"Show them to me." Harry said the next morning at lunch. He was starting to
hear a few of Blaise's strong thoughts, but according to Blaise, she could
hear almost all of his thoughts. Feeling very self-conscious, he tried to
keep his thoughts quelled.
"What?" She whispered.
"Show me the other ones."
"You mean . . . like me?" Blaise asked softly. Harry nodded. "Okay . . . there." She pointed subtlely and quickly returned to her toast. Harry glanced casually at where she'd pointed. A girl with long, dark golden hair and a very pretty face was smiling rather nastily to the Hufflepuffs. She seemed tall, and very slim, with a dark tan that brought out her bright blue eyes.
"Avery?" he asked, turning back to Blaise.
"The one and only," Her lip was curled as she inspected the jam.
"Where are the other two?" he queried, drawing her attention away from the jam. Blaise scanned the table before nodding. Harry looked to where she'd nodded. A boy with reddish-gold hair that reached the bottom of his ears was watching his empty plate intently with golden-brown eyes. As Harry looked at him he raised his eyes and gazed straight at Harry.
"That's Cepheus Major," Blaise informed him. "Me and him used to be friends because we were the only kids at my mother's parties, but after we got the Mark . . ."
"He and I." Harry corrected her grammar absently as Major looked back down at his plate.
"Yeah, whatever. Look, there's Caelum Nott." Harry tore his eyes away from Cepheus Major to see another boy seated at the opposite end of the Slytherin table. This boy was eating ravenously, talking animatedly to a group of Slytherin girls who were watching him adoringly. And Harry knew the reason for their star-struck gazes: the boy was a blonde with blue eyes. Even Slytherin girls considered this to qualify as good-looking.
"And then there's you." He muttered, looking back at Blaise.
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry, I've ruined your life and - "
"Shut up, Blaise." He ordered, and his tone left no room for argument. Blaise closed her mouth and met his searching green eyes.
Before either could say more, several people from the table and the other tables around them rose to leave. /Must be almost time for class/, Harry thought. Blaise's solemn face broke into a grin.
"First flying lesson!" She explained as she hurriedly stuffed her books into her bag.
"Flying?" Harry asked. Blaise's eyes went wide as they rose.
"I didn't tell you about Quidditch?"
"What-itch?"
"I'll explain as we go. Onto the grounds, you know. Well, come on! Follow me!"
* * *
As Harry stood by the broomstick, holding his hand over it, about to order it up under the watchful yellow eyes of Madam Hooch, all he knew about Quidditch was that you flew around on a broomstick and tried to score using the Sniffle, or something like that, and that it was /the/ Wizard's game. And, of course, that they were about to learn how to fly.
"Up!" He ordered, like everyone else, both Gryffindor and Slytherin, but unlike everyone else, his broom jumped into his hand. He glanced at Blaise to see her face contorted in concentration and her broom half- hovering a foot above the ground. He looked around at the other Slytherins. Malfoy's broom struggled into his hand on his third 'up'. Then to the Gryffindors to see Hermione's merely roll over.
Though some people had to pick theirs up, eventually everyone got their brooms in their hands. They were instructed on how to mount and hold their brooms, and Harry was surprised to find that he'd done everything right the first time without being told. He and Blaise were particularly pleased to hear Hooch tell Malfoy he'd been holding his broom wrong for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Hooch, up at the front to the two parallel rows of Gryffindor and Slytherin students. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"
A pudgy, round-faced boy from the Gryffindor side pushed off hard before the whistle even made contact with Hooch's mouth.
"Come back, boy!" she cried in a strikingly hawk-like voice, but the Gryffindor was rising straight up into the sky - twelve feet - twenty feet. Harry caught of glimpse of a scared white face looking down at the ground that was so rapidly leaving him behind, saw a gasp, saw the boy slip sideways off the broom and -
WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and the Gryffindor lay facedown on the grass in a crumpled heap. Harry watched his broomstick for a moment as it rose higher and higher toward the Forbidden Forest and out of sight. Then he looked back to the boy.
Hooch was bending over him, her face whiter than his was. Harry heard an indistinct mutter - the boy had fallen off at the Gryffindor end and they were too far away for him to hear. Hooch helped him up and turned to face the class, the boy held close to her side.
"None of you are 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."
The boy, his paled face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist (Harry suspected that it was broken or badly sprained), hobbled off with Madam Hooch.
