Chapter Three - The Flying Lesson
The biggest problem with being in Slytherin was that it was impossible to get away from Draco Malfoy. It was bad enough having to share a dormitory without seeing him in the common room every day. Of course, they shared every class as well. To make matters even worse, it seemed that Malfoy went out of his way to bother Harry. He was sure to be seated within earshot during every meal, and managed to bump into Harry in the library so often it couldn't be mere coincidence.
"Oh hello there, Potter," Malfoy said in the common room one day. He was trying to sound casual, despite the fact that he had been standing nearby for the past fifteen minutes, loudly bragging about his flying skills to anyone who would listen and casting desperate glances Harry's way to see if he'd caught his attention. Harry ignored him, of course, but Malfoy proved to be resilient. "Don't know if you saw the notice. We'll be starting our flying lessons this Thursday."
"Yeah. I saw it, Malfoy."
"I'm an excellent flier, myself," Malfoy continued, "The lessons will probably be useless to me. Though I am concerned about the brooms they give us. I heard half of them won't even fly."
Harry grunted.
"It's a real pity they don't let first years have their own brooms. Bloody stupid idea if you ask me."
Harry grunted again. He was starting to sound more like Crabbe and Goyle with each passing minute. He supposed this was simply the effect Malfoy had on people. Weeks of classes with them and Harry was certain he'd heard neither Crabbe nor Goyle utter a single word. Malfoy did all the talking.
"Of course, my father would have bought me a Nimbus 2000 if I'd gotten on the Slytherin team this year. But they never let first years play, even one as talented as I am."
"Oh my god, Malfoy," Harry interrupted with an exasperated sigh, "Does that really work for you? I mean, this whole braggy attitude of yours? Is that how you usually make friends?"
Malfoy stared at Harry as if he'd been slapped in the face.
"Well… Yes, usually," he admitted. "Are you saying you aren't impressed?"
"Not really. No."
Malfoy sniffed and brought himself up to his full height, which was not very substantial. "Well then, I suppose you must think yourself an excellent flier. I must say I'm surprised, since I hear you were raised by muggles. But then I suppose nothing's too difficult for the Famous Harry Potter."
"That's right." Harry said with a lot more confidence than he felt. In truth, he was both excited and terrified by the idea of flying. Every time he thought about it his stomach became so twisted with conflicting emotions that he felt like he was going to throw up. He just hoped that wouldn't happen while hovering above the heads of the other students.
"What do you suppose it will be like?" Harry asked his friends at breakfast on the morning of their first lesson.
Blaise smeared marmalade on a piece of toast while he thought.
"Well, I'm going to be amazing, of course. Born on the back of broomstick, I was. And I'm not kidding. Bit difficult for my mum, as you can imagine. But that's a story for another day. Millie will end up breaking her poor broom over her knee out of frustration and envy. And as for you, Harry. I expect you'll fall off and break every bone in your body. But don't worry. I hear Madame Pomfrey has a potion for everything."
Blaise's confidence in the abilities of his friends did nothing to soothe Harry's concerns as they waited on the Quidditch field for the first flying lesson. Harry had never seen anything like it. The field was a large oval, bordered by tall, thin towers. Harry stared up at the massive structures and swallowed the lump that was forming in this throat.
The Gryffindors were scheduled to share this class with them. They trickled onto the field soon after the arrival of the Slytherins, many looking just as nervous as Harry felt. Harry noticed Ron Weasley immediately, though the red-haired boy avoided eye-contact. Harry hadn't spoken to him since Millicent threatened him after potions class, and he still felt a bit guilty. The odds of rekindling his friendship with Weasley seemed pretty slim now.
When their teacher, Madame Hooch arrived, she started barking orders immediately.
"What are you waiting for?" she said sharply, "All of you, stand next to a broom! Everyone have one? Good, now stick your right hand over the broom and say up!"
"UP!" the students chorused obediently.
