"Where are you going?" asked Blaise as they walked out of the Great Hall together with the majority of the students who were rushing off to classes after lunch. Fortunately, first years have Friday afternoon off.
Harry shrugged and said, "I think I'll walk around and explore. Maybe go to the library or something."
"Library? It's only the first week of school."
"I'd like to see what books they have."
Blaise shook his head but didn't comment.
"Well, I'll see you later then," said Harry when they reached the marble staircase.
"Later." And the other boy headed toward the dungeons, probably to put his stuff in the common room.
Harry walked up alone, enjoying the peaceful solitude and taking the time to really look around, observing the portraits and enchanted armour suits and the occasional floating ghosts. The corridors were deserted. He supposed the older students were all in classes and first years were probably exploring the grounds outside the castle or in their common rooms.
The librarian looked up when he entered and he smiled tentatively, a silent greeting which she returned and promptly went back to what she was doing before, head bent over the counter. 'Madam Pince' a sign on the counter read, followed by another that had the heading 'rules of the library'. He wandered around, weaving between shelves of books, remembering where each section was located and picking out books that caught his interest. Moving towards an empty table off the side, Harry caught sight of a head of bushy brown hair in the corner. He paused, then changed direction, approaching Hermione.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Herminone looked up, surprised but cleared the books and notes that were spread on the table to make space for him.
"Thanks. Why aren't you outside with the rest of the Gryffindors?" He had overheard some of them talking about going to the lake for a picnic or something.
"Can't, I have to finish my work and read up on next chapter before class," she said, head bent over parchment and scribbling furiously.
"You should relax, you know."
"I am here to learn, not relax."
"You're here to learn, make friends and have fun," he corrected.
She stopped and looked up. "I can't fall behind just because I'm muggle-born and-"
"You don't have to prove anything just because you're muggle-born."
"I- the rest- they don't really like me. I thought if I worked harder and gained more points…"
Harry sighed. "You're getting it all wrong, Hermione. From what I've seen in Potions class today, people, if they don't like you, think that you're just an eager show-off."
"I'm not-"
"Think about it: how would you feel if you're one of them and this muggle-born girl always shows everyone up and the teachers always praise her?"
Her month slowly formed a shape of 'O' and she pressed her lips tightly, brows drawn together, thinking pensively.
"People don't take kindly to know-it-alls or teacher's pets, Hermione. You're a smart girl but you're too obvious. There's such thing as trying too hard."
"No talking in the library," a stern voice said.
Harry hadn't noticed the librarian approaching them. He gave her an apologetic look and opened his book, Transfiguration in Duels, while Herminone mouthed a 'sorry' and returned to her scribbling. Mdm Pince gave them a last warning look before walking away.
Neither of them made an attempt to talk after that, but it was a comfortable silence, a studious quiet. Harry soon lost himself in the complex explanations of human transfiguration and creative use of transfiguration in duels. It didn't really occur to him that transfiguration could be useful in duels and he resolved to think more about the possibilities. Pity they wouldn't be learning human transfiguration until sixth year.
It was nearing supper time and Harry saw that he wouldn't have time to finish the book. He borrowed it and returned the rest. Hermione had already packed her things and was by the entrance, looking interested in some runes decorating the wall. Harry didn't expect her to wait for him but he didn't comment, and they walked out together.
"You're quite nice for a Slytherin," she said suddenly, breaking the silence in the corridor.
"And you're too Ravenclaw for a Gryffindor."
They were reaching the first level and Harry said, "I think we'd better part here. The Gryffindors won't be happy if you're with a Slytherin."
The Slytherins wouldn't be happy if he was seen with a muggle-born Gryffindor either.
"Yar, I guess… see you around?"
"See you around," he said, smiling slightly.
Hermione turned right and stepped onto one of the changing staircases going up while he continued down to the dungeons.
Scattered conversations greeted him when he entered the dormitory and he caught Draco saying '… imagine Longbottom on a broom?'
"I couldn't care less as long as he doesn't injure me with his clumsiness," said Blaise. "Hey, Harry."
"Hey." Harry set down his bag and plopped himself on his bed. "What's all this talk about broomsticks and injuries?"
"We've got flying lessons with the Gryffindors next Thursday. It's on the notice board."
"I thought first years aren't allowed to bring brooms?"
"We'll be using old school brooms, I think."
Draco made a face. "It's a crime for such a talented flyer as myself to use those old brooms."
"If you're truly talented, you'd still look good on the lousiest broomstick," said Harry.
Draco looked pleased at the thought; he obviously didn't catch the underlying insinuation about his flying 'talent'. Harry tuned out when they, mainly Draco, started talking about their harrowing adventures on the broomstick- 'nearly crashed into a muggle helicopter once'- and thought about how nice it would be to be able to fly freely again.
