Chapter 6 A flying mishap
H.J.P
As the next morning came and the morning classes flew by, Harry couldn't help thinking that something was off with Professor Quirrell. That morning the first-year Gryffindors had their second DADA lesson. Like the last lesson, the room was filled with the smell of garlic. During Quirrell's stuttering lecture that barely anyone could comprehend, Harry's scar was hurting. He noticed that both times he was in the same room at Quirrell, his scar would start to act up.
When he brought up this matter with Ron and Hermione at lunch, they both had different reactions. Ron just told him he was being paranoid and went back to eating his food. Hermione on the other hand was concerned and suggested that they go look up curses in the library to see if there is anything on cursed scars. Harry shook his head and said, "Nah, I'm probably overreacting." Although he was a bit disappointed that they didn't even ask that he was ok but he didn't mind too much as he was more focused on the upcoming flying lesson.
Slytherin and Gryffindor firsties soon found themselves walking down to their flying lesson in the afternoon. There were two rows of broomsticks, the Gryffindors lined up on one side and the Slytherins on the other. Their instructor Madam Hooch had amber coloured eyes which scanned the whole class like a hawk before she started reciting how to mount a broom. They were told to stick their dominant hand over the broom handle and say up. Harry's broom, with a few other people, jumped straight into his hand, although others were having difficulties.
After everyone had their broom in hand, Madam Hooch showed them how to grip the handle, as well as mounting. Much to Ron's delight, Draco had been mounting his broomstick wrong for years according to Hooch. Although Draco was Harry's friend, he was still amused by the whole situation and laughed a little at Draco who was blushing from embarrassment, which earned him a death glare.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, kick-off from the ground, hard." Said Madam Hooch. 'Keep your broom steady, rise a few feet and then come straight down by leaning forward slightly. Ready, three-two-"
But Neville, who had been nervous all morning, kicked off hard before the whistle blew. "Come back, boy." Madam Hooch shouted but Neville continued to rise high into the sky. 12 feet—18 feet. Harry could see even from the ground even with his terrible vision that Neville's face was turning as pale as a banshee. Before Hooch could fly up to help Neville, he swayed and slipped sideways off his broom. As Neville slammed onto the ground, a clean crack was heard.
Madam Hooch bent over Neville, quickly accessing his injuries, ignoring how Neville's broom slowly floated towards the forbidden forest and out of sight.
Harry saw Hooch sigh and heard her mutter "Broken wrist." She turned to the class as she helped Neville up and said "You will all stay where you are while I take this boy up to the infirmary. Touch those brooms and you'll be out of the Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come along, dear." With that, they trudged up to the castle.
Beside him, Ron began grumbling since they hadn't had the chance to ride the brooms. Harry was only half listening when he saw Goyle point to something in the grass to Draco. Bending down, Draco picked up a Remembrall, which Harry recognised from breakfast. It was Neville's, who received it from his Gran via owl post that morning
"Look!" Draco exclaimed. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom got from his pathetic grandmother."
Harry narrowed his eyes, he didn't know what Draco was up to but he didn't like it. Not one bit. "Give it here Malfoy," Harry said quietly. If people weren't looking before, they were now.
Draco was smirking but raised an eyebrow, to get his unasked question across. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about up a tree." Draco said, grabbing a broom in the process.
"Give it back," Harry said louder than before but it was for naught since Draco had already kicked off and was in the air. He had to admit that Draco was a good flyer.
"Come get it, Potter." Draco taunted, holding the Remembrall to the sun, making it sparkle.
Oh, what the hell. Harry thought. Might as well try flying now.
Harry grabbed a broom from beside him before Hermione interrupted "No!" she shouted. "You'll get us all in trouble, remember what Madam Hooch said."
Alas, Harry ignored her, mounting his broom and kicked hard against the ground, soaring into the crisp autumn air. His robes flapped behind him, the wind in face messing up his hair but he did not care. He felt an immense joy as he flew through the air, he didn't need to learn how to fly because something inside him knew how to already and that brought a bigger smile to his face.