No sooner were they out of view than Malfoy burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins, save Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus Major (who merely kicked at the grass, clutching his broom protectively) joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy." A Gryffindor snapped.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a pug-faced Slytherin who absolutely adored Malfoy. "Never thought /you'd/ like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
"Look!" exclaimed Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass near where Longbottom had fallen. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
A glass ball the size of a large marble, seemingly full of white smoke, glittered in the sun as he held it up. Harry heard Blaise gasp slightly beside him.
"It's a Remembrall, he's taken a Remembrall! Those things are expensive!" she whispered furiously to him.
Harry saw a red-haired Gryffindor move forward angrily, broom still clutched in his hand, his knuckles turning white.
"Give it here, Malfoy!" he shouted, and everyone stopped talking to listen. Malfoy smiled rather nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - maybe - up a tree?"
"Give it HERE!" the redhead yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He soared up to the topmost branches of an oak and called, "Come get it, Weasley!"
Weasley made to mount his broom, but Harry had already pushed off. He soared right past the Weasley boy and up toward Malfoy. The wind rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him. He grinned fiercely as he realized that this was something that was as natural to him as staying balanced while walking. He didn't need to be shown how to do this; he could just /do/ it. He pulled the handle of his broomstick up to take it even higher and heard a few screams from girls and gasps from guys, mingling with an admiring whoop from Blaise. He was surprised to feel a deep sense of fierce pride invade his mind: it was Blaise's pride. She was proud of him.
He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair, allowing his fierce grin to become maniacal when he caught sight of Malfoy's stunned face.
"What are you doing up here, Potter?" Malfoy finally said. Harry flicked his head a little to get rid of a few stray strands of black hair.
"I couldn't resist a chance to humiliate you, Malfoy. Now, let's see that Remembrall, ay?" Harry grinned wider.
"Wondering if you've forgotten anything, Potter? Like perhaps what House you've been Sorted into?" Malfoy sneered. Harry's grin faded and he set his face angrily.
"No, I think you have, Malfoy. I don't remember Slytherin House's qualities being described as cowardly." He shot back, quite pleased to see Malfoy's pale face turning whiter at the dark anger that was written on Harry's face. "So why don't you give me that Remembrall and I won't have to knock you off that broom, alright?"
"Oh, you're going to knock me off my broom? Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, keeper of Slytherin qualities, is going to knock me off my broom?" Malfoy sneered. Harry smiled, a sticky sweet, fake smile. He could feel Malfoy's unease as the boy's face lost the before-present smugness. Without warning Harry leaned forward so that his chin grazed the broom handle and it shot forward like a slingshot. Malfoy only barely got away, and Harry let out a harsh laugh as he saw the shock and fright in Malfoy's expression. He made a sharp about-face, not listening to the few people that were clapping back down on the ground.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your scrawny neck, Draco!" Harry called, remembering the two enormous Slytherins Malfoy always kept as bodyguards.
The same thought seemed to have just struck Malfoy.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted and threw the glass ball. He really does have a good aim, thought Harry. The ball reached its maximum velocity and streaked back toward the ground.
Compelled by a feeling he'd never experienced before, Harry pointed his broom handle down and flattened himself against it - the next second he was hurtling toward the ground. The wind stung his face and tore at his eyes - he could feel his hair being blown away from his face, and the wind felt strangely soothing on his scar - he could vaguely hear the screams of the Gryffindors and Slytherins as he raced the flying ball - this was great, this was better than great! Harry laughed once, twice, diving toward the ground, and he held out his hand - a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight and land on the ground smoothly, the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. He stepped off of his broom, and took a good look at the Remembrall. The smoke was red.
"MR. POTTER!"
Harry looked up sharply to see Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, striding toward him. He'd landed very near to the group of Gryffindors and Slytherins, and Blaise and Hermione seemed to have been making their way toward him. /Oh yes/, he thought, /I forgot that anyone trying to fly would be expelled/.
"Come with me." Snape said silkily as he drew close enough not to have to yell. Immediately people began talking.
"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"
"Be quiet, Miss Zabini -" he snapped at Blaise.
"Malfoy -"
"That goes for you too, Mr. Major -" Harry shot a look at Cepheus Major, who was almost glaring at Snape. That was odd. Major never spoke. "Potter, come with me."
Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy's smirking face, sending a reassuring thought toward Blaise and a look toward both her and Hermione as he passed them. Then he kept his eyes trained on the back of Snape's billowing robes.
He tried to keep the thought of 'I'm going to be expelled' from running through his head as they strode to the castle, but it appeared anyway.
