Chapter 7 – Punching and Flying

Harry's second week at Hogwarts passed by with rather little fanfare, with the notable exception of his first flying lesson on the Tuesday. The wizard-raised Slytherin first years – which appeared to be every single one of them – assured Harry he would have nothing to worry about, and that learning to ride a broom was a simple task that even Gryffindors could manage.

It was apparently so simple, in fact, that most of them had done it when they were much younger children—barely past being toddlers, to hear them tell it. It didn't help that almost all of the boys in both groups had increasingly outrageous stories of near-misses with Muggle helicopters and aeroplanes and Quidditch games lasting for days on end. Draco apparently even had a full-sized Quidditch pitch and professional quality balls which he practised with daily, although Harry had it on good authority from Theodore that he rarely actually used the pitch and instead just liked to talk about it a lot.

It was all Madame Helix could do to stop the Slytherin first years from completely ignoring her lesson in favour of talking—and worrying—about the upcoming flying lesson. In the end, she succeeded, but Harry thought that was probably only because she'd split the class up into four separate groups and given each of them a different kind of work to do. Harry found that his Muggle schooling had meant he wouldn't have to do any maths, since he'd done especially well in that section of the test, but he did have to work on Latin—along with Tracey, Vince, Greg, and several other students from Adder group.

"We don't need fluency, my dears!" Madame Helix reminded the Latin group as she did her pass through the classroom. "Oh, no, Harry my darling; declension not distention!"

Harry reddened and crossed out his mistake.

Madame Helix flitted about the room, correcting mistakes and giving explanations to a cohort of students who would really rather talk about flying, while Harry attempted to learn the basics of Latin.

"I don't like Latin," Tracey said with a big frown. "There's just so many... ugh, everything! Why can't it be nice and easy like Welsh?"

"Me either," commiserated Ranvir Singh from Adder group. "I already speak four languages; why do I need to know bloody Latin on top?"

Harry, who only spoke a single language and still didn't feel much like learning Latin, stayed quiet.

"We'll all get there, my little darlings!" declared Madame Helix from across the room. "Don't you worry about that!"

By the end of the double session for Foundational Skills, Harry had attempted to cram so much Latin into his head he felt like it would explode. And, to add insult to injury, as soon as the Slytherin first years left the Foundational Skills classroom, his anxiety over flying came rushing back—and the Latin rushing out.

"Cheer up," said Tracey. "It's really not that bad. I've only been on a broom a couple times, and none of the muggleborns in Gryffindor will have ever been on one. And," she said, "do you really think Longbottom has much practise with it? Come on!"

What Tracey said did make sense. Although brooms did seem popular, it was at least comforting to think that everyone required more or less the same level of instruction in how to fly them. And surely someone like Longbottom would be at least as inexperienced as Harry, his wizarding upbringing notwithstanding.

Some of his new friends had been helpful, anyway. Or at least they'd tried to be helpful. Tracey was full of little tips and kind words. Theodore had shown him a book on flying, although the book itself had said it was impossible to learn to fly from a book, so he didn't quite see what the point was. It had given him some tips on how to hold the broom, Harry supposed, but he'd thought that was what Madam Hooch would be doing.

He would have felt better if at least one of the other Slytherins had confessed to never having ridden a broom, but nobody had, although Goyle was meant to be so awful at it his father had forbidden him from doing it again until he got to school. The closest anyone had come to never having flown was Ranvir Singh from Adder group, whose dad 'didn't believe in brooms' and instead used a flying carpet, and even he had ridden a broom before. Only once, but that was one more time than Harry.

"I suppose so," Harry said eventually. It all came down to having grown up with Muggles. He didn't blame the Dursleys, since it wasn't their fault a Dark wizard had killed his parents even if they had known Harry was a wizard and had never told him, but if Harry had grown up where he was supposed to…

Well, thinking about it now wasn't going to help him fly well at all and may even make him worse at it, so Harry tried to push it out of his mind. The Slytherin first years were literally on their way to the grounds; the time for worrying had already come and gone.

