a/n: Sorry for the giant wait.. but I hope you enjoy!

The sharp screech of Madam Hooch's whistle turned all heads as the students were messing around with their school-assigned brooms. Only Elizabeth held the special ride that Mr. Moble had sold to her.

Pansy Parkinson, a rather gruesome looking Slytherin girl who had been jealous of all the attention Elizabeth had been getting since day one, decided to mention this to Madam Hooch right away.

"Madam Hooch," whined Pansy, "Evans has a personal broomstick when the school rules explicitly forbid it."

Elizabeth immediately defended herself. "I didn't know that! I never received that letter!"

Madam Hooch walked over to Elizabeth, looked her over, and smiled, "It's quite alright, Potter-"

"I prefer to be called Evans, Madam."

"Fine, Evans, then. Special orders from Dumbledore himself to let you keep that broomstick. Don't have anywhere else to place it, do you poor dear?" Elizabeth shook her head as sadly as she could. Pansy, on the other hand, was sulking. "May I see that broom?"

"This is the plainest broomstick I've ever seen!" Hooch exclaimed as she expertly weighed the stick in her hands. "But I'll admit it's much lighter than the deadweights we have here…blasted school budgets. Say, where did you buy this odd little thing?"

"I got it from a friend of mine who makes them," replied Elizabeth readily.

"This friend of yours have a name?"

"Yes, I believe he goes by Moble."

"Ah," gasped Hooch softly. "No wonder. His art is not in the furnishings and delicate waxing or wood, but making the fastest brooms wizards has ever seen. This one is really plain, so it must be something amazing."

Elizabeth grinned silently and shrugged. What could she say? Mr. Moble was really the best.

"Well, students," Hooch said loudly, now addressing the rest, "today we will be going the basics of flying. Now don't go launching off the ground just yet because we're beginning with simply picking up your brooms. Put your hand over it and say up!"

Many broomsticks wobbled on the ground as the students tried this first instruction, but didn't quite leave the floor. Only Elizabeth's, Harry's, and Malfoy's shot straight into their hands at the first try.

"Excellent, Potters!" exclaimed Madam Hooch. "Perhaps talent does run in families."

Feeling ignored, Malfoy quickly frowned and exclaimed, "But I did it too!"

"Oh, yes, Malfoy, I'm sorry. Nice job!"

Elizabeth couldn't help but smirk behind her hand like with the Gryffindors. For once, the snob got what he deserved.

The students soon mastered the first task and Hooch moved on to the next step.

"We will begin actual flying training now. DON'T lift off quite yet!" She looked sharply at Malfoy whose right leg was ready to kick off the ground. "Slowly now, don't get onto your brooms, but lift your legs like I am, and kick! That's right! Now practice this motion several times."

Neville hadn't heard the instructions in full and was on his broom as he practised the motion. "WOOOAHHH!" He launched into the air with great speed, but he was unsteady and not long after, fell from his wobbling broomstick. Crunch! Neville moaned in pain as he writhed on the ground where he landed.

"Foolish boy!" shouted Madam Hooch, "I said practice the motion off the broom." She scooped a whimpering Neville up and made him to lean on her with one arm. With a threatening glare, she instructed the class, "Now that I have to take Longbottom here to the hospital wing, I expect you all to be practicing! Stay ON THE GROUND. Any students I see flying about on broomsticks is are liable for SUSPENSION!" With a frustrated grunt, she and the wounded Neville staggered down toward the hospital wing, looking like quite the awkward duo.

"Hey, Potter," said Malfoy once the teacher was out of sight, "Remember this?" He mockingly held a funny little ball between his forefinger and thumb.

"Hey! That's Neville's!" yelled Harry, "Give it back here!" He reached to grab it out of Malfoy's hand, but Malfoy was too quick for him.

"Not a chance, Pottyface," Malfoy leered, "come and get it…if you dare!" He jumped onto his broom and lifted off, flying quickly towards the far towers.

Harry immediately grabbed for his broom, but Hermoine stopped him.

"Didn't you hear Madam Hooch? If you do this, you're liable for suspension, or worse, expellment!"

"I don't care! Malfoy shouldn't always get away with these things!"

"Well, there's other ways of dealing with it. We can tell Madam Hooch when she gets back!"

"And then what? Neville's Remembrall will be halfway across the forest in some tree, and surely he'll never remember anything anymore. Let go of me!" He tugged his arm away from Hermoine's grip only to have Elizabeth grab his other arm.

"Now what? I can hardly see him now."

Elizabeth pushed her broomstick towards him. "Take this, it's faster."

"Oh, thanks." Harry looked at her and grinned before hurling himself towards Malfoy.

She watched him shoot off into sky, a sort of romantically heroic scene playing in her mind where superheroes fly off into the sunset. "He's not bad, you know," she said to Hermoine, "Flying's in his blood. His dad was in the Quidditch league; I saw the name on a trophy cup."

Hermoine frowned. "Why do you refer to Harry's father as 'his father'? Isn't he your father too?" she asked, forgetting about Harry altogether.

Elizabeth nearly hit herself for being so obvious. Her back tensed faintly. Should I tell her? "Oh, I-I'm not so sure anymore."

"How do you mean? Oh sorry, um, should I be asking?"

Elizabeth acknowledged Hermoine's considerateness. "It's okay. Um, no, I recently found out that we might…have different dads. Don't tell Harry that, though. He won't accept that our mum was…with another man."

"Wow, your family is pretty complicated isn't it?"

Elizabeth snorted. "Ha! Yes, it is! I wish someone would understand. However, Harry is the one the amazing story, world-wide fame; mine is sort of just sad and irrelevant. I mean, even after all this, the magic and the miracles, what I'm searching for all comes down to family and a place to belong, and, as you know, the family part is not going along quite so well."

"Why? Who's this other dad?"

"I'd rather not say. It would ruin everything….it's already ruined everything."

Hermoine was silent for a while, absorbing what she had just heard. "Looks like you're just looking for someone to talk to. I wouldn't mind being that person, but I feel like it's not my place to solve your problems. I know what you mean about finding a place to belong; I've always just been the bucktoothed...nerd."

Elizabeth laughed. "I can sort of see that!"

"Hey!"

"I'm kidding, but I know what you mean. I'll have to face my problems soon enough. Seeing as this class is pretty much in shambles, I'll be heading off now."

"But what about Madam Hooch…"

"I don't give two hoots about what any teacher thinks, but I hardly think she'll notice I'm even gone."

"But…"

"Give it a rest. I'm not even in your house." Elizabeth walked off without another word.