--oO--
Harry knocked sharply on the door and it swung open immediately, just enough for him to enter. It slammed shut behind him as soon as he crossed the threshold, soundlessly so, but he could feel the sudden and short disturbance in the air, cooling the back of his neck. Severus sat behind his desk, partially covered by rolls of parchment stacked up neatly on the left. He scratched out something with red ink and scrawled a final mark, which looked like either a tick or a 'C'.
"Marking essays so soon?"
"I wouldn't call them essays. No insight, no understanding, no logical connectives. Just blind reproduction of resource books." Severus made another irate red slash across the parchment.
"Go easy on the first years. It's only their first essay."
Severus looked up and enunciated, "I do not go easy on anyone." He scowled at the essay and wrote something, something unpleasant no doubt, and continued, "Besides, these are third years' work."
Harry didn't know who to feel more sorry for, the professor marking trashy work or the poor student who was being failed with great scathing remarks all over his script. It looks like he would need to wait if he wanted to speak to the man. He sighed and walked over to a side shelf, his eyes wandering over the titles.
Harry finally picked out one 'Useful Potions' and settled by the fireplace to read, lying on his front.
"I suppose you intend to play Quidditch for the house."
Harry looked up thoughtfully. "I might."
"Only might? After all the time spent nearly breaking your neck and every other bone in your body? Oh, I think you will."
"First years don't make team."
"There are exceptions to every rule, Mr Potter," Severus said neutrally.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Playing favouritism, Uncle?"
"Favouritism is reward without merit. You'll be deciding if you get to play this year."
"Hmm… maybe. Will we still have lessons?"
"I should think school work would be keeping you busy."
Harry smiled. No regular lessons then, but his doors are open for independent studies.
"Tell me about your colleagues."
"I do not gossip with my students."
He threw Severus a mock-hurt look and got up to put the book back on the shelf.
"How do you find the Slytherins?"
"I do not gossip with my teachers," Harry said primly, and grinned. "They're okay. I think strong friendships can be built as time pass."
"Most of these children have parents with allegiance to the Dark Lord. Choose your friends wisely."
"I know. I just think they shouldn't be judged by their parents' actions."
"I'm not judging them. All I'm saying is be careful. The Dark Lord may be gone but he's not dead."
"I know." Harry examined the miniature silver clock tower on the mantelpiece. "It's late. I think I should go back now." He turned to Severus and joked, "Won't want to be seen fraternizing with the teachers."
"Brat. Go away before I take points."
"Sweet dreams Professor," Harry said cheekily and ducked out of the door. Standing in the isolated corridor, his smile faded as he remembered Severus's words. It was common sense, he knew, but it's so tiring to keep thinking like that. They are still children. Perhaps in time, when there's a cause for distrust…
--oO—
Harry had almost forgotten about the flying lesson until Draco reminded him. No wonder he had caught more buzzing and chattering about flying and helicopters and Quidditch today. The first-years also seemed more restless during classes, especially those after lunch. He was looking forward to be on a broom again, feeling the wind around him, hanging in mid air doing crazy stunts that made his blood rush to his ears, the wonderful exhilarating feeling of freedom.
They headed to the grounds after class ended. Draco, Blaise, Vincent, Gregory and Pansy were in high spirits. Millicent seemed too quiet while Theodore was his usual self, composed and not talking much. It seemed they had reached there before the Gryffindors. Broomsticks were already laid out neatly in two rows, looking rather battered and worn. Flying on these would be a bit more challenging. He always did like challenges.
The Gryffindors arrived shortly, their loud voices toning down once they neared them. Already, some of the Gryffindors were shooting dirty looks at them and more than a few Slytherins sneered or glared at them. Harry mentally shook his head at the childish rivalry. Which idiot started it anyway?
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" a voice barked. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, was stalking towards them. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Harry just stood by the nearest broomstick, not bothering to choose since they were all in the same condition – one just as bad as the next.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Draco succeeded too and he looked pleased with himself. Their eyes met and Harry found himself smiling back at the blonde because the passion for flying was mutual. He looked around and saw that Hermione's broomstick had simply rolled over on the ground and she seemed to be getting more irritated as it still wouldn't respond. Still trying so hard, he sees.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Draco flushed a little when she told him he'd been doing it wrong for years. It might be pride; it might be the snickering Gryffindors opposite them.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -- three-- two --"
But before Madam Hooch could blow the whistle, one of the Gryffindor boys – Longbottom, he realised - started rising off the ground, having kicked off too early.