Harry was thrilled when his broom leapt directly into his hand. His was one of the few that did. Most of the brooms stayed firmly on the ground, rolling slightly from side to side. Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor who seemed unusually accident prone, wound up with a broom that slapped him sharply in the face before falling back to the ground. Harry turned to see that Blaise was one of the lucky few who had his broom up on the first try. He grinned at Harry and winked. Harry wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue in response.
"Come on! Those of you who haven't got it try again!" Madam Hooch commanded.
The students again did as they were bid, crying out "Up!" at random intervals. Harry suppressed a giggle when he saw that Millicent's broom was proving to be unusually stubborn, until she glared at it and hissed "Up!" in a tone that allowed for no arguments. The broom jumped into her hand instantly and remained there, trembling as if afraid.
Once they all had their brooms in hand, Madame Hooch showed them all how to mount without sliding off the end. She had to correct Malfoy's grip several times because he kept insisting that he knew the proper way to do it. Finally she gave up, saying, "Fine, if you want to go rocketing headfirst into the side of the castle, then be my guest. I dare say no one will miss you."
"My father will…" Malfoy muttered as she moved on to other students.
"Somehow I doubt that," Blaise whispered to Harry.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground hard," said Madame Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle… Three – Two – "
But Longbottom, nervous and unwilling to fly since the class began, pushed off too soon. Ironically, it was he alone who rose like a shot above the heads of his classmates, leaving solid earth far behind.
"Boy, come back here!" shouted Madame Hooch. But it was clear that Neville didn't have much control over his current situation. The class watched in horror as he gasped, tilted sideways on his broom, and fell to the ground with a heavy THUD. His broomstick, bored with the proceedings, continued to drift away toward the Forbidden Forest, never to be seen again.
Madame Hooch was at Neville's side in a flash, followed closely by a group of concerned Gryffindors. Harry and the other Slytherins followed as well, mostly out of curiosity, though they hung back from the others.
"Broken wrist…" Harry managed to hear Madame Hooch say quietly before she turned to address the rest of the class, "Listen up! I'm going to take this boy to the hospital wing! Now I know you're all only eleven years old and you probably don't have much sense to share between you, but if you value your stay here at Hogwarts you'll keep your feet firmly on the ground until I get back! I'm serious! I see one broom in the air and I'll expel the lot of you!"
"I don't understand," Harry said to Blaise and Millicent as Madame Hooch swept away. "Why doesn't she just cancel class? Or at least send one of us with Neville instead of going herself?"
"Completely mad, every teacher here," said Blaise offhandedly.
Malfoy suddenly burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"
A few of the other Slytherins chucked along with Malfoy, though Harry's group was not among them.
"Shut up, Malfoy," said a Gryffindor Harry recognized as Parvati Patil.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard faced Slytherin girl who actually seemed to like Malfoy. Harry thought they'd be perfect for each other as she continued to say, "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies."
"Look!" cried Malfoy, dashing forward. He stooped down and picked up something shiny in the grass. "It's that stupid thing of Longbottom's."
Harry looked at the object in Malfoy's hand. It seemed to be nothing more than a clear orb, but Harry was starting to learn that looks could be deceiving in the magical world. He had no idea what it was, but he did know how much he disliked Draco Malfoy.
"Give it back, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. Everyone abruptly stopped talking to watch.
Malfoy smiled with mock sweetness, "Do you want it, Potter?"
"I don't even know what it is. Just give it back."
"To who? Longbottom? He's long gone. Maybe I should leave it somewhere for him to find. How about… Up a tree?"
"You heard Harry. Give it here, Malfoy!" Blaise yelled, but Malfoy had jumped onto his broom and sped away. Turns out he hadn't exactly been lying about being able to fly well. He was soon balanced high above the others, floating level with the lowest of the Quidditch hoops.
"Fancy a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he called down mockingly.
Harry grabbed his broom and mounted it.
"No!" shouted Hermione Granger from the cluster of Gryffindors, "Didn't you hear what Madame Hooch said? You'll get us all expelled!"