/No you won't!/
Harry nearly stopped in his tracks. Long distance, he thought with amusement. He wondered how far away he could exchange thoughts with Blaise at.
Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Snape didn't say a word to him. He shoved open the doors and marched along corridors with Harry following him briskly, still holding his broom. Was Snape taking him to Dumbledore? Surely Dumbledore wouldn't send Harry back to the streets? Harry swallowed, the hand holding his broom shaking, knuckles white. Not the Dursleys, not the Dursleys!
Snape stopped outside a classroom. He opened the door and spoke.
"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall. I need to borrow Flint."
Flint? Thought Harry, bewildered. Was Snape going to set him on fire?
But Flint turned out to be a person, a tall sixth year boy who came out of McGonagall's class looking slightly confused, but sneering so that Harry could see every one of his horribly unaligned teeth. Harry fought not to show any sign of his revulsion. Snape may yet decide to set him on fire.
"Follow me." Snape said curtly and they marched on up the corridor, Flint shooting Harry looks. Harry narrowed his eyes in return, using his broom as a sort of walking stick.
"Here." Snape pointed them into an empty classroom. He closed the door behind them and turned to face them, black eyes lingering first on Harry then turning to Flint.
"This is Marcus Flint. Flint, here's your Seeker."
Flint's expression morphed from sneering puzzlement to doubt.
"Him? He's a first year, Professor Snape."
"I'm sure with a little persuasion Dumbledore will let us bend the rules - after all, we're in need of a Seeker."
Flint's doubt still lingered slightly, but he began walking around Harry. Harry stood stock still, eyes trained on the chalkboard at the front of the class, reminded of the muggle military boot camp.
"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty foot dive, Flint," Snape said, gesturing toward the Remembrall, which Harry looked down at. "Was that your first time on a broom, Potter?"
"Yes." Harry replied, fighting not to say 'sir' and salute Snape.
"He's a natural." Snape finished.
"Ever heard of Quidditch Potter?" Flint asked, his tone devoid of the usual sneer. Harry nodded his head.
"Flint's Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team." Snape explained in a clipped tone. Harry looked at him, then back to Flint.
"Good build for a Seeker, light, speedy. Have to have a good broom, preferably a Nimbus 2000." Flint said as he circled Harry like a vulture.
"Of course. I was quite pleased at the look on Professor McGonagall's face when we won last time. With Higgs unable to play, we need a Seeker just as good as him, if not better. Train him hard, Flint. And you, Potter," Snape turned to Harry, who met his black gaze steadily. "you'd better train hard or I might change my mind about punishing you. Back to class, Flint, and you too, Potter." And with that Snape stalked out of the classroom. Flint turned to Harry.
"Next Monday, Potter, five a.m., you'd better be there."
And then Flint was gone too. Harry looked down at the broom. He really didn't feel like returning to the flying lesson, even though it was almost over. Making up his mind, he strode out of the classroom and walked down toward the Slytherin common room, ignoring the stares from inside the open doors of classrooms. He hadn't noticed the open doors, but now the stares made him feel quite self-conscious.
When he finally reached the Slytherin common room he glanced at the wizarding clock that told you what class you were supposed to be in. At the top of the square clock the words 'Harry Potter, First Year' appeared in silver handwriting, and a large green arrow appeared below it, pointing to the space in between 'Flying Lesson with Madam Hooch' and 'Dinner'. Harry set down the broom carefully on the chair by the fire and walked up the stairs to the First Year Boys dorm. He strolled inside, staying as far away as possible from Malfoy's bed. He'd been lucky to get the one farthest from the door, which was where Malfoy slept (near the door). Next to Harry was Cepheus Major, then Caelum Nott, then Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Malfoy's cronies, and, last and definitely least, Malfoy. It was quite a comfortable arrangement, thought Harry as he knelt by his trunk. As long as he didn't have to sleep beside Malfoy, he was okay.
"Sadie." He hissed as he opened his trunk. His little charcoal- colored snake raised her head, looking at Harry blearily.
"'Sssssss morning?" she asked. Harry smiled.
"Yes, it's almost time for dinner."
Sadie shot up, uncoiling rapidly and heading for Harry's outstretched arm.
"Arrrrre you going to feeeed me thissss time?" She asked as she slithered under his robe sleeve. Harry shivered slightly at the sensation.
"Yes, I suppose I can sneak you something. But it might look a little weird for me to just go putting food up my sleeve."
"Why doooooon't you let me outtttt? I'll sssstay low, I prrrrromisssse."
Harry pondered this for a moment,
"Sure. Just don't go wandering off. Stay close."