"You're probably right about Longbottom though. And I did hear that—" Harry paused to check whether he was listening, then continued at a much lower volume, "Theodore isn't very good at flying. Of course, I did hear it from Draco…"

Tracey leaned in conspiratorially.

"I think Theodore is really nervous about it, so you might be right. He's checked out four books from the library, and not just to give to you," she said.

"I hope we get to do some real flying, you know," Draco said loudly from just a bit ahead of Harry. "It would be such a shame if she kept us grounded. Well, those of us who can fly."

"It's just not fair that first years can't play Quidditch, Draco," said Pansy. "You'd be excellent on the House team. Can't your father do anything about it? You've been flying for years!" she whined. Next to her, Victoria Runcorn nodded along.

Draco was practically strutting about, preening at the attention he was receiving from Pansy and Victoria.

"I'm going to try out next year, of course," Draco continued. "Not that it's any real contest of course. I'm sure that once I got on a broom, Snape will—"

"I like Quidditch—watching it, I mean—but I'm not the biggest fan of brooms," said Blaise, interrupting Draco. "I like flying, but it really is better from the back of an Aethonan, isn't it? If only Hogwarts had an aerial polo league we could get really stuck in, couldn't we?" He paused and glanced over at Draco, an expression of exaggerated horror across his face. "I've really put my foot in it, haven't I? I forgot your grandfather had to sell his herd. Well, brooms are exciting enough, I suppose," said Blaise, although his tone suggested to Harry he thought otherwise.

Harry didn't think Blaise was serious. In conversations with Harry, Blaise had seemed reasonably excited about the prospect of flying lessons, so Harry assumed he'd just wanted to chip away at Draco's general sense of superiority—which was a goal Harry could get behind, certainly at those times when Draco was being particularly annoying with it.

Blaise's words seemed to shut Draco up, at least for a little while, and soon enough they had left the castle. Harry almost didn't want to go, but the prospect of actually flying ended up being more powerful than his desire not to make a fool of himself while doing it. Harry followed the rest of the Slytherin first years out into the grounds in reasonably good spirits.

The Gryffindors joined the Slytherins not long after they exited the castle onto the grounds, but each House went its separate way when they reached the changing rooms that were usually used for Quidditch. Thankfully, as Harry wasn't quite ready to get changed in front of all the Slytherin girls, flying lessons only required them to remove their outer robes and instead wear padded flying robes over their school uniform provided specifically for the lesson, which Harry thought was a much more reasonable situation.

Instead of trudging out towards the Quidditch pitch, Madam Hooch had instructed all of the first years to follow her to one of the lawns next to the castle.

"Miss?" asked one of the Gryffindors on the way to the lawns. "Why aren't we using the Pitch?"

"I've not been Miss in rather a long time, Finnegan, and I don't much fancy going back to it!" said Hooch. "It's Madam."

"Er, alright then," said Finnegan. "Madam. Why aren't we using the Pitch?"

"Students get carried away on the Pitch, in my experience," said Hooch.

If the stories the other boys had been telling all week were any indication, Harry thought she was probably right. Still, it would mean that any students having lessons overlooking the lake would be able to see the first years attempting to fly—or failing in their attempts to fly, as Harry worried might be the case for him.

A lonely, rickety shed stood nearby with a few dozen shabby-looking brooms leaning against it.

"Each of you select a broom and form up into a single line here, and place the broom on the ground next to you. Do not, I repeat, do not under any circumstances attempt to mount the broom or make it fly," shouted Madam Hooch.

"Come on," said Blaise, tugging at Harry's arm. "I'll help you choose a good one. Some of those brooms look right knackered!"

Harry mumbled a thanks as he followed Blaise—at pace—towards the shed. Although Harry didn't know exactly what was wrong with them, he agreed with Blaise's assessment—some of the brooms were almost completely bald of twigs, and others looked like they had been made several hundred years ago. Harry supposed they probably had been.

He accepted the broom Blaise had chosen for him without complaint, and looked it over. It had a few missing twigs and a rough handle but seemed to be quite far from the worst broom of the lot. Unlike several of the other offerings, both of Harry's leg supports seemed solid and well-attached.

