Flight
It was finally time for flying lessons.
Harry couldn't help but wonder why Gryffindor was paired with Slytherin for the class, seeing as flying was surely one of the more dangerous classes they would have this year and the rivalry between the two houses was the strongest rivalry in the school.
And so of course they were paired up in potions, where a single mistake in ingredient order could endanger the entire class, and flying, where they would be at a potentially dangerous height above the ground.
Not for the first time he wondered why the staff didn't seem to recognise the dangers.
For the lesson they were directed to the courtyard, which did have the admitted benefit of having a relatively soft landing provided by the grass, but happened to be surrounded by the stone walls of the castle with occasional statue holding a sculpted sword.
Not the potential obstacles he wanted when learning to fly.
As they left the castle, led by the strict madam Hooch (their instructor for the lesson who reminded him somewhat of a bird of prey), he saw two rows of broomsticks, placed about the width of a person apart.
"Welcome to your first flying lesson," Hooch began. "Let me make one thing clear from the outset. There will be no messing around in my classes. If anyone so much as thinks of joking about they will be out of here before they know it. Now then, everyone take your place besides a broom."
As Harry took his place next to one of the less... worn-looking brooms he glanced around at the others in the class.
Neville demonstrated his usual lack of confidence, which Harry could only hope wouldn't result in his flight being cut off partway. On the other row of broomsticks, seeing as the class had separated across house lines as was the norm, Malfoy was acting in a way that made it clear he wasn't paying attention to their teachers direction.
Hooch waited until everyone was in place before giving her next direction.
"Hold your wand hand out over the broom and command it 'up'," she instructed.
There were two immediate possibilities for why they needed to command the broom into their hands that sprung to Harrys mind. Either they needed to create a magical connection with the broom before they use them, or it was, in a sense, a test for their ability to fly.
The broom responded to his first command, jumping into his hand.
Other students weren't quite so fortunate, Ronalds broom, for example jumping up end first on the third try, to whack him in the face.
Malfoys attempted to do the same, only for him to step aside, grabbing the broom as he did.
Many others, such as Neville and Hermione, had brooms that seemed particularly reluctant to obey direction, rolling on the floor rather than gaining any height.
Eventually all the students had a broomstick in their hand, Hooch not having any more useful advice than "try again with more feeling".
With everyone ready for the next step, Hooch gave them all instruction on how to mount the broom properly, which took much longer for Malfoy than everyone else, seeing as he refused to change from the way he'd been taught and using for years even with Hooch telling him exactly why they weren't taught to use that flying style.
Harry winced, hearing the many ways someone using Malfoys method could lose their grip and fall.
Finally everyone was settled according to Hoochs directions.
"When I blow my whistle you will give a firm kick off the floor, allow yourself to float for a moment, then press down on the head of the broom to return to the ground. Does everyone understand? Right, three... two... one... PEEP."
Harry launched himself at the moment Hooch blew her whistle, only to soon realise he was one of only two people in the air.
It seemed Neville had floated up on the broom, rather than kicking off, and everyone else had seen and kept on the floor. (AN: seriously, why was Neville the only one in the air in the film? Hooch had blown her whistle)
Harry hesitated a moment, pondering the question of if he should follow Hoochs prior direction or help Neville.
His decision was made when Neville, clearly not able to control his broom, started flying off, out of control. The fact that Neville started moving forward when the head of the broom went down did leave certain questions about their instructions...
In any case, as Hooch didn't have a broom to hand, and was currently too panicked about Neville losing control to do anything useful, while Harry was the only one in the air and so with a chance of helping.
He adjusted his centre of balace further forward on the broom, shifting the head down and starting to move forwards after Neville.
"Mister Namikaze, what do you think you are doing?"
Hoochs demand made it clear that she had finally noticed he was in the air as well.
"Following your directions," he answered quickly. "Pushing the head down. It doesn't seem to be making he descend," he called the last over his shoulder as he pursued Neville.
As he reached a hand out to grab the end of Nevilles robes, his deliberate pursuit being faster, his broom rolled to the left, his centre of balance having changed.
Nevilles broom took the opportunity provided by his temporary loss of control to swerve to the side, nearing the castle wall.
Acting on instinct Harry rolled his broom to place it between him and the castle as he turned to chase Neville, reaching out a hand more carefully this time, to avoid upsetting his centre of balance again.
As he caught hold of Nevilles robes he pulled up both his broom and Nevilles, the latter using the leverage of his hold on Neville.
"Harry?"
He glanced up to see Neville had turned to see what had caught his robes and arrested his flight.
"I've got you," he told Neville. "Now lower your broom carefully, focus on landing," he added, recalling his discussion with the twins. After all, by the look of it Neville had wanted to be anywhere else and had flown out of control...
With his careful direction they reached the ground safely, at which point Neville all but threw himself off the broom and onto the safety of the ground.
"What did you think you were doing mister Namikaze," Hooch demanded from behind him as he dismounted.
"I followed your direction," Harry replied, not yet turning. "You told us to kick off when you blew your whistle, which I did. The next instruction was to lower the head, which I did."
"The moment a student lost control you should have returned to the ground!"
"That wasn't part of your directions. And in any case, my point is that I followed your directions on how to descend."
"Clearly not or you wouldn't have flown after Longbottom."
Harry was getting fed up of this. He turned to the rest of the class. "What was madam Hoochs instruction on descending?"
Those of his classmates that responded agreed that it was "pushing the head of the broom down".