"Yessss ssssir." Sadie curled up around his biceps. Harry flexed his fingers once before shutting his trunk and rising, heading out of the dormitory and back to the common room.
"Nice nap?" he asked his arm.
"Yessss. Verrrry nissssse (A/N: you know, nice?)."
"Good." Harry replied as he grabbed the broom and exited the room.
* * *
"You're joking."
It was dinnertime. Sadie was roaming their area of the table, sneaking some food every now and then. Harry had just told Blaise and Hermione (who'd come over demanding he tell her what on earth he was thinking) about his new Quidditch position.
"That's a very big accomplishment, Harry. The last First year to be on their House team was a century ago. I read it in Hogwarts, A History (A/N: Couldn't resist)."
"Wow! That's cool! I'll have to explain Quidditch to you, Harry! Wanna go flying after dinner? You come too, Mione, we'll have a roaring good time!" Blaise exclaimed, looking very excited. Harry smiled; it sounded good to him. But Hermione had a regretful look on her face.
"I really need to get to work on that Transfiguration essay . . ." she trailed off, looking at the pudding. Blaise made a face.
"That one about beetles and buttons?"
"Yes, I'm only half done -"
"Look, Mione, we'll fly for a bit then we'll all go down to the Slytherin common room and do the essay together." Blaise wheedled, but Hermione looked up quickly.
"Oh, no! If we're going to work on the essay, we're going to Gryffindor! I'm not going to be in the /common room/ of the Slytherins! No offense to you, Harry and Blaise, but I'd prefer to be surrounded by people who don't despise me and by the red and gold of Gryffindor." Hermione insisted.
"Touching, Mione, touching. We'll go to Gryffindor if you'll come flying." Harry compromised. Hermione considered this offer for a moment before nodding.
"Deal."
Harry smiled.
Blaise grinned.
Sadie choked on a mouthful of chocolate pudding.
A/N: Hiya! Sorry I was late last time. But here I am! Did you like this chapter? Gotta be one of the longest ones I've written - seven pages of pure Harry and Blaise-ness! Well, there's also Flint and Malfoy and Snape and Cepheus Major (my creation, by the way ::blushes::) and all these other dudes! So it isn't pure! And I'm just a raving lunatic! Don't mind me! Next chapter: Out flying! Then studying! And other stuff! Like maybe if I have enough room talking to Dumbledore!
Reviews:
Rayvern: Uh huh. Yup yup. That's partially the point. I had considered having Blaise get the diary in Year Two (if I got that far) but then I thought no! That's defeating the purpose! So Ginny's still gonna get it. But I dunno, some events are gonna get switched around because Blaise's all bonded with Harry. Maybe in Fourth Year (by god, the thought of getting that far scares me!) instead of Ron being taken for the Second Task it'll be Blaise. I dunno.
Carey Miles: OH! I LOVE YOU TO NO ENDS! I'd totally forgotten that they had to see Dumbledore! God I'm stupid! YES YES YES YES YES! Of course I want to read it! Snape with a son? WOW! Gimme gimme gimme gimme!
Cho Chang 913: Sorry I separated your name, my computer's stupid. Thanks! I like Harry's drawiness as well! Short? Then write longer! I love listening to weird reviewers going on and on and on and on!
Sk8reagle: Yesssssssss . . .
Rachel: . . . oh yeah! Hehe! Happy Birthday! Good! Something more to torture your parents with! ::grins::
Katy999: Oh oh oh oh! You save my life! Perfect idea! Hugs and kisses! I love you! Thank you!
Sushinase: Lovely name. My computer thought it was supposed to be 'slushiness'. Well, you see stories all the time where Sev has a thing for Lily, and I love the Severitus Challenge. I rather like it. My description of Lily was quite odd, now that I think of it, but yeah. Harry's wand is the same as it was in the original series. Yes, I'll read your story now, K? Expect a review if you haven't already gotten one!
Tati: Yeah, everybody likes Harry with a snake, don't they? Heh. You like my stories? ::blushes:: No, no Voldie in first year (except in the whole Quirrell idea and stuff) but that's not what I meant by five years. Harry has to do something in five years (which you'll learn what it is in either the next chapter or the one after) or he'll die. Voldie will come back like in the series in the fourth book. Yes, Harry has good morals. Hehe! Morals. Well, Harry still has to learn that Snape's his daddy and Snape still has to make sure that Harry is really his son, but after that I'm afraid only Harry's close friends will know until either Voldie dies or Harry does (you never know where JK Rowling is going with these books - she hints that she's going to kill Harry off but then doesn't seem like she will, ya know?)
