Chapter Six: Flight
-GINNY-
On the Friday after term had started, Ginny received a letter from her parents. The very next day, Susan's aunt owled her. And on a sleepy Saturday morning, while sipping at her tea, Zinn pointed toward a massive owl as it swooped over their table and closed in on Dru, landing amidst the empty place-setting next to her.
"S-s…such a p…retty b…b-bird," she cooed, gently reaching up to scratch the owl's chin. The bird preened under the attention, and if was possible for an owl to look smug, this one did so.
"That's Maximus," Dru said, snatching up the envelope and sliding a bit of bacon to the owl. "He's an eagle owl."
"Well, which is it?" Ginny asked with a grin. "An eagle or an owl?"
"I asked Mum that once, and she didn't have an answer," Dru admitted as her eyes scanned the letter. "Well, that's three. Mum's on the warpath, too."
All three girls had gotten similar correspondence from their relatives; the situation at Hogwarts was not at all to the liking of Mum and Dad, Susan's Aunt Amelia, or Dru's mum, all of whom were now collaborating in an effort to see a proper investigation done. Unfortunately, such things took time and meetings and the convening of several committees within the Ministry. If it were to get out that Dad or Amelia were rushing the process, it would immediately be seen as a misuse of their positions.
"It looks like we're supposed to just go on business as usual until then," Dru sighed. "Boring."
"I wanted a bunch of aurors to storm in and arrest Dumbledore in a helicopter or something," Ginny huffed.
"What's a helicopter?" Susan asked.
"It's like a…whirlimajig that flies around on spinny fan blades," Ginny said, motioning a rotating propeller with her finger as Susan stared at her skeptically.
"A…what now?" she asked. "Are you making things up?"
She paused as Zinn slid a piece of paper toward her, and Ginny marveled at the quite well-depicted sketch of a helicopter that she saw.
"Wow, Zinn! That's not bad!" she said, and Zinn smiled with a bashful blush.
"I l…like d…r-rawing," she admitted.
"It's really good," Susan said with a grin. "I don't even know what it is, but I like it. Can I keep this?"
"O-ok…kay," Zinn said, her smile widening into a toothy little grin.
"Talent, that is," Dru said as they made their way from the Great Hall. "You should see if Heather will enchant it to make it move, make the rotor bits spin."
"Does everyone here know how a helicopter works except for me?" Susan huffed.
"You need to get more familiar with the muggle world, you do," Ginny said. "They're fascinating. All the things they've done without magic."
"Listen to the muggle-lover," a disgusted voice spoke. "Ew, Mum said I'd run into blood-traitors, and I should have known it'd be a Weasley."
The four girls paused, Ginny shooting a sneer at a Slytherin girl with a pug-like face and an unfortunate bob haircut. Next to her stood a tall, reedy boy with curly black hair, and the two were flanked by a pair of large boys the approximate size, shape, and menace of a pair of gorillas. All four seemed to be on their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.
"Parkinson, who let you out in public?" Dru asked.
"I go where I please," Pansy Parkinson said loftily, peering back at Ginny with a look of disgust. "I'm surprised they let your sort in the school. Are you and those boys even housebroken?"
"Yes, but I've been known to bite from time to time," Ginny spat, clicking her teeth together in a grin. Next to her, Zinn squeaked out a tiny laugh, snorting and covering her mouth as Pansy glared at her.
"Zinnia Potter," she said. "Surely you don't have anything to add."
"She can't even talk," the gangly boy (Theodore Nott) cackled. "Puh-puh-puh…pweez don't muh-muh-make my cwy, Pwofessuh Suh-suh-Snape!"
The boys snickered, and Pansy shrieked with laughter. Next to Ginny, Zinn's face grew red, and she all but snarled as she lurched forward toward Nott, but Dru and Susan stopped her.
"Zinn, don't let him get to you," Dru cautioned the girl. "He's just trying to pick a fight."
"H-he'll…g-get one!" Zinn spat, though that only seemed to amuse the group of Slytherins more, as they continued to laugh and jeer at her stutter, imitating it as they made their way into the Great Hall. Ginny saw Zinn's eyes shining with tears of frustration, her face still red, and she gently placed a hand on the girl's shoulder.
"They're horrible," she said. Stamping her foot, Zinn frowned, turning to Ginny with a small huff. "Hey. They were really out of line."
"You shouldn't listen to a word they say, Zinn," Dru told her.
"Pansy Parkinson is terrible," Susan agreed.
Slowly, Ginny worked her arm around Zinn's shoulders. The smaller girl shrank a bit at the touch first, but she managed a little smile up at Ginny as she gave a small wiggle.
"Sorry, I thought maybe you'd like a hug," Ginny said, and Zinn hummed.
"H-hhhugs are…n-nice," she said, nestling into Ginny's side as she gave her a squeeze.
"Oh, she's too bloody cute," Dru muttered over the shorter girl's head. "It's just not fair."
…
"I wonder what they're all planning," Dru pondered later, as the girls sat around a table in the library. Nearby, an open window coaxed in a delightful summer breeze to render the whole process of writing a decent Transfiguration essay as unbearable as possible. While she was quoting textbooks and checking her spelling, all Ginny could think about was the Black Lake in the distance and how many different sorts of frogs surely lived there.
Maybe she could talk the girls into an expedition after they were done with their essays. Surely they didn't get many chances for a good outdoor frolic.
"Auntie Amelia made it sound like they would push it as fast as they could, but there's a lot of meetings and the like they need to hold first," Susan said. "I guess the Board of Governors needs to have a meeting where they decide something, and then they go to Auntie Amelia, and she says they should investigate, and then she has to decide who to send to investigate, and then – "
"I wasn't even listening from the start of all that, and I'm somehow listening even less," Dru yawned.