Harry ignored her. He tightened his grip on the handle of his rickety broom and kept his eyes locked on Malfoy's distant form. Just as he was about to push off, Millicent muttered at his side, "Harry… You don't know how to fly."
Harry rose off the ground unsteadily, but too fast to stop. And he kept rising. He suddenly understood very clearly exactly what Neville must have felt only moments before. Realizing that it was too late to go back now, Harry turned his attention again to Malfoy, who had stopped showing off for a moment to watch Harry with interest.
Somehow Harry managed to stop the broom's ascent once he was level with Malfoy. They stared at each other, a few yards apart, while Harry tried to figure out what to do next.
"Give it to me or I'll knock you off your broom!" Harry said in desperation, hardly knowing if he'd even be able to move the broom forward.
Malfoy must have heard the uncertainly in Harry's voice, because he sneered and tossed the orb into the air, catching it again with one hand. "Oh yeah? Why don't you come over here and say that to me?"
Harry had no idea what he was doing, but he was starting to feel a little unsteady on his broom. Acting on instinct, Harry tightened his grip on the broom and leaned over the handle, trying to prevent himself from falling. Suddenly, he was rocketing toward Malfoy. The other boy barely had time to move out of the way. Harry straightened up quickly and willed the broom to slow down again, then he pivoted to face Malfoy in a way that must have looked very stylish from the ground, but was purely an accident on Harry's part.
"I won't miss next time, Malfoy," Harry said with false bravado, "No Crabbe and Goyle to save your skin up here."
To Harry's surprise, Malfoy actually looked shaken. In an effort to muster the same cavalier attitude as Harry, he shrugged and held up the orb once again.
"Have it your way, then. Catch."
Harry watched as Malfoy chucked the orb as far as he could before racing back to the ground. Before Harry realized what was happening, he had tilted forward on his broom. Suddenly he found himself plummeting toward the ground, the screams of the students watching below ringing in his ears. Harry, unable to pull out of the dive, saw that just ahead of him the orb was glittering. It seemed to be moving in slow motion, and he figured if he kept going like he was, he just might be able to catch it before they both hit the ground. Harry stretched out his hand, willing his broom to move faster, but he was still too far away.
Harry found himself urging the broom to move faster still. He leaned farther over the front of his broom, stretching his arm out as far as it would go, willing his fingers to grow just a bit longer to catch the little glittering orb. Harry started to panic when he saw the ground rising to meet him, but he was so close... Seconds before impact, he felt the cool glass surface with his fingertips and snatched it out of the air. He pulled at the handle to lift himself up again, reversing the dive. Breathless from his near collision with the ground, he allowed his feet to drop beneath him and anchor himself once again to solid earth.
He was just in time to hear a stern voice shout, "HARRY POTTER!"
His heart sank and he wished he hadn't survived the fall. It was Professor McGonagall running out to meet him. Her eyes flashed furiously behind her glasses as she swooped down upon him. She was nearly speechless with anger. "Never… In all my years…! Could have killed yourself!" was all she managed to say.
"Don't be mad, Professor!" Blaise shouted as he and the other students ran toward them, "It wasn't Harry's fault!"
"Yes it was!" Ron Weasley yelled, "He stole Neville's rememberall!"
"You liar!" Millicent screeched, giving Ron a look that turned his face white as a ghost, "Malfoy's the one that took it!"
"Well maybe Harry and his friends shouldn't play catch with other people's things!" spat Parvati Patil.
"Quiet! All of you!" commanded professor McGonagall. "I don't care who's responsible! To be flying like that! And without supervision! Potter, you follow me. The rest of you go back to your common rooms! If I see even one of you in the air again, you'll be spending the rest of your time here at Hogwarts as a pig!"
To emphasize her intent, McGonagall whipped out her wand and transformed all of their brooms to toothpicks with just a flick of her wrist.
Harry caught sight of Malfoy's triumphant face as he was dragged away by the professor. His last fleeting hope as he headed to what was no doubt his expulsion was that Blaise and Millie would avenge him.
