God...first my laptop crashed and I lost EVERYTHING...then I was kicked offline all summer...if this chapter seems particularly uninspired, don't be surprised.

The Next Generation: Marauders^3

Chapter 5: Not Just Pranks Anymore

(Cause it's not...Flying lessons! yay!)

Richard and Eddie joined the rest of the Gryffindor first years on the Quidditch pitch a few days later. (Yes, the Quidditch pitch.) Madam Hooch was waiting to instruct the Gryffindors and Slytherins in their first flying lesson. Richard noticed Draco and Draca standing there already with the rest of the Slytherins. It seemed that every so often, their hands would drift ever so slightly, just to make sure everything was still where it should be. He pointed it out to Eddie, and they laughed.

Madam Hooch's whistle blew. "Hello first years, my name is Madam Hooch, and I will be teaching you how to properly fly on a broomstick. First lesson!" She snapped. She'd been rather nervous and short-tempered since the war. Leading a squadron of wizards on broomsticks and dragon riders to provide air support in key battles will do that to a person.

"Step up to the left side of your broomstick" the students did. "Hold your right hand...that's RIGHT! Hand out over the broomstick" The students did, albeit a little apprehensively.

"And now" Hooch continued, "we find out whether or not flying ability really is hereditary!" She punctuated that with a smile at Richard and Eddie, whose chests puffed out slightly. They were allowed of course, being the sons of Harry "Hawkeye" Potter and Ron "Stonewall" Weasley.

(It was at this point that the author (that's me) decided to branch off slightly, and explain where the nicknames came from. I'm sure most of you can guess where this will be going.)

Harry had felt like a fool after the war. What was an Auror (or Dark wizard catcher) supposed to do after he'd vanquished the darkest wizard ever? The answer came to him easily enough, while he was flying his Firebolt and trying to think. He looked down at the broom; able to see his reflection in it thanks to the high gloss he'd put on it. His reflection seemed to be looking at him and saying, "Duh...remember the imposter Moody? "Play to your strengths" ." "Play" he thought to himself...

Two months later, both Harry and Ron were members of the Chudley Cannons. Ron had improved steadily since fifth year, and had in fact been one of Madam Hooch's most trusted broom riders during the war. He replaced the Cannons' aging Keeper, and Harry of course became Seeker. Over the next ten years, Harry and Ron became almost superhuman on the Quidditch pitch. Harry never missed the Snitch (at least with the Cannons), and Ron let the Quaffle by him exactly once, when he had the misfortune of sneezing just before he stretched his arms out to catch it. The performance of the newly crowned "Hawkeye" and "Stonewall" enabled the Cannons to win the Quidditch Cup eight times. Not only that, they were perennial starters for the English national team, leading England to the finals six times and winning five of them (Harry made one small mistake one year and caught a Bludger full in the face from the Russian Beater, Sergei Lexanov).

(Okay, back to the story. These kids have to learn to fly sometime.)

Draco and Draca, unsurprisingly, glared at the two, almost as if it was their fault that Draco Sr. wasn't playing professional Quidditch. (He'd paid the Falmouth Falcons well to get on the team, but they dropped him when they saw how awful he was.) Richard and Eddie simply glared back. Madam Hooch didn't notice it at all.

"Now, all together, say "Up!"

"UP!" Five brooms jumped up immediately, into the hands of Richard, Eddie, Draco, Draca, and surprisingly, Henry Longbottom. He seemed as surprised as the rest of them. While the rest of the students worked harder to get their brooms in the air (John Fortis' broom rose into his hand on the third try), Draco, unsurprisingly, gloated.

"Well now" he drawled, sounding exactly like his father, even if no one else knew it, "I knew that'd be easy. It'd have to be if even the sons of Potty and the Weasel could do it on the first try!" He and Draca started laughing.

Richard was seething, but he knew he couldn't do anything in front of a teacher. He was about to start planning retaliation when Eddie put a hand on his arm.

"What is it"?

Eddie didn't respond. He just pointed at Henry, who was looking at the laughing Malfoy twins with an odd expression on his face. Then, ever so slightly, he raised his left hand.

The twins' laughter was cut short. Everyone looked at them, and saw their broomsticks hanging in the air in front of them. Moving entirely on their own, the broomsticks rotated until the bristles were pointing into the air: then, as though responding to a silent command, they started beating themselves against the Malfoys.

The twins were, of course, not laughing anymore. Almost everyone else was, though. Draco and Draca ran back to the castle, the school's broomsticks following and hitting them the whole way. Richard chanced a look at Henry, who was simply watching the twins run, and...muttering under his breath?

At lunch, Richard and Eddie sat on either side of Henry. The Great Hall was abuzz with whispers. The story of the Malfoys and their broom problems had spread fast.

Richard leaned over slightly. "So, Henry, how's...everything?" Eddie rolled his eyes, looking more like his mother than he cared to.

"Honestly, Richie...Henry, you're a Gesturiat, aren't you?" Henry stiffened slightly in his seat. Richard simply looked blankly at both of them.

"A what?"

"A Gesturiat, Richie, is a master of wandless magic. Most wizards can snap their fingers to start a fire, or point at a door to close it, but Gesturiats work on a much more powerful level. You saw Henry earlier...the slightest gesture, and he was controlling two broomsticks!" Henry went a deep red, but didn't say anything.

"How long have you known, Henry?" Eddie asked. Henry took a deep breath.

"I was seven years old, just walking home from a shop with my dad. We passed a Muggle house with a big barking dog in the yard, and my dad remarked that he'd be able to sleep better at night if that dog could shut up for a few seconds. Well, I wasn't even thinking about it at the time...I just waved my hand. Sort of like I was brushing a fly away from my head...that dog hasn't barked since." Richard and Eddie were shocked.

"One little gesture, and the dog hasn't barked for four years?"

"Nope. My dad saw it happen, and he was overjoyed. It was the first magic I'd ever performed. He went back later and tried to fix what I'd done, but he couldn't...I daresay he only told me that part anyway, and he's just glad that he can sleep again at night." The boys all grinned at that. Henry's grin slipped slightly as he remembered something.

"You're not going to tell on me, are you?"

"Of course not!" Richard piped up. "It's always good to have people with special talents around. Even better if they're kept secret. My dad's a Parselmouth, you know." Eddie's eyes widened, and he suddenly looked like his birthday had come early.

"Richie! Idea! Pardon me, Henry." Eddie leaned over and whispered something in Richard's ear. Richard smiled widely.

"It's perfect...Henry, I daresay you've never heard of the Marauders!" Henry frowned.

"The who?"

(And this is where I leave it for now. I haven't decided what the next prank will be yet. And since my computer crashed, I have to check with the stories I already posted so I don't start creating plot holes. Read and review!)