She woke up with the commotion of the age-mates dressing and getting presentable. Not one for cosmetics or any of that rubbish, she was content to pull on some fresh clothes and untangle her hair before heading downstairs for a bit of brekky, as Ringo put it in Yellow Submarine… she giggled.
She had to force down her breakfast, she was so excited. Flying first period! She could barely believe her luck! Still in a daze when her friends left, she carried her broom out onto the field. She looked around; her class was all first-years and herself. She tried not to be embarrassed by this; after all, it wasn't like she'd been held back or anything. She heard a distant tap on glass, and turned. Ginny was in a window, giving her an exaggerated wave, and the thumbs-up sign. Erin waved back, comforted.
A woman introducing herself as Madame Hooch instructed them to lay their brooms on the ground, and recite "accio broomstick!" until it flew into their hands. Not sure if this applied to her, she looked pleadingly at Madame Hooch. "What is… oh, the um… yes. Well, I don't imagine you should bother with this part; the spell really depends more on the magic in the rider than the magic in the broom." Erin bowed her head and nodded, trying to hide disappointment. "Hey," Madame Hooch gentled her tone, "Don't worry. This isn't the important part anyway." Erin smiled at the woman's friendliness, and nodded, feeling better.
"We're going to attempt to mount the brooms now; careful, everyone, you must be centered before putting your weight on the broom, or else-" but she didn't have to finish, as one of her pupils demonstrated for her, landing with a thump on the wet grass. Madame Hooch shook her head in disapproval. "Five points from Hufflepuff; you don't do it till I blow my whistle, Colville!" The students smiled nervously at each other. Hooch's whistle echoed shrilly, and several things happened.
Someone called "Madame Hooch! It's urgent!" from a window, and Hooch took off with a warning. After this, several students attempted to mount their broomsticks without success, the worst case being Erin herself, who failed so spectacularly that she ended up drenched in dew and stained with mud. With Hooch having flown into that far-off classroom to investigate something or other (and, presumably, dismounted), one of the first-year Slytherins called out, "You're clumsy even for a muggle! How long did it take you to learn to walk; six years?"
"I must say," she smiled, "It's such a complex process, I don't know if I'll ever quite get it! Good thing I shan't need to when I learn to fly!" With this, she astonished herself by not only mounting her broom without incident, but taking off!
It was amazing! It was the most thrilling sensations she'd ever felt in her life; better even than a roller-coaster! She whooped, then did whatever she could think of; she went sideways, and even upside-down, flew complete circles, plunged almost to the ground, then turned up sharply, narrowly escaping being splattered, laughing with glee. She was euphoric! She was in heaven! She… heard a whistle.
Regaining her senses, she gasped! Madame Hooch had obviously finished with whatever she had to take care of, and was glaring at her from the ground. The other students stared up at her, in shock. She gulped, and descended. She dismounted in front of Madame Hooch, mortified, and awaited her punishment.
"Well, Miss Hightower, that was certainly an unnecessary display." She spoke, bitingly. Erin swallowed. "I think fifteen points from Gryffindor for that unwarranted outburst. However," she looked up, confused, "I can see that it would be a waste of your time to make you complete this course. Take this," she produced a quill and bit of parchment from her robes and hastily scribbled down a note, "to Dumbledore. He'll adjust your schedule accordingly. Scoot!" she commanded when Erin didn't move.
Erin entered the building and headed for the common room, unsure of herself. Once there, she asked for assistance from those gathered. Ron had a free period, and so was there when she arrived. Since he was the only one she knew there, Erin was relieved when Ron volunteered.
"After all," he told her, "I've been there plenty of times. Me and Harry, and Hermione are always getting sent there for doing things we aren't allowed." Far from being depressed by this, he seemed rather proud of the fact. Erin hid a smile.
"Like what?" was all she had to say to keep the conversation up until they got to Dumbledore's office. She reflected how passionate Ron was about the things he loved until what he said caught her attention – after that, she could only listen to his tales of adventure, exaggerated though she may have suspected some of them were, until they arrived. She smiled, then opened the—the—the door wouldn't budge! She glanced helplessly at Ron. He spoke the mysterious words "jumping jellies!" and the door opened. She entered, the tiniest bit nervous (as she had been almost constantly for the past twenty-four hours). Dumbledore, behind his desk, smiled in welcome.