Broom Lessons

Harry woke up that morning. Actually somewhat excited about things, especially after the earlier conversation with McGonnagall. Today was the day. The best day of the First Year. No other day came close to comparing to this one particular day. No matter how many times he got to experience it, it was just the best day.

Today was the first day for broom lessons.

He bounced out of bed and quickly dressed. A quick glance showed that most of his dorm mates were stirring. So, he entered the bathroom and did his morning routine. Then still, in a happy, chipper mood, he dashed downstairs.

He found Hermione waiting for him. She was sitting in a chair, her face in a book, staring at it even more intently than normal. There was a harsh tense set to her shoulders. A strain in them that was evident even from across the common room. All but whistling, he dropped onto the couch cushion next to her, and then wrapped her in a tight hug.

She squeaked in surprise at his sudden presence. Dropping the book in the process. Her hair got bushier, as she looked down at it, and then at him.

"Harry, why did you do that?"

He chuckled. "Because you're too tense. It's just flying lessons. If it was that dangerous then they wouldn't teach it to first years."

She glared at him. "Just because you were kicked out of potions, doesn't mean that you can forget what I said about the class. You know that that boil-cure potion melted a pewter cauldron. It melted it. And then gave Neville boils."

He barked a laugh. "I said teach. Snape doesn't teach. He supervises a practicum. And supervises it poorly. And wait... isn't pewter a deadly poison if ingested?"

She blinked, and he smiled at having derailed her thoughts. "Uhmm... It has lead and antimony and a few other heavy metals which are highly dangerous to ingest over the long term. But I think so long as the liquid that inside it's not acidic it won't get at those elements."

He nudged her. "The potion ate the cauldron. That seems pretty acidic to me."

She shrugged. "We don't know it's PH. It could be a base."

He laughed and stood up, dragging her with him. "Now come on now, despite the fact that it's entirely spent sitting on our bums, today's lesson is the closest this place has to physical education, so we need to go have a good breakfast."

She shook her head. "Why do you do that?"

They exited the common room, and started heading towards the Great Hall.

"Do what?"

"Compare Hogwarts to our junior schools?"

He stopped and looked around. There was no-one near. And no portraits either. He tilted his head slightly, focusing his attention on her. "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Even with being alone and friendless and bullied, I think I was getting a much better education during junior school. We should be starting first forms this year. That means we'd study math, science, grammar, literature, history, and then also have art or music and phys ed. Instead, we have charms, transfig, DADA, History, astronomy and potions. While, in theory, we're being taught magic, what we're not being taught are those skills that we will need to survive in the real world. While we could probably skate by with out the science or literature, we need math and grammar in order to do anything in the real world. Every job out there involves math. But we're not being taught it here. And I'd argue we need literature so that we can understand culture. The point is, school is supposed to prepare us for life after school. Here, we're turning buttons into beetles; but how does that help us get ahead in life? Before I learned about magic, I wanted to be an engineer when I grew up. I wanted to make a better saloon, a safer saloon; because my relatives said that my parents had died in that wreck."

Absently, Harry scrubbed at one watery eye.

"But," he paused, and struggled with his emotions. That was something he had never before revealed to anyone, in any of his previous lives. He swallowed the lump in his throat and then continued, a tenseness to his voice. "Nothing we're being taught here would help me with that. And worse, I found out that the dreams I had had about doing something good were based upon nothing but a lie. So, yeah, I'm comparing Hogwarts to what we knew in junior, and even primary, and I'm finding it... lacking."

Silence hung between them for a moment. She watched him, her eyes looked like tears wanted to come out. Her entire presence seemed to scream that she wanted to jump on him and hug him.

He sighed and scrubbed at the back of his head. A quick glance at the ceiling before focusing back on her. "In fact, there's only one good thing I've found since learning about magic."

"What?"

"You. You and your friendship."

That admission hung between them for a few moments. She blinked, a blush giving her face much-needed color. Then her arms were wrapped around him; and she was squeezing him for all she was worth.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered into his shoulder as his own arms went around her; returning her hug.