"The one I chose for myself is better, but this is probably the second best broom of the bunch," said Blaise when they had formed up with the other Slytherins who had already chosen a broom. Harry settled in next to Tracey, who stood with Daphne. They were comparing their brooms.

"I know the EasyRider is for old people," said Tracey, "but it's the newest model I could find so I know the charms will still be good on it. Oh, but yours is really shiny and sleek!"

"The Comet 15 is meant to better for stability so I had to choose it," said Daphne, "even if the EasyRider looks quite comfy… Mine does look sleek though, doesn't it?" She seemed pleased.

"Girls," said Blaise derisively.

"All right, settle down now, class," called out Madam Hooch. "Now, before we start I need you all to understand that you are in charge of the broom! Do not be afraid of the broom because it will sense your fear, they're like good horses or dogs in that way. You are witches and wizards! You'll come to learn this in time I expect, but one of the key components to successful magic is self-confidence."

Harry looked down at his broom sceptically. It just looked like a – relatively – ordinary broom even if it did have leg supports. Surely it couldn't sense his feelings even if it was enchanted to fly? It didn't have a brain. But all along the line of first years Harry could spot students nodding along in agreement.

"Well then, first of all I'd like you to reach out to put your wand arm directly over your broom. Then, in a firm and clear voice, command the broom 'Up!' and into your hands," continued Hooch.

Harry stretched out his arm and gave his broom the command. To his surprise the broom jumped up into his waiting hand almost as soon as he'd opened his mouth—something that only a third of the other students had managed to do, and some only after more than one try. Most of the other students managed only a half-hearted wobble, and from the looks on their faces and empty hands Harry could tell that some unlucky students hadn't managed even that.

"See? You're a natural!" said Tracey quietly to Harry. "Nothing to worry about! I had to ask mine twice." She blushed.

"Well, that's quite all right if you didn't manage to get it into your hand this time," said Hooch. "Try it again and if it doesn't work, pick it up for now while we cover the proper way to mount your broom. Quickly now, we haven't got all afternoon!"

The remaining students attempted once more to get their brooms into their hands. Quite a few of the others managed it, but by the end a handful of unlucky students had to bend over and pick up their brooms by hand.

"You hold the broom like this," said Hooch, demonstrating, "and mount the broom like so, being careful to keep a firm grip along the handle shaft in precisely this manner. Watch me, Mr Finnegan, I don't see what business you have looking at Weasley and Thomas." The witch shook her head. "We are not going to attempt flying just yet, so you are absolutely not to give the broom any commands to go. Do not think it, do not say it, do not even pretend. If anyone so much as gets an inch off the ground it'll be a suspension at the very least! Do I make myself clear?"

Harry followed along as best he could, checking to see what Tracey and Blaise were doing and adjusting his hands based on that. Hooch then went along the line correcting students' grips and general broom handling technique, with a comment or two depending on how well (or poorly) each student had done. When she got to Draco and told him he was doing it wrong, the haughty boy protested.

"I've been doing it like this for years just fine," Draco said stubbornly.

"Well then you've been doing it wrong for years, Mr Malfoy," said Hooch. "Do it like this or risk a sprain over long journeys." She corrected his positioning and moved on down the line.

When Hooch got to Harry, she complimented him on his form. As she grew closer to the Gryffindor end of the long line of first years, Neville Longbottom rose up suddenly into the air accompanied by gasps—and some laughter—from the students still on the ground.

"Don't panic, boy!" shouted Hooch. "We'll have you down in a jiffy if you keep calm. Gently point the nose of your broom downwards and you should start to descend smoothly." The instructor seemed exasperated more than angry, so Harry assumed she realised that Longbottom probably hadn't meant for this to happen – it was clear from deathly pale look and terrified grimace sat on his face, and his generally accident prone manner that the last place he would want to be was up in the air on a broom.

Unfortunately the instructor's words of advice appeared to go unnoticed by the boy, as his broom continued to climb higher into the sky. Longbottom had even started to cry.

"Point the broom down, lad," said Hooch again. "You're the wizard here, you are in control!"