"What?" She whispered.
"Show me the other ones."
"You mean . . . like me?" Blaise asked softly. Harry nodded. "Okay . . . there." She pointed subtlely and quickly returned to her toast. Harry glanced casually at where she'd pointed. A girl with long, dark golden hair and a very pretty face was smiling rather nastily to the Hufflepuffs. She seemed tall, and very slim, with a dark tan that brought out her bright blue eyes.
"Avery?" he asked, turning back to Blaise.
"The one and only," Her lip was curled as she inspected the jam.
"Where are the other two?" he queried, drawing her attention away from the jam. Blaise scanned the table before nodding. Harry looked to where she'd nodded. A boy with reddish-gold hair that reached the bottom of his ears was watching his empty plate intently with golden-brown eyes. As Harry looked at him he raised his eyes and gazed straight at Harry.
"That's Cepheus Major," Blaise informed him. "Me and him used to be friends because we were the only kids at my mother's parties, but after we got the Mark . . ."
"He and I." Harry corrected her grammar absently as Major looked back down at his plate.
"Yeah, whatever. Look, there's Caelum Nott." Harry tore his eyes away from Cepheus Major to see another boy seated at the opposite end of the Slytherin table. This boy was eating ravenously, talking animatedly to a group of Slytherin girls who were watching him adoringly. And Harry knew the reason for their star-struck gazes: the boy was a blonde with blue eyes. Even Slytherin girls considered this to qualify as good-looking.
"And then there's you." He muttered, looking back at Blaise.
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry, I've ruined your life and - "
"Shut up, Blaise." He ordered, and his tone left no room for argument. Blaise closed her mouth and met his searching green eyes.
Before either could say more, several people from the table and the other tables around them rose to leave. /Must be almost time for class/, Harry thought. Blaise's solemn face broke into a grin.
"First flying lesson!" She explained as she hurriedly stuffed her books into her bag.
"Flying?" Harry asked. Blaise's eyes went wide as they rose.
"I didn't tell you about Quidditch?"
"What-itch?"
"I'll explain as we go. Onto the grounds, you know. Well, come on! Follow me!"
* * *
As Harry stood by the broomstick, holding his hand over it, about to order it up under the watchful yellow eyes of Madam Hooch, all he knew about Quidditch was that you flew around on a broomstick and tried to score using the Sniffle, or something like that, and that it was /the/ Wizard's game. And, of course, that they were about to learn how to fly.
"Up!" He ordered, like everyone else, both Gryffindor and Slytherin, but unlike everyone else, his broom jumped into his hand. He glanced at Blaise to see her face contorted in concentration and her broom half- hovering a foot above the ground. He looked around at the other Slytherins. Malfoy's broom struggled into his hand on his third 'up'. Then to the Gryffindors to see Hermione's merely roll over.
Though some people had to pick theirs up, eventually everyone got their brooms in their hands. They were instructed on how to mount and hold their brooms, and Harry was surprised to find that he'd done everything right the first time without being told. He and Blaise were particularly pleased to hear Hooch tell Malfoy he'd been holding his broom wrong for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Hooch, up at the front to the two parallel rows of Gryffindor and Slytherin students. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"
A pudgy, round-faced boy from the Gryffindor side pushed off hard before the whistle even made contact with Hooch's mouth.
"Come back, boy!" she cried in a strikingly hawk-like voice, but the Gryffindor was rising straight up into the sky - twelve feet - twenty feet. Harry caught of glimpse of a scared white face looking down at the ground that was so rapidly leaving him behind, saw a gasp, saw the boy slip sideways off the broom and -
WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and the Gryffindor lay facedown on the grass in a crumpled heap. Harry watched his broomstick for a moment as it rose higher and higher toward the Forbidden Forest and out of sight. Then he looked back to the boy.
Hooch was bending over him, her face whiter than his was. Harry heard an indistinct mutter - the boy had fallen off at the Gryffindor end and they were too far away for him to hear. Hooch helped him up and turned to face the class, the boy held close to her side.
"None of you are 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."
The boy, his paled face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist (Harry suspected that it was broken or badly sprained), hobbled off with Madam Hooch.
No sooner were they out of view than Malfoy burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins, save Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus Major (who merely kicked at the grass, clutching his broom protectively) joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy." A Gryffindor snapped.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a pug-faced Slytherin who absolutely adored Malfoy. "Never thought /you'd/ like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
"Look!" exclaimed Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass near where Longbottom had fallen. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
A glass ball the size of a large marble, seemingly full of white smoke, glittered in the sun as he held it up. Harry heard Blaise gasp slightly beside him.