Finally, she pulled away, the blush still on her face. She grabbed his hand, and began pulling him along. Heading towards the Great Hall and breakfast. But even still, he could tell that Hermione was once more thinking hard; her brow furrowed and biting slightly on her lower lip.

A short while, a good breakfast, and an attempt by Malfoy to steal Neville's Remeberall later, Harry and Hermione were walking out to one of the greens near the Quidditch Pitch. Twenty or so brooms were laid out in two lines that faced one another. The Gryffindors were sharing this class with the Slytherins of course. After all, it was a dangerous, and potentially deadly, lesson, so that meant that Dumbledore wanted the two houses most likely to try to sabotage or hurt one another to be take it together.

Harry smirked at the line of Slytherins that stood by their own brooms. Greengrass, Davis and Moon were off to one side whispering to one another, while Parkinson and Bulstrode were closer to Malfoy and his bookends. in the center of the row. The remaining boys were off to the right, and seemed to be more focused on the brooms on the ground than the Gryffindors who were approaching them.

This was something he remembered nicely. In all of the lives he had lived, this was one of the few scenes that remained fairly static over the cycles. Draco was a pillock. Neville broke a wrist. Draco was a bigger pissant. Harry intimidated him a bit, and viola! Spot on the Quidditch team.

He noted Draco's sneer, and just smirked more widely at the boy. Before words could be exchanged, a strong voice came from behind him.

"Well, what are you all waiting for, get to a broom."

Harry turned and noticed the flight instructor heading towards them. He silvery hair was short and wind-swept, and her yellow eyes seemed to flicker across all the students. She gave Harry the distinct impression of a hawk. Or maybe a vulture. Something birdlike and just waiting for some misfortune to fall on the unwary. Most likely so she could consume them.

Suppressing a laugh, he went to stand by a broom, and pulled Hermione along with him. He dropped her hand, and she continued another step to the next broom in line. As she stopped beside it, she glanced up at him, her eyes slightly watery and frightened. Unable to help himself, he reached out and grabbed her hand, and gave it a quick squeeze.

Surprised, she blushed fiercely, and gave him a weak smile. Once again, he dropped her hand and stood calmly by his broom, focused on the instructor.

"I'm Rolanda Hooch, and I'm the flying instructor here at Hogwart's. We're starting out today with the simple mechanics of flight. First, hold out your dominant hand over the broom, and yell out 'Up!'"

Harry did so, and the broom smacked against his palm. He could feel a thrum of energy from it, a wash of power, that begged to be let loose.

He glanced over at Hermione, and saw her frowning down at the broom. Frustration marring her features, as she all but stomped her foot and demanded the broom to jump up. It bounced, smacked her palm, and then dropped back to the ground.

Further down, he saw Neville's broom rolling over.

He shifted closer to Hermione.

"'Mione," He whispered at her.

Her head snapped around, as she stared at him. "What?"

Smiling, he nodded towards her broom on the ground. "You're putting too much intent into it. We all know that magic is intent, that's the first thing the Charms book tells us, but you're not casting magic with this. You're activating and powering magic. The flight spells are already cast. The up command, brings the broom to your hand. Don't worry about catching the broom, the broom will catch itself. Just tell it 'up.'"

She stared at him for a moment, and then sucked in a deep breath before letting it out.

"Up."

The broom launched itself upwards, and placed itself into her hand. She blinked at it twice in shock, before looking towards him again. The blush was back on her face, as she smiled at him.

"Thanks, Harry." Her voice was almost whispered.

He grinned at her, but before he could respond, Hooch spoke again.

"Now, let's mount the broom. The proper grip is your dominant hand should be further from your body. This is to better allow the charms on the broom to be controlled. But being comfortable with holding the broom is more important than exact hand placement. Now, when I blow the whistle, I want everyone to kick off, raise up about five meters, hover there for a count of ten and then slowly lower yourselves back to the ground."

Her hawk-like eyes flickered across the class, and then she raised the whistle to her lips. But before she could blow on it, there was a startled yelp, and Neville was lifting off. His right hand was holding onto the broom tightly, while his left was flinging around wildly.