McGonagall was hard to keep up with as she strode into the castle. Harry had to jog to keep pace with her, and if he started to fall behind her nails would dig into his arm where she kept her firm grip on him.
"Professor… Do you mind letting me go? I'm not going to run away or anything. I don't have anywhere to go."
He was trying to make his voice as pitiful as possible. Maybe if he played to McGonagall's sympathies she wouldn't destroy him. But if he was looking for pity he was talking to the wrong person.
Without lessening her grip, McGonagall asked, "Was that your first time on a broom, Mr. Potter?"
"Y-yes…"
"Hm. It is a pity..."
"Professor?"
"Well frankly, Potter, you have talent. You lack experience, but the way you pulled out of that dive was astonishing."
Harry didn't know what to say. He was expecting Professor McGonagall to transform him into something unpleasant, not compliment him on his flying.
"… Well, to be honest with you, Professor, I was mostly trying not to die."
"Did I hear Weasley say you had something of Longbottom's?"
Harry passed her the little glass orb.
"And did you steal it?"
"No." Harry said simply. "I caught it."
"You caught it? This is what you were after with that dive?"
"Yes. But do you mind giving it back? I'd like to return it to Longbottom, if I could. He's in the hospital wing."
McGonagall stared at him with an unfathomable expression, and Harry was left feeling that he had made some kind of mistake. He lowered his head and stared at his shoes in an attitude of repentance.
They were no longer rushing at breakneak speed through the corridors. McGonagall had paused in the middle of the hall to inspect Harry. She was quiet for a few moments before she said, "Your father was an excellent Quidditch player, you know."
Harry's head snapped up and he stared at her in surprise. He'd never thought about the possibility of any of his teachers knowing his parents, but of course they had both been students at Hogwarts themselves. Harry opened his mouth to ask McGonagall if she had taught his father when a dark figure swept in front of them.
"Something the matter, Minerva?" Snape asked coolly, eyeing Harry with suspicion.
"Severus, I was just on my way to see you," said McGonagall, and Harry's heart plummeted. It made sense for her to take Harry to his head of house for punishment, but Snape was the least likely person in the whole school to show Harry any leniency. Harry seemed to be the only Slytherin that Snape couldn't stand.
"I caught Potter flying without supervision on the Quidditch pitch. I thought I would refer him to you, as he's a member of your house."
Snape broke off from glaring at Harry to blink at McGonagall in surprise. "My house?" he echoed.
"Yes, Severus," McGonagall said, her eyes closing in exasperation, "Harry Potter is in Slytherin. I hope as his head of house you will think of an appropriate punishment for him?
"Ah, yes... Fifty points from Gryffindor, then."
"Slytherin, Severus."
"What did I say?"
"You said Gryffindor. How many times must I explain that Potter was sorted into Slytherin?"
Snape frowned. He wouldn't look at Harry. "Fine... Ten points from Slytherin."
McGonagall looked shocked, "Is that all? Severus, he has seriously misbehaved. Riding a broom, unsupervised; he could have killed himself!"
"Really?" asked Snape, sounding slightly disappointed that this isn't exactly what had come to pass.
McGonagall glared at him, "He deserves a proper punishment, Severus. Detention would be a nice place to start."
"Minerva, if you have such strong ideas about how to discipline my students, by all means he's at your disposal," Snape said icily. It seemed the only thing he disliked more than Harry was being bossed around by Professor McGonagall. His eyes, full of dislike, flickered again in Harry's direction before he continued, "At any rate, it would be my pleasure to assign Potter detention."
"Fine. Then if you don't mind taking over from here, I believe one of my own students is in the hospital wing. I'll be going to have a look at him."
Snape waved her away with what Harry considered to be a stunning display of disrespect. He never would have dared speak to Professor McGonagall in that way, and he found himself slightly impressed by Snape's daring. He expected Snape to say something to him about his detention as McGonagall walked away, but Snape was already sweeping off in the opposite direction.