"It's a Remembrall, he's taken a Remembrall! Those things are expensive!" she whispered furiously to him.
Harry saw a red-haired Gryffindor move forward angrily, broom still clutched in his hand, his knuckles turning white.
"Give it here, Malfoy!" he shouted, and everyone stopped talking to listen. Malfoy smiled rather nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - maybe - up a tree?"
"Give it HERE!" the redhead yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He soared up to the topmost branches of an oak and called, "Come get it, Weasley!"
Weasley made to mount his broom, but Harry had already pushed off. He soared right past the Weasley boy and up toward Malfoy. The wind rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him. He grinned fiercely as he realized that this was something that was as natural to him as staying balanced while walking. He didn't need to be shown how to do this; he could just /do/ it. He pulled the handle of his broomstick up to take it even higher and heard a few screams from girls and gasps from guys, mingling with an admiring whoop from Blaise. He was surprised to feel a deep sense of fierce pride invade his mind: it was Blaise's pride. She was proud of him.
He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair, allowing his fierce grin to become maniacal when he caught sight of Malfoy's stunned face.
"What are you doing up here, Potter?" Malfoy finally said. Harry flicked his head a little to get rid of a few stray strands of black hair.
"I couldn't resist a chance to humiliate you, Malfoy. Now, let's see that Remembrall, ay?" Harry grinned wider.
"Wondering if you've forgotten anything, Potter? Like perhaps what House you've been Sorted into?" Malfoy sneered. Harry's grin faded and he set his face angrily.
"No, I think you have, Malfoy. I don't remember Slytherin House's qualities being described as cowardly." He shot back, quite pleased to see Malfoy's pale face turning whiter at the dark anger that was written on Harry's face. "So why don't you give me that Remembrall and I won't have to knock you off that broom, alright?"
"Oh, you're going to knock me off my broom? Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, keeper of Slytherin qualities, is going to knock me off my broom?" Malfoy sneered. Harry smiled, a sticky sweet, fake smile. He could feel Malfoy's unease as the boy's face lost the before-present smugness. Without warning Harry leaned forward so that his chin grazed the broom handle and it shot forward like a slingshot. Malfoy only barely got away, and Harry let out a harsh laugh as he saw the shock and fright in Malfoy's expression. He made a sharp about-face, not listening to the few people that were clapping back down on the ground.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your scrawny neck, Draco!" Harry called, remembering the two enormous Slytherins Malfoy always kept as bodyguards.
The same thought seemed to have just struck Malfoy.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted and threw the glass ball. He really does have a good aim, thought Harry. The ball reached its maximum velocity and streaked back toward the ground.
Compelled by a feeling he'd never experienced before, Harry pointed his broom handle down and flattened himself against it - the next second he was hurtling toward the ground. The wind stung his face and tore at his eyes - he could feel his hair being blown away from his face, and the wind felt strangely soothing on his scar - he could vaguely hear the screams of the Gryffindors and Slytherins as he raced the flying ball - this was great, this was better than great! Harry laughed once, twice, diving toward the ground, and he held out his hand - a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight and land on the ground smoothly, the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. He stepped off of his broom, and took a good look at the Remembrall. The smoke was red.
"MR. POTTER!"
Harry looked up sharply to see Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, striding toward him. He'd landed very near to the group of Gryffindors and Slytherins, and Blaise and Hermione seemed to have been making their way toward him. /Oh yes/, he thought, /I forgot that anyone trying to fly would be expelled/.
"Come with me." Snape said silkily as he drew close enough not to have to yell. Immediately people began talking.
"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"
"Be quiet, Miss Zabini -" he snapped at Blaise.
"Malfoy -"
"That goes for you too, Mr. Major -" Harry shot a look at Cepheus Major, who was almost glaring at Snape. That was odd. Major never spoke. "Potter, come with me."
Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy's smirking face, sending a reassuring thought toward Blaise and a look toward both her and Hermione as he passed them. Then he kept his eyes trained on the back of Snape's billowing robes.
He tried to keep the thought of 'I'm going to be expelled' from running through his head as they strode to the castle, but it appeared anyway.
/No you won't!/
Harry nearly stopped in his tracks. Long distance, he thought with amusement. He wondered how far away he could exchange thoughts with Blaise at.
Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Snape didn't say a word to him. He shoved open the doors and marched along corridors with Harry following him briskly, still holding his broom. Was Snape taking him to Dumbledore? Surely Dumbledore wouldn't send Harry back to the streets? Harry swallowed, the hand holding his broom shaking, knuckles white. Not the Dursleys, not the Dursleys!
Snape stopped outside a classroom. He opened the door and spoke.
"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall. I need to borrow Flint."
Flint? Thought Harry, bewildered. Was Snape going to set him on fire?
But Flint turned out to be a person, a tall sixth year boy who came out of McGonagall's class looking slightly confused, but sneering so that Harry could see every one of his horribly unaligned teeth. Harry fought not to show any sign of his revulsion. Snape may yet decide to set him on fire.
"Follow me." Snape said curtly and they marched on up the corridor, Flint shooting Harry looks. Harry narrowed his eyes in return, using his broom as a sort of walking stick.
"Here." Snape pointed them into an empty classroom. He closed the door behind them and turned to face them, black eyes lingering first on Harry then turning to Flint.
"This is Marcus Flint. Flint, here's your Seeker."
Flint's expression morphed from sneering puzzlement to doubt.
"Him? He's a first year, Professor Snape."
"I'm sure with a little persuasion Dumbledore will let us bend the rules - after all, we're in need of a Seeker."
Flint's doubt still lingered slightly, but he began walking around Harry. Harry stood stock still, eyes trained on the chalkboard at the front of the class, reminded of the muggle military boot camp.
"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty foot dive, Flint," Snape said, gesturing toward the Remembrall, which Harry looked down at. "Was that your first time on a broom, Potter?"
"Yes." Harry replied, fighting not to say 'sir' and salute Snape.
"He's a natural." Snape finished.
"Ever heard of Quidditch Potter?" Flint asked, his tone devoid of the usual sneer. Harry nodded his head.
"Flint's Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team." Snape explained in a clipped tone. Harry looked at him, then back to Flint.
"Good build for a Seeker, light, speedy. Have to have a good broom, preferably a Nimbus 2000." Flint said as he circled Harry like a vulture.
"Of course. I was quite pleased at the look on Professor McGonagall's face when we won last time. With Higgs unable to play, we need a Seeker just as good as him, if not better. Train him hard, Flint. And you, Potter," Snape turned to Harry, who met his black gaze steadily. "you'd better train hard or I might change my mind about punishing you. Back to class, Flint, and you too, Potter." And with that Snape stalked out of the classroom. Flint turned to Harry.
"Next Monday, Potter, five a.m., you'd better be there."
And then Flint was gone too. Harry looked down at the broom. He really didn't feel like returning to the flying lesson, even though it was almost over. Making up his mind, he strode out of the classroom and walked down toward the Slytherin common room, ignoring the stares from inside the open doors of classrooms. He hadn't noticed the open doors, but now the stares made him feel quite self-conscious.
When he finally reached the Slytherin common room he glanced at the wizarding clock that told you what class you were supposed to be in. At the top of the square clock the words 'Harry Potter, First Year' appeared in silver handwriting, and a large green arrow appeared below it, pointing to the space in between 'Flying Lesson with Madam Hooch' and 'Dinner'. Harry set down the broom carefully on the chair by the fire and walked up the stairs to the First Year Boys dorm. He strolled inside, staying as far away as possible from Malfoy's bed. He'd been lucky to get the one farthest from the door, which was where Malfoy slept (near the door). Next to Harry was Cepheus Major, then Caelum Nott, then Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Malfoy's cronies, and, last and definitely least, Malfoy. It was quite a comfortable arrangement, thought Harry as he knelt by his trunk. As long as he didn't have to sleep beside Malfoy, he was okay.
"Sadie." He hissed as he opened his trunk. His little charcoal- colored snake raised her head, looking at Harry blearily.
"'Sssssss morning?" she asked. Harry smiled.
"Yes, it's almost time for dinner."
Sadie shot up, uncoiling rapidly and heading for Harry's outstretched arm.
"Arrrrre you going to feeeed me thissss time?" She asked as she slithered under his robe sleeve. Harry shivered slightly at the sensation.
"Yes, I suppose I can sneak you something. But it might look a little weird for me to just go putting food up my sleeve."
"Why doooooon't you let me outtttt? I'll sssstay low, I prrrrromisssse."
Harry pondered this for a moment,
"Sure. Just don't go wandering off. Stay close."
"Yessss ssssir." Sadie curled up around his biceps. Harry flexed his fingers once before shutting his trunk and rising, heading out of the dormitory and back to the common room.