"Get back down here boy!"

Instead of doing that, Neville shot up fifty feet and then began drifting. He flew over them, and then the Slytherins, before heading towards the forest. A burst of wind, and he was suddenly falling.

There was a loud crunch when he landed.

Hooch hurried over to him, and did something. Harry could not quite see what, but the flash of spellfire was quite obvious. Then she was herding him towards the entrance to the castle. As she neared the class, she glared at them all. "You will all stay on the ground. Anyone not listening will be banned from further flight lessons at the castle, and not allowed a broom at school in the future."

There was a tense hush; a silence that seemed to grip all the students, that clung to them with the realization that they could be hurt while flying. It stretched out, for one heartbeat. Then two.

Then Draco shattered it by laughing. It was a harsh, callous, laugh; tinted dark with the enjoyment of someone else's pain. The blond boy nudged Goyle on the shoulder, his amusement clear in his voice. "Did you see that great lump?"

Harry frowned. He had memories of Draco doing that from quite a few lives, and it always angered him. Without really thinking, he shot his hand forward and snarled at his broom. "Up!"

And just like that, the broom, snapped up from the ground. Yet instead of jumping straight upwards and into his hand, the broom shot forward and upwards. It slammed hard against Draco's throat before anyone had time to react.

Draco dropped to the ground, a gurgling sound escaping from him. The entire class watched in horrified fascination as Draco writhed on the ground clutching at his throat. After a few minutes, he stilled. Everyone had just watched.

Parkinson knelt down beside him, and then gave Malfoy a quick shake. She touched his face, and then jerked her hand back, and fell backwards in apparent shock. She stared hard for a moment before turning towards Harry. "You'll be in Azkaban for this!"

Goyle knelt down as well, staring hard at Malfoy. Then he too turned and looked at Harry. A terrified, outrage filled his voice. "Merlin! You killed Draco!"

Crabbe's focus shifted from Malfoy towards Harry, a dark glare on his features, and his voice was also filled with anger. "You bastard!"

Reality twisted. There was that moment when there was nothing. No light. No dark. Nothing grew. Nothing decayed. For a single moment, less than a second, less than a heartbeat, there was absolutely nothing. No reality. A simple moment of non-existence as the universe blinked.

"Did you see that great lump?" Draco's voice said with clear amusement and darkly good cheer.

Now it was Harry's turn to blink. Standing there was Draco. Once again laughing. Goyle and Crabbe laughed right along with him, and Parkinson was giggling into her hand.

He frowned, before turning around looking at the other students. None of them looked out of place. Most of the Gryffindors were looking at Draco with disgust, but none of them had that horrified, deer-in-headlights, look they all had been wearing just moments before.

Harry pulled his wand. and snapped conjured a large anvil over Draco. It slammed into him with sickening squelch and crunch noises. A spray of blood and other things splashed across the entire group of students.

There was terrified screaming from everyone that time.

Goyle looked at him, and once again yelled, "Merlin! You killed Draco!"

"You bastard!" Crabbe snarled.

Then the universe blinked.

"Did you see that great lump?"

Harry looked down at his chest to find that he was once again clean and not covered with bits of Draco. He rubbed at his robe, verifying that fact. Frowning, he looked back up at Draco and once again pulled his wand.

With a quick flick of holly, Harry cast a levitation charm. Draco let out a terrified, girl-like squeal as he shot hundreds of feet into the air.

Then Harry canceled the spell.

The squeal changed into a terrified scream as everyone watched Draco fall to the ground. The blonde's screams echoing in the courtyard the entire time.

Screams that were cut off with a sudden thump. Harry blinked, slightly surprised at how little Draco squirted with that particular death.

After a moment, he shifted his attention and focused on Goyle. Goyle's focus was still on Draco, as he stared at the mangled remains which the other boy had become. Finally, Goyle looked up, and at Harry. "Merlin! You killed Draco!"