After a few sharp turns and dives which earned him some small screams and gasps, he swung his broom around so he was facing Draco, who looked surprised. They were high enough that their voices couldn't be heard over the soft wind.
"Give it here Draco or I will knock you off your broom," Harry called.
"You wouldn't dare," Draco said.
Harry raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh really, try me."
He could see Draco looked a bit worried but then said loudly "Let's see if your flying is up to scratch Potter."
That's when he threw the small ball, letting fall towards the ground. Harry dived, completely oblivious to the screams below, just letting his instincts take over. Heart pounding and the blood rushing to his head, he was flying right towards the ground with his right hand stretched out. His hand closed around the ball and he then sharply brought his broom up before he could crash into the ground which he was a few feet from.
As he came down to the ground with his classmates, who looked at him with aww, a shrill voice rang through the air.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Harry's heart skipped a beat as he turned to see his head of house running towards him and the rest of the class.
"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts-" Professor McGonagall was lost for words from shock and her eyes flashed dangerously. "-how dare you - might have broken your neck -" Some of his fellow Gryffindors tried to tell McGonagall what happened but she just cut off their protests. "Potter, follow me, now."
Harry followed with a sense of defeat, not missing how the Slytherins were sharing smirks of triumph as he and McGonagall walked up to the castle.
Many thoughts swirled around in his mind, thoughts on expulsion and returning to his uncle were part of many troubling thoughts in his head. Although those thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind when McGonagall stopped in front of the charms classroom. She opened the door and asked for Wood.
Suddenly the castle melted from his view and was replaced by the parlour at the Dursley residence. Harry could feel the blood draining from his face as he realised what memory had engulfed his mind. Before him, he could see himself at the age of 7 beside a large Christmas tree with his cousin Dudley. He had gotten nothing but a pair of old socks whereas Dudley had a massive pile of gifts. His cousin was holding a wooden bat that he had just unwrapped and started to repeatedly hit his younger self with his new bat, while his uncle just watched with an evil grin as he quietly whimpered from the pain.
It was like Harry was in a trance just staring at his younger self but was snapped out of it when he heard his name. Blinking, he was back standing beside McGonagall and an older Gryffindor boy.
"Potter, are you alright?" McGonagall asked, the anger in her tone from earlier had passed.
"Sorry, I'm fine," Harry said, not meeting her eye.
"If you're sure." She said, obviously doubting him but continued "Both of you, follow me."
As she led them down the corridor, the other Gryffindor was shooting him curious glances as they went. They entered an unused classroom which was empty except for Peeves writing rude messages on the blackboard.
After McGonagall barked at them to leave, she turned back to her students. "Potter, this is Oliver Wood, Wood I've found you a seeker."
Wood's face brightened when he fully understood what she said but asked doubtfully "This is not just some cruel joke to tell me to hurry up and choose a seeker is it?"
"I can assure you this is not a joke." She said. "He is a natural, was that the first time on a broom Potter?" Harry slowly nodded his head, he knew that first years couldn't play on their house team but she sounded like she was ignoring that. "He dived about 50 feet and caught that-" She pointed at the Remembrall in his hand. "-and didn't have a scratch on him. Even Charlie Weasley couldn't do that."
Wood looked like he had just won the lottery. He had a sparkle in his eyes as he turned his attention to Harry "Ever seen a game of Quidditch Potter?" He asked eagerly. Harry shook his head.
"Wood's the Gryffindor captain you see," McGonagall explained.
"He's the right build for a seeker. We'd have to get him a decent broom Professor."
"Hmm, I'd have to get the headmaster to bend the rules but I can't stand if Slytherins win again, I couldn't look Severus in the eye for weeks." She turned her attention back to Harry "Don't make me change my mind about giving you detention." She then smiled " Your father would be proud of you if he could see you now, your mother too.
