The next Monday came around, and Harry stared at the paper pinned on the Ravenclaw notice board with dread. The notice was informing the students that their flying lessons would begin on Friday.
Admittedly, Harry had been looking forward to learning to fly on a broom, especially if it would help him with Bruce's nighttime job, but part of him was terrified that he was going to make a fool of himself in front of everybody. "Do you know how to fly?'' he asked Michael, who was standing next to him.
"No," Michael replied hesitantly. "I never really had the interest to try."
"What if we end up looking like idiots?"
Michael shrugged as Padma walked to them. "Worried about flying lessons?" she asked. "I'm sure you won't be the only ones who don't know how to fly."
"You know how to fly?" Michael questioned sceptically.
Padma raised her eyebrow at Michael. "Only the basics," she laughed, "but apparently that's still more than you."
Both Anthony and Terry jokingly bragged about their flying skills and even Sue Li talked about how she was part of her local under 11s Quidditch team.
When Tuesday arrived, the group went to the library to discuss Flamel. Harry sat with Michael and Padma, and waited for Neville and Hermione to arrive.
The Gryffindor duo came within a few minutes, both nervous and clutching books. They both placed their books on the table and Harry saw all the books were about flying. "Nervous?" Harry asked.
Hermione's face dropped, and Neville nodded hesitantly. "I've tried to read about it, but it's no use," she muttered. "I asked Ronald and Seamus, but they've only got stories about flying instead of advice."
Neville blushed a deep red and added, "Gran would never let me fly, she was too scared I'd crash."
Harry shrugged. "We'll probably figure it out when we start. Anyhow, the point of the lessons is to teach us, other people will be in our situation."
Hermione sighed but looked relieved. "True," she conceded. "Any news on Flamel?"
Michael leaned forwards and began talking. "We went to Hagrid's hut on Friday." He indicated himself and Harry. "Found out the Cerberus is his, and he basically confirmed that it's guarding something. And he said that whatever is being protected is between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."
"That's Dumbledore's ex-alchemy partner," Harry added.
Hermione looked in thought. "So that means that whatever is being protected is likely to be alchemy based."
"Exactly, so we need to figure out what it is," Harry confirmed.
The group quickly dissolved into theorising what was being protected, interspersed with worrying about flying, until they all left for their common rooms.
Eventually, it was 3:15 on Thursday, and the Ravenclaws made their ways to the Quidditch field. The area was a smooth and flat lawn, where the grass rippled in the breeze. The Hufflepuffs soon joined them, and the twenty students walked to the line of brooms, where the teacher stood.
The teacher, Madam Hooch, surveyed the group with her yellow hawk-like eyes, which poked out from under her short, grey hair. "What are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick, and hurry."
The first years glanced uncertainly at each other before standing over a broom. Harry looked down at his broom, it was old and worn with twigs sticking out at odd angles.
"Stand by the left of your broom, stick your right hand over your broom," instructed Madam Hooch from the centre of the class, "and say 'UP!'"
The class did as told, and a chorus of UPs filled the air.
Harry's broom soared into his outstretched hand instantly, while Padma's simply wobbled on the ground, and Michael's remained immobile on the floor. Within a few minutes, everybody was on their broom, although some had simply chosen to pick up their broom.
Madam Hooch then showed the class how to mount their brooms without slipping off at high speeds, and she walked the rows correcting their grips.
Harry mounted his broom, tightening his thighs around the handle and gripping the ends with his hands.
"When I blow my whistle, kick off from the ground," Madam Hooch announced. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then lean forward to descend. On my whistle, three, two, one." She blew her whistle loudly, and all twenty students kicked off hard.
Harry kicked the ground, and although he expected to fall instantly due to the existence of gravity, he hovered in the air thanks to the existence of magic. He pulled the broom back and tilted it upwards and gently flew a few feet into the air. He waited for a few moments before tilting the broom back down and descending back to his starting place.
The class continued with the basics of flying, such as learning how to raise, hover, and land, as well as how to hold the broom correctly.
Harry returned to the Ravenclaw Tower, more exhausted than he thought he would be since he had only been sitting on a broom for an hour. When he, Michael, and Padma entered the common room, they found Penelope Clearwater, the prefect, waiting for them. "Harry," she said as the group approached. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office."