Longbottom did just that, but instead of the broom moving downwards, the hapless boy fell clear off the broom and onto the ground with an audible and sickening crack, followed by silence and then a loud wail. The broom drifted off, forgotten.

Madam Hooch sighed and moved to pick Longbottom up off the ground.

"A broken wrist, no doubt," she said. She turned to address the class. "Not a single one of you is to so much as think about touching a broom until I come back from the Hospital Wing with Mr Longbottom here. Brooms on the ground and keep them that way! You come along with me, lad," she said, much more gently, to Longbottom as she led him back to the school.

As soon as Madam Hooch had left the line of students dispersed into smaller clusters of students sat and stood spread out across the lawn. Harry stood talking with Tracey, Blaise, and Daphne while they all watched Millicent try to balance her broom on the palm of her hand. She kept dropping it, and Harry suspected it was because the handle had two knobbly bits at the end, but Millicent didn't appear to have worked that out yet.

"What's this, then?" called out Draco, too loudly to have been talking to himself. He had walked over to where Longbottom had fallen and bent to pick something up from the ground.

"A Remembrall? What is he, an old woman?" Draco threw the small object up into the air and caught it. "I should put it somewhere Longbottom will be able to find it, like, say, up a tree." This elicited an unsure laugh from Vince and Greg, who stood near him.

"Oh, don't you dare, Malfoy!" shouted the pretty Indian girl who had sat next to Daphne in Potions.

"I didn't think you'd have a thing for fat little cry-babies, Parvati!" said Pansy, pointing.

Daphne glowered at Pansy, who looked away from her almost immediately.

"Just wait until we get back to the Common Room," hissed Daphne, although Pansy was too far away to hear her.

"Hmm, well, maybe up a tree is a bit too much for the poor thing to manage," continued Draco. "Maybe in the lake? He can swim, can't he?"

Harry frowned and stepped forward to intervene. There was no need to steal Longbottom's things, after all, and it seemed likely to spark a much bigger argument. He stopped, confused, when Blaise put his arm out to stop him.

"He shouldn't throw the ball away, it's not fair," Harry started to say.

"Not in front of everyone," Blaise whispered. "If we ignore him, he'll put the thing in his pocket and take it back to the dorms after he gets bored. But if you try and make him give it back he'll do something silly and you'll both get in trouble. Him less trouble than you, probably, since his father is a governor."

"But it's not right," said Harry. "He should just—just stop acting like a berk. It's not hard. Everyone else manages it all the time."

Blaise looked back at Harry as if he'd grown another head. "I don't see what that has to do with anything. Draco thinks he's being funny, but if you have a go at him now, he'll dig in. You want Longbottom to get his ball back? I can't figure out why it matters to you, but if that's that what you want, you should let Draco have his fun and make him give it back to you in private later. If you have a go at him now, he really will throw the ball in the lake, or up a tree, or whatever."

Blaise paused.

"Trust me."

"How do you know he won't just chuck it anyway?" asked Harry, watching Draco loudly consider his options.

Blaise shrugged.

"Because if I wanted to bully Longbottom about it, I'd keep it to tease him with later."

Harry considered it, and decided that Blaise was probably right. Draco would want to show Longbottom the Remembrall later on, while he could actually watch the poor boy's reaction. The idea of letting the whole farce go on was unappealing, but Blaise sounded like he knew what he was on about...

"What's Neville ever done to you anyway, Malfoy?" shouted one of the Gryffindor boys.

"It's not so much what he's done, but what he is," said Draco. "Namely, a disgrace to wizards everywhere."

"Why does Draco hate Longbottom so much?" asked Harry quietly while Draco paraded about listing all of Longbottom's sins. He still wanted to intervene, but he kept Blaise's words in mind and hoped the other boy's strategy worked. "He keeps on and on about him, but I can't figure out why. Do you lot know?"

Daphne and Blaise both looked away, while Tracey shook her head and shrugged. Millicent pretended to examine her broom for bent and broken twigs.

"It's complicated," said Blaise eventually, and only after Daphne nudged him with her foot, "and not our place to say. There are rumours, though. Family stuff. You know."