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Longbottom continued ascending rapidly straight up. Harry saw that he had no control of his broom at all, just clinging onto it for dear life and it was pointed the wrong way, going further up still. Longbottom's pale face stared down – Harry can almost hear the gasp – and he fell sideways off the broom and-
Harry winced at the thud and sickening crack sound as Longbottom landed facedown on the grass. Broken wrist. Takes a few weeks to heal; he should know. Not that the nurse will let it heal naturally when it could be fixed with a quick spell.
Madam Hooch was bending over Longbottom, her face as white as his. It's not common to have serious accidents in flying lessons, he supposed.
She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is 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."
Longbottom, his face tear-streaked, clutched his wrist and hobbled off with Madam Hooch who had her arm around him.
Longbottom would be fine. There's nothing much that magic can't fix. Pity it had to end like that though. Harry sighed. He wondered if he needed permission to go flying by himself during his free time, and if he could get it.
Draco nudged him. "Did you see his face?"
"Perhaps he hasn't flown before," Harry said absently.
Draco seemed a little peeved with his lackluster response but a glint of light among green blades caught his eye and he darted forward, snatching something out of the grass. "Look," he said, holding up a clear glass sphere that glittered in the sun. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
Harry took a glance and became interested in the object. "Is that a Remembrall?"
"Don't you take Neville's things, Malfoy. Give it back!" It was the red haired boy. Weasley, Harry recalled. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Draco smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find -- how about up a tree?"
"Give it back!" Weasley yelled.
"Draco, don't be rash," Harry whispered, but Draco had already leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying; he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Weasley!"
More trouble. Harry half-hoped Weasley wouldn't take the bait so Draco would get bored and come down but no, Gryffindors had to live up to their name.
"No!" Hermione shouted as Weasley mounted his broom and kicked off. "Madam Hooch told us not to move. You'll get us all into trouble."
Weasley rose awkwardly, then with more confidence. Harry noticed he didn't have Draco's flair in flying.
"Give it back!"
"You want it? Go get it." Draco threw the Remembrall and smirked at Weasley.
Harry hoped Weasley wasn't going to try to dive – no, he was. Idiots. All idiots, he cursed silently. Madam Hooch would be mad to find that there had been another accident when she got back. And Longbottom would end up with a broken Remembrall.
"Don't be a fool, Weasley. Accio Remembrall!"
The little sphere suddenly sped in the opposite direction towards him and Harry caught it. Draco had landed and he clapped him on the back. "Nice one, Harry."
He smiled tightly. "I didn't do it for show. You could have gotten into trouble if Weasley broke his neck."
Draco shrugged. "I was only having fun. Besides, Weasley knows his limitations and the dangers. He won't dive all the way."
"Perhaps."
Weasley landed in front of them, his face red, obviously angry. "You despicable Slytherins! Tricking me to go after the Remembrall then snatching it back again."
"I saved you from risking a broken neck and a broken Remembrall. But since you're so ungrateful… Hermione."
She was surprised to be called and stepped forward cautiously. "Here," he tossed her the Remembrall, "you give it to Longbottom."
Draco looked at him incredulously while Hermione gave him a small smile. The Gryffindors alternate between staring and glaring at him, and his housemates wore varying looks of disbelief. Well, except Theodore. Nothing much ruffled his composure, it seemed.
"Slimy Slytherin pretending to be kind," Weasley muttered.
"If you're unhappy, I can always throw the Remembrall for you to catch again, Weasley," he snapped.
"What's going on?" Madam Hooch asked, approaching them. Her yellow, hawk-like eyes swept over them sharply.
"We were discussing Quidditch, Professor. It got heated when we came to which team is the best." Harry said smoothly and smiled.
She looked over the group of them and seemingly satisfied, said, "Mr Longbottom is fine, and resting in the infirmary. We will continue the lesson another time. You are dismissed."
They dispersed, muttering among themselves. Some expressed disappointment at not having flown while others expressed relief at not having to fly, but most were whispering about the Remembrall incident.
"Why did you do that for?" Draco demanded once Madam Hooch was out of earshot, arms crossed over his chest.
"You had your fun. So I gave it back." Draco still didn't look too happy so he added, "I didn't want you to get into trouble."
Draco thought for a while then smiled and said, "All right, you're forgiven."
The way a spoilt rich boy thinks… Harry reflected, amused.
"And thanks," Draco said, almost as an afterthought.
At least he's polite.
oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--
Thanks to all reviewers! I appreciate all the comments and suggestions. Still haven't decided which one to do. I may finish year one then just move on to interesting scenes. With luck, this story shouldn't be left hanging forever.
ETA - athenakitty: thanks for the shelf/shelves correct.
Please review! Comments/ thoughts on characterisation/ writing/ dialogue etc welcomed.