"And what did I do with my broom?"
A few more answered this time, all agreeing (aside from Malfoy) that he had indeed lowered the head of the broom.
He turned to Hooch again. "You see, everyone agrees that I followed your directions."
"And yet once you had caught up to your classmate you had no problem bringing both of you to a landing."
Harry was getting even more fed up.
"Recently I heard the interesting fact that magic responds to intent. Nevilles broom responded to his desire to be anywhere else, while mine responded to my intent not to let my friend be hurt or killed by the fact that our instructor was clearly unprepared for anything to go wrong, and decided that teaching us how to fly surrounded, quite closely I might add, by stone walls. If I had not acted you would, at best, be taking Neville to the hospital wing. It was my actions, unaided or directed by your instruction, that prevented this. If you want me to be punished, might I suggest you bring it up with professor McGonagall, while I take Neville to see madam Pomfrey in case he was injured during the flight you did nothing to prevent."
He put word to action, helping Neville up and guiding him back into the school, ignoring Hoochs splutters of helpless anger.
"I'm fine," Neville protested, but Harry, with his training, could see he was favouring a leg from where he caught the wall. "You don't need to-"
"You're my friend," Harry cut him off. "Someone needs to make sure you're alright, and it clearly isn't going to be any of the teachers. I mean, your lack of confidence is surely what causes you so much of a problem with your spells."
Neville looked even more downcast. "My gran was so happy about me demonstrating enough magic to come to Hogwarts that she gave me my dads old wand, but I haven't been living up to his legacy."
Harry frowned. "What sort of wand is it?"
"Acacia and Unicorn hair," Neville responded.
Harry winced. "When I was getting my wand Ollivander gave a running commentary on what the materials in the wand meant. He mentioned both Acacia and unicorn hair as being the materials for a particularly loyal wand. With both... you'd probably be better served with a stick, as at least then you wouldn't have the wand fighting against you."
"So I can't even continue my fathers legacy," Neville said in a downbeat manner.
"The best way for you to honour your parents, to continue their legacy, is to be the best wizard you can. And part of that is making sure you're matched with a wand that will work with you."
"And what of my dads wand?"
"He died in the war didn't he," Harry stated. "That's why you want to continue his legacy so badly."
"Not... exactly," Neville hedged.
"I strongly doubt that your parents were followers of the taboo guy," Harry mused, adding a dismissive tone for the cowardice that the taboo indicated, "so that means he's... what... in some kind of magical coma?"
"Something like that," Neville admitted.
"In which case there's a chance he could recover," Harry asserted. "And should he recover it would be best if his wand was available for him to use promptly, right? Another point in favour of getting yourself a properly matched wand."
"I don't want to be a bother," Neville protested weakly.
"We're nearly at the hospital wing, we can ask madam Pomfrey when we see her. After all if anyone would know about any health risks from using an improperly matched wand she would."
"I don't know..."
Harry resolved to ask Pomfrey regardless. Nevilles use of his fathers wand was causing problems for his spellcasting, which harmed his confidence, causing more problems for his spellcasting. If he didn't get a matched wand it was likely he would end up with permanent issues with his magic.
[|]
Many people, staff as well as student, no doubt thought that madam Pomfrey didn't have much to do all day except wait for someone to show up with injuries or sick, but that wasn't the case.
Instead she had to make daily checks of her stock of potions, in case she was suddenly running low or some had gone bad, keep up to date on any new illnesses or magical side effects that were being reported and keeping on top of seasonal incidents before they could happen, like hayfever (which was a lot more serious in the magical world than out of it).
The way that a lot of this work involved her sitting in her office with paperwork no dount helped the belief.
As it was she was just finishing the latest 'Magical Maladies Monthly' issue when there was a knock on the door to her hospital wing.
For once whoever it was didn't immediately barge in, which eliminated... just about everyone she was familiar with in the school.
It was a pair of first years, she found upon opening the door.
"What seems to be the problem?"
"Neville lost control of his broom during our flying lesson, and seems to have hurt his leg," the one that looked just like a young James Potter, aside from his eyes and lack of glasses, stated.
"It's not that bad," the other boy, clearly the young Longbottom heir, protested.
"Let me be the judge of that," she told him, casting a quick diagnostic charm. No broken bones, but bruising and a certain level of abrasions. "Not as bad as it could be, but I'd prefer to keep you in until I'm sure you've recovered."
"While we are here, there's something I was wondering."
"Harry, no," Neville protested feebly.
"Are there any dangers from using a wand that wasn't properly matched?"
"Not directly, but it certainly isn't a good idea. I'm guessing that you have a problem then, mister Longbottom."
"He's been using his fathers wand," Harry informed her. "Acacia and unicorn hair apparently."
"That won't do at all," madam Pomfrey declared immediately. "It'd be a wonder if he could manage so much as a simple 'lumos'. I'll have to talk to the headmaster, see about getting you to the alley for a proper wand."
Nevilles expression was a mix of hope and fear.
Clearly this was down to his grandmother, someone she recalled well from their time at Hogwarts together. It was how she'd learned that some people just couldn't take advice and would insist that their opinion was right and all that mattered.
AN: I was starting to think I wouldn't manage a chapter this week. And what I missed from the sorting and should have corrected in the last few chapters... well, I should manage to bring it up in herbology next chapter.
As a side note, a quick check online for wand material meanings does indicate that acacia and unicorn hair would be ridiculously loyal and the best match for what Nevilles father used.