"Er... Professor?" Harry asked uncertainly, running to catch up with Snape's longer stride.
Snape looked both shocked and appalled to see that Harry was following him. "What… Is it… Potter?" He hissed between his teeth as if each word was painful for him to pronounce.
"It's just that… Well… Thank you. I thought I was going to be expelled for sure."
"Save your breath, Potter. I didn't do it for you!" declared Snape, and he swept away again without another word.
"You have got to be joking."
Blaise and Millicent stared at Harry from across the dining table. Harry had just finished telling them the whole story of what had happened that afternoon, from leaving the Quidditch field up to his odd conversation with Snape. His friends had listened with little interruption all the way through, carefully silencing their comments with mouthfuls food. Harry's plate sat empty before him. He didn't feel like eating.
Harry shook his head in bewilderment, "I don't understand it either. If he wasn't doing it to help me, then why did he do it for? It's obvious he hates me."
"Yeah, what's with that anyway?" Blaise asked, "He doesn't have a problem with any of the other Slytherins."
"I think maybe he doesn't realize I'm in his house?" Harry guessed, "So he's treating me like a Gryffindor or something?"
"Did he say anything about detention?" asked Millicent.
"No... Maybe he forgot?"
Blaise and Millie shrugged and continued to eat their food for a few moments in silence, mulling over separate thoughts. Blaise suddenly gave Harry a wide grin.
"You caught the Rememberall, though. That dive was amazing."
Millicent scoffed, "Dive? It's called falling, Blaise. Muggles can do it just as well."
"Unbelievable!"
Harry and the others jumped. Ron Weasley was standing just behind Harry, glaring at him with a hateful expression on his face. For a moment Harry thought he'd overheard their conversation and was jealous, but it soon became apparent that such was not the case.
"Why aren't you on a train headed back home? You should've gotten expelled for that little stunt today!"
"It wasn't my fault!" Harry protested. But Ron wasn't listening.
"I think I'm starting to see why the hat put you in Slytherin. You're all the same!"
Harry heard Blaise and Millicent stand up. He didn't need to turn around to guess what kind of expressions they had on their faces.
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Millicent asked.
"If you have a problem with us, Weasley, I can think of a few ways to settle it," Blaise said threateningly.
Ron, thin and gangling but unusually tall for an eleven-year old, did not appear intimidated. His glare flickered between Harry and Blaise as he said, "Alright. Wizard duel. Midnight. The Trophy Room."
Harry had never heard of a wizard duel before, but he thought he had a pretty good idea of what it would entail. He was also pretty sure that he hadn't learned enough spells to really be a good duelist, unless making Ron's nose slightly smaller could be considered useful. But he was saved from having to turn down Ron's offer by Blaise, who again stepped up to defend Harry.
"Wizard duel!" Blaise shouted laughingly, drawing the stairs of several surrounding students, "Why wait? I'm sure Millie could take you on right now."
Ron had seemingly forgotten about the hulking figure of Millicent. He jumped in fright when he turned to look at her, her quiet glare doing more to intimidate Ron than Blaise's words ever could.
"She's brilliant at hexes," Blaise continued, "But even better at good old-fashioned fisticuffs. What do you say, Weasley? Care for a brawl?"
Ron's freckled face flushed scarlet and he took a few steps back from the table, muttering a few curses under his breath. His eyes met Harry's again, and he scowled.
"Nice friends you have there, Potter. Glad to see you fit in so well."
He walked away before Harry had time to respond. Harry watched him sulk off to the Gryffindor table, where he planted himself between two other first-years and begin talking with them – about Harry, he was certain. His anger hurt Harry, who still desperately wanted to be friends again. But he was also angry at the injustice of Ron's accusations. Perhaps his insinuation would have insulted Harry at the beginning of the year, but now he didn't mind. It wasn't an insult to fit in with Blaise and Millie.
"Forget him, Harry," Millicent said, mistaking Harry's silence for sadness, "There's something else I wanted to talk about, anyway."