"Nice nap?" he asked his arm.
"Yessss. Verrrry nissssse (A/N: you know, nice?)."
"Good." Harry replied as he grabbed the broom and exited the room.
* * *
"You're joking."
It was dinnertime. Sadie was roaming their area of the table, sneaking some food every now and then. Harry had just told Blaise and Hermione (who'd come over demanding he tell her what on earth he was thinking) about his new Quidditch position.
"That's a very big accomplishment, Harry. The last First year to be on their House team was a century ago. I read it in Hogwarts, A History (A/N: Couldn't resist)."
"Wow! That's cool! I'll have to explain Quidditch to you, Harry! Wanna go flying after dinner? You come too, Mione, we'll have a roaring good time!" Blaise exclaimed, looking very excited. Harry smiled; it sounded good to him. But Hermione had a regretful look on her face.
"I really need to get to work on that Transfiguration essay . . ." she trailed off, looking at the pudding. Blaise made a face.
"That one about beetles and buttons?"
"Yes, I'm only half done -"
"Look, Mione, we'll fly for a bit then we'll all go down to the Slytherin common room and do the essay together." Blaise wheedled, but Hermione looked up quickly.
"Oh, no! If we're going to work on the essay, we're going to Gryffindor! I'm not going to be in the /common room/ of the Slytherins! No offense to you, Harry and Blaise, but I'd prefer to be surrounded by people who don't despise me and by the red and gold of Gryffindor." Hermione insisted.
"Touching, Mione, touching. We'll go to Gryffindor if you'll come flying." Harry compromised. Hermione considered this offer for a moment before nodding.
"Deal."
Harry smiled.
Blaise grinned.
Sadie choked on a mouthful of chocolate pudding.
A/N: Hiya! Sorry I was late last time. But here I am! Did you like this chapter? Gotta be one of the longest ones I've written - seven pages of pure Harry and Blaise-ness! Well, there's also Flint and Malfoy and Snape and Cepheus Major (my creation, by the way ::blushes::) and all these other dudes! So it isn't pure! And I'm just a raving lunatic! Don't mind me! Next chapter: Out flying! Then studying! And other stuff! Like maybe if I have enough room talking to Dumbledore!
Reviews:
Rayvern: Uh huh. Yup yup. That's partially the point. I had considered having Blaise get the diary in Year Two (if I got that far) but then I thought no! That's defeating the purpose! So Ginny's still gonna get it. But I dunno, some events are gonna get switched around because Blaise's all bonded with Harry. Maybe in Fourth Year (by god, the thought of getting that far scares me!) instead of Ron being taken for the Second Task it'll be Blaise. I dunno.
Carey Miles: OH! I LOVE YOU TO NO ENDS! I'd totally forgotten that they had to see Dumbledore! God I'm stupid! YES YES YES YES YES! Of course I want to read it! Snape with a son? WOW! Gimme gimme gimme gimme!
Cho Chang 913: Sorry I separated your name, my computer's stupid. Thanks! I like Harry's drawiness as well! Short? Then write longer! I love listening to weird reviewers going on and on and on and on!
Sk8reagle: Yesssssssss . . .
Rachel: . . . oh yeah! Hehe! Happy Birthday! Good! Something more to torture your parents with! ::grins::
Katy999: Oh oh oh oh! You save my life! Perfect idea! Hugs and kisses! I love you! Thank you!
Sushinase: Lovely name. My computer thought it was supposed to be 'slushiness'. Well, you see stories all the time where Sev has a thing for Lily, and I love the Severitus Challenge. I rather like it. My description of Lily was quite odd, now that I think of it, but yeah. Harry's wand is the same as it was in the original series. Yes, I'll read your story now, K? Expect a review if you haven't already gotten one!
Tati: Yeah, everybody likes Harry with a snake, don't they? Heh. You like my stories? ::blushes:: No, no Voldie in first year (except in the whole Quirrell idea and stuff) but that's not what I meant by five years. Harry has to do something in five years (which you'll learn what it is in either the next chapter or the one after) or he'll die. Voldie will come back like in the series in the fourth book. Yes, Harry has good morals. Hehe! Morals. Well, Harry still has to learn that Snape's his daddy and Snape still has to make sure that Harry is really his son, but after that I'm afraid only Harry's close friends will know until either Voldie dies or Harry does (you never know where JK Rowling is going with these books - she hints that she's going to kill Harry off but then doesn't seem like she will, ya know?)