Harry nodded slowly. He could understand a family feud of some sort, he supposed, although none of that gave Draco any right to go about bullying the poor boy—especially when Longbottom wasn't even there to defend himself. Not that him being there would have made much difference, since as far as Harry could tell Longbottom preferred to pretend he didn't exist, but it was the principle of the thing.

Draco, Vince, and Greg had started tossing the Remembrall to each other, and Draco was loudly considering whether or not to throw the ball as far into the lake as he possibly could. At this point three of the Gryffindor boys – Harry recognised them as Weasley, Finnegan, and Thomas – strode over the group of Slytherins, robe sleeves rolled up and faces full of frowns.

"Give us back the Remembrall, Malfoy," said Finnegan.

"I don't see why I should, especially not to a Weasley and … whatever the two of you are."

Draco gave the two other boys an exaggerated look over, then sniffed.

"Stuff it, Malfoy!" shouted Weasley. "Just give it back."

"Hoping Longbottom gives you a reward, are you Weasley?" Draco tossed the Remembrall into the distance with a smirk, although Harry thought he actually saw Draco slip it into his pocket instead. Weasley however didn't notice that and lunged forward and punched Draco right on the nose. This victory was short-lived as Vince immediately head-butted Weasley, and Greg kicked Finnegan in the shin. Soon enough the six boys were rolling around on the floor fighting like Muggle children, many of the other first years clustered around them yelling encouragements and insults.

Harry and most of the others in Viper group stood away from the spectacle, mirrored by a slightly smaller cohort of Gryffindors who also hadn't joined in the chaos.

"That's one way to go about it," muttered Blaise. He sighed. "At least when they get caught, Hooch will have to take points off them all equally."

"When?" asked Harry. "She might not—" He trailed off when he saw an angry Madam Hooch stomping across the lawn towards the screaming mass of children.

"This is outrageous!" roared the slim woman. "Fifteen points from each of you!" she snapped. "In all my years! A brawl?"

The angry witch declared the lesson over and marched the students back to their changing rooms. Everyone changed silently, and then trudged back to their Common Rooms to wait for lunch—all except for the six boys who were fighting, who were taken straight to see Professor Dumbledore.


Harry waited in his dormitory with the other Slytherin boys after they returned from Flying for Vince and Draco to get back from their telling-off from Dumbledore. Theodore and Blaise seemed more interested in whether or not the two boys would be in serious trouble, but Harry wanted to get back Longbottom's Remembrall, which he was sure Draco had pocketed rather than thrown away.

It didn't take too long for the two boys to return. Neither appeared particularly chastised—indeed, Draco was smirking as he walked through the door.

"We got a detention each," he said. "Hooch argued for a suspension but the headmaster must have realised that when my father heard about it, there'd be Hell to pay, so he stuck us with a detention instead."

"Your dad would have been angrier at you than at Dumbledore for suspending you," said Theodore quietly. "You know he would have. You shouldn't be so quick to get in trouble, Draco."

Draco glowered at Theodore.

"I couldn't just stand there and do nothing, Theo," he said. "Father would have understood."

"I wasn't talking about that," said Theodore. "And you know I don't like being called—" He frowned. "I meant with the Remembrall. What was even the point? To make the Gryffindors hate us?"

"There wasn't any point," said Draco. "It was meant to be a bit of fun. I mean, it's only Longbottom. It's not like anyone should have cared."

"Well, you ended up fighting like Muggles and getting in trouble," said Blaise. "A bit uncouth, wasn't it?"

Draco grimaced.

"I should have cursed the little Weasel instead," he said. "My father taught me a nasty little stinging curse this summer. He would have approved of that, I'm sure."

"Yeah, maybe," continued Blaise. "It just seems a bit—beneath us, you know? You lost Slytherin a load of points and—"

"What's that?" snapped Draco. "Putting a Blood Traitor in his place is 'beneath us' now, is it? His whole family's rotten, you must know that. Anyone with any decency wouldn't have—"

"I don't know why you had to go and—" Blaise started to say.