"Something other than Harry's amazing flying skills or Snape's many peculiarities?" Blaise asked. "I can't imagine what it could be."
"Actually, it's about that package. The one Harry saw Hagrid take out of Gringrotts."
Millicent had Harry's full attention, but Blaise shushed her immediately.
"Don't talk about it here!" he cautioned, jerking his thumb toward Malfoy. As usual, he was sitting only a few seats down the table from them. Harry saw him turn away, but it was obvious he had been listening to their conversation.
"C'mon," said Harry, standing up from his seat. He wanted to hear what Millicent had to say, and he wasn't about to wait around for a better time. Knowing that Malfoy wouldn't risk following them out of the Great Hall, Harry led his friends away. He would have walked straight back to the common room, but Blaise soon took the lead. Together the three of them walked outdoors and down to the edge of the lake. Here Blaise stopped, out in the open.
"There. Now no one can sneak up on us. You were saying, Millie?"
Harry turned to look at Millicent with interest, hoping what whatever she had to say about the mysterious package warranted the hike they had just made to prevent being overheard.
"Well, I've been thinking. Hagrid said he was picking up the package for Dumbledore, right?"
Harry nodded. They had puzzled over the parcel many times since first hearing about the Gringotts break-in. Usually it was just something to talk about when they were bored of homework. But Harry had managed to convince himself and his friends that the attempted robbery of the goblin bank had been connected to Hagrid's errand that day. It couldn't have been a coincidence.
Millicent took a deep breath and said, "I think whatever it is, it's hidden somewhere in the school."
Harry and Blaise glanced at each other. Harry didn't want to admit that he had been thinking the same thing, but he did want to hear what Millicent had to say to support her theory.
"Evidence?" Blaise asked.
"Dumbledore must have known someone was going to try to steal it," said Millicent, "So he had Hagrid go pick it up."
"Obvious," said Blaise. They had covered this ground already.
"Right. But Gringotts is supposed to be impenetrable. It's never been broken into like this before. So if Dumbledore thought someone was going to attempt a robbery anyway, where would he have placed the package that would be safer than Gringotts?"
"Here?" asked Harry with incredulity, "But this is a school! Why should it be any safer here than at the wizard bank?"
Millicent shrugged, "Well, Dumbledore could keep a closer eye on it here than he could if it's locked in a vault somewhere."
Blaise began nodding his head vigorously, "And Hogwarts is one of the most enchanted buildings in Europe. It's supposedly got secret rooms and corridors no one has ever explored before. There would be plenty of places to hide something..."
"But what's he hidden anyway?" Harry asked. They had spent many an afternoon trying to pry this information out of Hagrid, but he always seemed to suddenly have a chore that needed completing at that very moment whenever they mentioned it, and he would shoo them away.
"Not what, but where?" Millicent noted, "It like Blaise said. The castle has a lot of hiding places."
"I've got it!" Blaise suddenly cried in a moment of inspiration, "The forbidden corridor!"
"Huh?" Harry and Millie chorused in unison.
"The one on the third floor! Dumbledore warned us all that it's off limits this year. The older students all say that it wasn't that way last year. He must have it hidden there!"
Harry didn't need any more convincing. They still didn't know what had been hidden, but he felt certain that his friends were right. The small, grubby package he'd last seen shoved in Hagrid's pocket was now lying somewhere in the forbidden corridor.
But what did it have to do with him?
"I wish we knew what it was." Harry commented wistfully.
"We could check it out," Blaise said, a mischievous grin overspreading his features, "Sneak out after dark and check the corridor while everyone is sleeping?"
"With Malfoy in the room with us? You know he'd just wake up and spoil everything."
"Alright, then Millie can go check."
Millicent looked appalled, "I'm not going by myself!"
Blaise threw his hands in the air and began walking back toward the school, "Alright, fine! You two are no fun."
Harry and Millicent exchanged a look and began racing back toward the castle after their friend.
"You know," said Millicent, "It's probably booby trapped anyway."