Harry exchanged a panicked look with Michal and Padma, did Dumbledore know that they knew about the Cerberus? "Do you know what he wants?" Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Penelope shrugged. "Flitwick didn't say," she explained. "He just said the Headmaster wants to see you as soon as possible. His office is on the third floor, behind a Gargoyle." With her piece said, Penelope walked away leaving Michael and Padma looking at Harry.
"What do you think he wants?" Michael asked.
"Maybe it's nothing," Harry tried to reassure. "Maybe he likes checking on all the Muggle raised students?" Both Michael and Padma looked at him with their eyebrows raised dubiously. Harry sighed. "I know. Want to come with me?"
The two nodded, and the three of them started to walk to the Headmaster's office, all of them becoming more nervous as they neared. Harry spotted the Gargoyle and stood by it with hesitation. "I have a meeting with Dumbledore." The gargoyle remained immobile for a moment before stepping aside, revealing an ascending staircase. "You two stay here," Harry said to Michael and Padma, who nodded.
Harry began to climb the staircase until he found an oak double door. He paused, before knocking loudly.
"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore's grandfatherly voice came from inside the room. Harry pushed the door open and observed the room.
The room had all the grandeur of Wayne Manor without any of the size. It was a large and circular room, with various noises coming from the objects scattered around the room. The walls were adorned with portraits of previous headteachers, all of whom were staring at Harry with interest. There was also an enormous claw-footed desk, with the Sorting Hat on a shelf behind it. Directly behind the desk sat Dumbledore, who observed Harry with a twinkle in his eye. On the opposite end of the desk was an empty chair. Next to Dumbledore, perched an odd looking bird that resembled a hawk, although it had a longer neck and it's feathers were an equal blend of crimson and gold.
"Hello Harry," Dumbledore greeted, as Harry gawked at the bird. Dumbledore smiled. "Noticed Fawkes, have you?"
"Fawkes?" Harry repeated, sitting on the chair offered to him.
"My Phoenix. The embodiment of rebirth. They become weaker as they age, until they are reborn after their deaths, where they become strong again."
"Sir," Harry said uncertainly, "I was told you wanted to see me?"
Dumbledore's smile widened. "I just wanted to see how you were settling in at Hogwarts."
Harry felt his eyes narrow in suspicion. "Do you have this talk with every student, Sir?"
"Ah, I must confess, I do not."
"Then why me?" Harry asked. "Sir," he added as an afterthought.
"I was worried about you," Dumbledore replied. "After the death of your Muggle relatives, nobody was sure of what happened to you."
"My Muggle relatives? You know about them?"
"Of course. After the tragic deaths of your parents, it was me who decided to task them with your care."
"'My care,'" Harry repeated incredulously, his anger growing, his voice becoming louder. "The people that locked me away, starved me, and beat me? You trusted them with me?"
"I believed it for the best. With your reputation as a saviour in the Wizarding World, I felt if you were raised with magic you would become vain and conceited."
"And you felt me being abused and hated was a better choice?" Harry yelled, his voice laced with sarcasm. "How do you even know that they were killed?"
"I admit, maybe your placement was not the best choice, but at the time I thought it best. And as for how I know, I have been keeping track of you, your safety was my top priority."
"You kept track of me!" Harry shouted. "Obviously not well, if you don't even know what happened to me. As for my safety being your priority, I was starved and ignored. Then I ended up going to America, that's where my 'family' were killed. Then I was adopted by somebody that actually cared for me, and taught me well." Harry stood up, his chair clattering loudly behind him in the otherwise quiet office. "If that's all, I would like to leave."
Dumbledore calmly raised his hand. "Unfortunately, that is not all."
Reluctantly, Harry pulled his chair back towards him and sat down.
"Professor Snape recently informed me that there was an unauthorised duel a few days ago. Do you know anything about this?" Dumbledore was still wearing his grandfatherly smile.
Harry remained silent, weighing up his options. "No," he eventually said.
"Very well." Dumbledore smiled. "One more thing though, Hagrid informed me that you discovered my connection to Nicolas Flamel. I must stress this is not for you to investigate, and there is nothing hidden in Hogwarts. Now, you can leave."
Harry nodded, pushed back his chair, and walked away. One thought was in his head, Investigate the connection, and find whatever is hidden in Hogwarts.