"I think you should give me back Longbottom's Remembrall, Draco," said Harry, interrupting. He didn't care about whatever strange wizarding thing his fellow first years were arguing about, and he figured that he had five more years to learn anyway if he decided to start caring about the sorts of insults Draco used. He'd been stewing over his frustration since the abrupt end of the flying lesson, and he wanted to make his opinion heard.

He had spent enough time around bullies to know that he didn't want to become one by association.

"I'm not interested in whatever problem you have with Weasley or anyone else's family," Harry said, "just give me the thing and I'll get it back to Longbottom after our next Potions lesson. He's already next to useless; there's no need to bully him as well. It makes us all look bad."

Draco's head whipped around and he regarded Harry intently. Harry stared back at him. After a few tense moments, Draco shrugged and pulled the Remembrall out of his pocket, and handed it to Harry.

"If it means that much to you, have it," Draco said. "I wasn't going to keep it."

Despite his words, Harry could tell Draco was lying, but he supposed it didn't really matter now that he had given over the Remembrall.

"Sorry to gang up on you," Harry said. "I just didn't think it was fair—I mean, there's obviously something wrong with him, you know?"

"I understand," said Draco a bit too quickly, and with a tone Harry could tell wasn't genuine. Harry assumed he just wanted the argument over and done with. "Shall we have a game of Exploding Snap?"

Harry let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. The whole encounter could have gone very differently, and he hadn't been worried about that until after the fact. It seemed however that no lasting damage had been done, and soon enough the boys were sat on Draco's bed playing cards until it was time to go to lunch.


At breakfast the next day Harry had thought about trying to discreetly return Longbottom's Remembrall, but the boy had quite uncharacteristically been surrounded by Gryffindor first years on either side, when he usually sat towards the end of the table alone, and Harry didn't feel much like approaching a table full of Gryffindors anyway. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Harry did think they looked like a generally rowdy and dangerous lot, and he had heard that the Weasley twins could be quite vicious with their jokes—especially to Slytherins.

So in the end Harry decided that it would have to be either just before, or at the end of, their next Herbology lesson. Everyone would be able to see him give it back, but at least it would only be half of the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors watching.

"D'you think Sprout will make us pair up with Gryffindors? She didn't last week, but…" asked Blaise as Viper group walked to Herbology together.

Daphne shrugged.

"I like Parvati, so I'd pick her again," she said. "I borrowed this hair clip from her. Do you like it? I think it's really pretty."

The clip was shaped like a butterfly and had moving wings that beat slowly every few seconds, and had been painted with a vivid, glittering pattern on the wings that shone in the sun. Grudgingly, Harry would have agreed it was really pretty.

"It's lovely," said Tracey. "Where did she get it, do you know?" she asked. "I might get one. Ooh, maybe they have them in flowers!"

"It's just that we start practicals this week, don't we," said Blaise, interrupting. "I don't want to get saddled with Weasley like in Potions."

"D'you reckon he's worse than Longbottom?" said Harry.

Harry reached into his pocket and closed his hand around the Remembrall. He didn't quite see the point in them himself—they apparently didn't actually tell you what you'd forgotten, only that you had forgotten something—but perhaps Longbottom would be more effective with it than without.

"I think everyone bar Vince and Greg will be better than Longbottom at basically everything," said Blaise as they reached the bottom of the stone stairs leading to the greenhouses. "Honestly, I think at least Greg is part-troll."

Harry thought that was a little unfair – Greg was nice, even though he wasn't especially smart – but he could see the resemblance to a troll. If his skin was just a little bit more green, Harry could believe he had troll somewhere in his family tree.

"This lesson is with Miss Root," said Tracey. "We've got a double with Sprout after lunch. This is just a single."

"Oh, really?" asked Blaise, frowning. "That's terrible. We've got double Transfiguration with McGonagall and then a double Herbology with Sprout. That's not fair."

"We do have lunch in between," pointed out Theodore.

"Two bloody Herbology lessons in one day is criminal," muttered Blaise. "It's just so dirty…"

"I like Herbology," said Daphne cheerfully. "At least we don't have to squeeze out worms and entrails like Potions."

