."

"See?" Cadence shook his head. "I told you she was a tattletale. Why don't you just mind your own business?"

The Slytherins jeered at her, but Cathie remained firm, determined to hold her ground, and soon enough the Gryffindors swarmed around her, just as firm and determined. "Some people deserve to be tattled on," Dean insisted. "And if she needs proof, we'll all be witnesses."

"What makes you think she'll believe you?" Cadence challenged.

"Please," Ron snickered. "As if anyone would ever believe a Slytherin over a Gryffindor. Clearly you don't know how things work around here, which is natural, since you're a muggle-born."

"I don't know who told you that," Cadence snapped. "I'm a half-blood. My dad is a wizard. I wouldn't listen to that one. She doesn't know what honesty is."

"Yeah, right." Seamus rolled his eyes. "Like Ron said, no one would ever believe a Slytherin over a Gryffindor. Nice try."

"Besides, I don't know how you'd know if our dad was a wizard or not, seeing as we haven't seen him in four years," Cathie shot back at him.

"Well, maybe you haven't," Cadence scoffed, surprise still in his eyes at the lack of reaction to his accusation. "Why would he want to spend time with you? You're the reason he left to begin with."

At that moment, a shriek of, "HARRY POTTER!" filled the air, and all the students turned to watch as Professor McGonagall ran across the lawn toward Harry, who seemed to be just landing. Really, if he'd stayed in the air after Malfoy had thrown the Remembrall, it was his own stupid fault – except – was that the Remembrall in his hands? How on earth had he caught it? "Never – in all my time at Hogwarts – " Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "how dare you – might have broken your neck – "

"It was all Malfoy's fault, Professor – " Cathie began earnestly, but she was immediately cut off.

"Be quiet, Miss McGinley – "

"But Malfoy – " Ron tried to aid her, but he too was cut off.

"That's enough, Mister Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Cathie watched in despair as he was led away to the castle. Then she turned, and felt an intense urge to punch the triumph off of Malfoy and his goons' faces, including Cadence's. "Don't think this changes anything," she bit out, clenching her fists. "If he's going home on that train tonight, I will not rest until you're out of here too."

"Then I'm afraid you won't be resting until summer." Malfoy smirked. "My father's a very important man,"

"By that, he means his father's loaded," Ron muttered bitterly.

Cathie's smirk rivaled Malfoy's, and even he seemed surprised at that. "Oh, is that what that means? Well, I'm afraid you don't know who you're messing with, kid. Guarantee my mom's mountain of money would make your dad's look like an ant hill." She snickered at the astonished expression on his face, then spotted it on everyone else's. This Malfoy kid must be really loaded, then – but Cathie was really loaded too.

Before Malfoy could gather his wits – What wits? – Madam Hooch returned. "Alright, I hope you lot have been sticking to the ground."

The class snickered as one. Madam Hooch looked around suspiciously. Then Cathie remembered herself. "Madam Hooch," she called out, taking in Malfoy's alarmed expression. Clearly the idiot hadn't thought she'd actually go through with it. "Not all of us have been sticking to the ground."

"Should've known," Madam Hooch commented, rolling her eyes. "Alright, who is it?"

"Malfoy, ma'am. Neville's Remembrall fell out of his robes. Malfoy picked it up, flew into the sky, and threw it." Cathie hesitated, then plunged forward, deciding that she certainly couldn't make Harry's situation any worse. "Harry flew up after him and caught the Remembrall."

Malfoy looked so outraged it was comical. Madam Hooch did, too. "My word! Class is dismissed for today. Mister Malfoy, please come with me. We shall be having a word with your Head of House." Madam Hooch grabbed Malfoy by the arm and practically dragged him off. Cathie waved goodbye. His face was murderous, and promised dreadful things to come. But today, Cathie couldn't find it in herself to care about the consequences.