Crabbe, who had stumbled to the ground when Draco had come to a sudden stop at the end of his fall, finally looked up at Harry. His face was pale, and he looked slightly sick to the stomach. "You bastard!"

Then the universe blinked.

"Did you see that great lump?"

Spell Fire.

"Merlin, you killed Draco!"

"You bastard!"

Then the universe blinked.

"Did you see that great lump?"

Spell Fire.

"Merlin, you killed Draco!"

"You bastard!"

Then the universe blinked.

"Did you see that great lump?"

Spell Fire.

"Merlin, you killed Draco!"

"You bastard!"

Then the universe blinked.

"Did you see that great lump?"

Draco was leaning against Goyle, while Crabbe was leaning over his own legs. All of them laughing for all they were worth. A harsh, tense mocking laugh.

"Why won't you stay dead?"

Harry realized that he had asked that out loud when everyone began staring at him.

Frowning, he looked around for a rock. After a bit of a search, he found one about the size of his hand, and picked it up. He tossed it into the air before catching it. Nodding, he smiled down at the rock, before lifting that smile towards his classmates.

As one, the Gryffindors and most of the Slytherins took a step away from him.

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were too busy laughing though. Parkinson seemed to have realized that something was happening.

Calmly, Harry walked over to the still laughing Draco, and then smashed the rock into his face.

Blood flew as Draco crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain. Harry straddled the boy, and then brought the rock down onto him again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Harry let out a heavy breath as he dropped the bloody rock onto Draco's ruined face, and then he glanced up at the sky. He did not have to wait long.

"Merlin! You killed Draco!" Harry was not certain, but he was almost positive that that was still Goyle, but the other boy was not nearly as invested in the cry as he had been the first time. Or the fifth.

A heartbeat latter was Crabbe's response though. "You Bastard!"

Harry held his breath for a moment, waiting for that blink. Instead, he heard a voice from behind him.

A familiar voice.

An angry, familiar voice.

"Would you stop doing that you little prick?"

Harry glanced behind him to find Jeffery standing there, anger twisting his features. "I'm not sure how you're escaping the mass mind reconfigurations when we roll back time, but you need to stop that. There's only so many times we're supposed to reinsert someone into the time stream."

Harry nodded sagely. "Ah, I see. You just don't want me to waste all my times killing Draco right now. I've got to learn patience. That way I can kill him at random times over the next seven years! Thanks!"

Jeffery blinked at him, before sighing and shaking his head. He muttered something under his breath that sounded quite obscene. Harry just assumed it was about him in some way.

Then the universe blinked.

AN: all I've got to say is... I'm sorry.

The thing is that originally, I had two full scenes for REDUX that I immediately wrote out. That's not to say that the other hooks for the scenes weren't there. For example, I knew I'd have him use 'Marvolo' as a type of generic insult and name Hedwig, Volodimorte. I also knew that he'd push Draco out into oncoming traffic, and have a few other things in my list of things Harry should do during repeats.

But there was only 2 full scenes that I actually immediately wrote out. The 1st was where we discover that Harry had been stuck inside Reptilla's challenge for a significant amount of time. I mean, if there's a limit to the number of possible repeats, why would it be 7 or even 48 or some of the other numbers we often see in relation to the challenge? Thus, you have a Harry who has done this quite a number of times; and they (i.e. Death) just happened to break something with him this time.

The second full scene that I wrote out was this one (well, the broom portion of it, minus the character growth at the start). I mean, in this conceit we KNOW that Death/Fate/Whatever is tinkering with things. That being dead, doesn't mean that one stays dead. Since, another thing I had in my list of scene hooks were two more with Draco (one that is shown in Redux pt 5, and one associated with Redux pt 4 where he tosses Draco from the Express-that was sadly cut). Then I wrote out a hook, where he kills Draco during the broom lesson. Those four hooks, which included three distinct deaths for Draco, were what led to this scene, and the thought behind it. And as soon as the thought had appeared, I HAD to write it, and the broom lesson was the best place to flesh out the thought. As I said earlier, Death is tinkering, so people don't stay dead, and that made me think of another character who is famous for not staying dead.