"I wanted to give the Remembrall back," muttered Harry to Theodore while Daphne and Blaise argued the relative merits of Herbology, "but not in front of everyone. You reckon Miss Root will notice if I try in the lesson?"

Theodore shrugged.

"Dunno," he said. "Probably. I don't know if she'd say anything though, she seems nice."

"I thought so too," said Harry.

Unfortunately for Harry, the Gryffindors had arrived to their joint Herbology lesson first and had bunched up together right in front of the entrance to Greenhouse One, with Longbottom uncharacteristically at the centre of the group.

The greenhouse door swung open of its own accord, and a sing-song voice called out.

"Come on in, guys! We're all ready to start!"

In their pairs and groups the Gryffindors made their way inside the large greenhouse, followed by the Viper group Slytherins, and Harry looked out for an opportunity to give back Longbottom's Remembrall—to no avail. Longbottom was ensconced within the Gryffindor mass and as far away from the Slytherins as humanly possible.

"Don't worry about your gloves and stuff today!" said Miss Root, smiling. "Sorry, but I've got the boring job of demonstration! You will need your gloves and aprons after lunch with Professor Sprout, though, so remember to bring them with you!"

Miss Root turned to write something on a mobile blackboard. She eschewed the heavy full robes worn by most of the professors and instead wore a much lighter half-robe with the sleeves rolled up. She had her hair pinned up with a clip Harry was sure made Daphne and Tracey very jealous, shaped like some sort of plant he didn't recognise.

"You do need to take notes in today's session," said Miss Root, "because the professor will want to go straight into the practical this afternoon. That's why I get the really fun job of explaining to you all about the Devil's Snare. It's a big part of this year's syllabus, you know, so the professor wants you to get to grips with it really early on. You won't be meeting a full-grown specimen just yet, but I can tell you that after lunch you'll get to meet some babies…"

Harry zoned out of the explanations and instead tried to think of a way to get between the unassailable wall of Gryffindors surrounding Longbottom. He did make sure to write down the bits that seemed important – helped along by the occasional nudge from Tracey – but spent most of his time glancing at the Gryffindors, trying to think of an opening to talk with Longbottom.

He didn't manage to find one, especially not as Miss Root managed to fill the hour-long lesson with quite a lot of information about the Devil's Snare. At one point Harry even had to scratch out a couple of diagrams onto his parchment, which went about as well as he could have expected although not nearly as well as he would have liked.

Just as all the students were putting their parchment and quills back into their schoolbags, Harry saw Longbottom hang back slightly to speak with Miss Root. Seizing his chance to return the Remembrall, Harry waited just inside the greenhouse door for the two of them to finish.

He caught Longbottom just as he tried to leave.

"Longbottom, wait!" said Harry. "Sorry about the—I mean, take this. It's yours anyway." He pressed the Remembrall into Longbottom's hand.

"Th-thank you," mumbled Longbottom after a few moments. "I didn't think—thank you," he said again. "I've got to—History next…" He sped away quickly, leaving Harry alone—except for Miss Root at the back of the greenhouses.

Harry followed on, hoping to catch up with the others from Viper group as they made their way to Defence. As he did, he saw Longbottom catch up with two of the Gryffindor boys.

"What'd Potter want?" he heard one of them ask.

"Something sneaky, slippery and Slytherin, I bet," sniggered the other.

Harry didn't hear Longbottom's response as the three Gryffindor boys moved quickly away. Harry left them alone as he jogged on to meet up with the other Viper group Slytherins. He caught up with them as they entered the Defence corridor.

"Go alright with Longbottom?" asked Blaise when Harry joined the group.

Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, I suppose. I gave him his thingy back, anyway," Harry said. "Doesn't matter now. We didn't have homework for today, did we? Because if we did I haven't done mine..."

Blaise shook his head.

"Nah. I don't think Quirrell likes setting homework, to be honest with you. Mind, I don't think Quirrell likes much of anything, but..."

Harry grinned. That was one less thing to worry about, then. With the return of Longbottom's Remembrall over and done with, and no homework to worry about, it was back to the daily grind of lessons and learning how to fit in as a wizard.