"Too right," Ginny said. "I could never work in the Ministry, it all sounds terribly boring."
"H-h…olding a m-m…meeting to d-d…decide when t…to hhhold th…the n…ext one," Zinn said.
"Probably," Ginny giggled. "'This meeting to decide when we're holding the next meeting is now called to order.'"
"Maybe they all just miss each other sometimes," Dru said with a grin. "Perkins hasn't seen his pal Robertson in a while, so he calls a meeting so they can catch up over drinks."
"D'you reckon they have snacks at the meetings?" Ginny asked.
"That's important," Susan said with a nod. "Unless it's something boring like cheese and crackers or cucumber sandwiches."
"I like cucumber sandwiches," Dru said.
"Ugh, I hate cream cheese," Ginny half-retched. "Mum makes this really good BLT for teatime."
"Now that sounds tasty," Susan said.
"M-m…making…me h-hhhungry," Zinn said with a grin.
"You just ate breakfast not two hours ago," Dru told her, and she stuck her tongue out.
"Y-you're the…one a-always tr…trying to f-fffatten…m-me up," she shot back. "W-won't b…b-b-be a…ab-ble to l-lift offff with m-my b…b…room."
Ginny grinned at the reminder that their flying lessons were coming in the next week. Of course, she and her brothers had a bit of experience; they didn't each have a broom, but Dad had talked Mum into purchasing four old Cleansweep Fives during a sale preceding the release of the new Seven model. Games of two-a-side quidditch were a staple of Weasley family summers, usually with Percy as the reluctant (but knowledgeable) referee.
"Can't wait to show off to you lot," she said with a grin, and Dru smirked right back.
"As if, Weasley," she said. "I'll be the one showing off. Only reason I don't have my Nimbus here is because firsties can't have brooms."
"I thought you didn't like quidditch," Ginny pointed out, and Dru waved a flippant hand.
"Doesn't mean I'm no good on a broom," she said.
"Well, you two can show off all you want," Susan insisted. "Better that than anyone see me falling on my bum the whole lesson."
"Sssame h…here," Zinn said. "N-not v…very fffair, m-m…making e-everyone f-f…ly to-together."
"Oh, you'll do great, Zinn," Dru insisted. "If you don't, I promise I'll catch you."
She scooped Zinn into her arms, cradling her like some action hero, and Zinn squawked out a giggle.
"L-leggo of me, you n-nutter!"
"D'you lot mind keeping it down?" a boy's voice spoke, and all four girls' heads turned to see a familiar face frowning at them from between the stacks.
"Hey, I remember you," Ginny said. "You were helping the one boy look for his rat."
It was the curly-haired boy from the train, the bossy Ravenclaw who had been looking for Trevor the rat. And, Ginny suddenly remembered, the one who had first discovered the three-headed dog guarding the trapdoor on the third-floor.
"Oi, wait, you're the one who found the dog," Dru said, clearly of the same mind. "The three-headed dog."
"Don't remind me," he said with a shudder, emerging from the shelves and ambling toward their table. "That was the most terrifying night of my life."
"But you have to tell us about it!" Dru insisted, patting the seat next to her. "Please?"
Oh, she was good, Ginny thought, fixing him with wide eyes and a small but charming smile. It was a technique Ginny was familiar with but had never mastered. Not that it would have worked on any of her brothers.
There was only one way to get what you wanted from a Weasley boy, and it was not for the faint-hearted.
For any other boy, it seemed Dru's approach (imparted no doubt by her sister, Dora) was the most effective, judging from the way Antony Granger's face went very slightly pink before he sat next to her with a longsuffering sigh. As he did, Dru slid her hand into her bag, pulling out a spiral notepad and a normal muggle pen.
"Can you describe it?" she asked. "The dog? How you felt at the time? How did you find it?"
"Is this an interview?" Antony asked with a frown.
"Yes," Dru said, pointing her pen at him. "For the Weekly Badger."
"Because you badger people with questions?"
"…I never really thought of it that way," Dru hummed thoughtfully. "I like that, though. Yes, I'm badgering you. C'mon, don't you think the people deserve to know about a big three-headed dog kept locked up in a school? Isn't that…well…"
"M-mad," Zinn pointed out.
"Stupid," Ginny added.
"Irresponsible," Susan nodded.
Glancing at each girl in turn, Ginny saw Antony's eyes linger on Zinn for a few seconds. They didn't exactly go straight to her scar, but it was clear he recognized her. When it went from a long look to a bit of a stare, Zinn made a small face at him, and his gaze darted away.
"Oh, alright," he sighed. "I suppose I've time for a little interview."
…
Antony Granger, they came to find out, was a muggle-born from Hampstead in London. His parents were dentists, which was one of the nuances of the muggle world that Ginny was still a bit unfamiliar with. Judging from Zinn's unpleasant shudder, however, nothing good came from visiting a dentist.
"Dentists provide a valuable service," Antony insisted. "They keep your teeth clean and orderly."
"Th…they p-p…poke and s-ssstick at y…your m-mouth," Zinn said with a small pout.
"That's part of the job," Antony said. "They have to make sure you're not getting cavities or gum disease."
"Why not just swish with Trippman's Tooth Tonic?" Susan asked. "Mum says you should make sure to, every morning and night."
"Well," Antony began, sounding miffed, "muggles don't have a quick and easy solution to proper dental hygiene. We have to brush our teeth."
"Brush?" Ginny asked. "Like your hair?"
"It's…rather like a very small hairbrush, yes," Antony said. "And you use – "
"Hold on," Dru said. "You said 'we' when you were talking about muggles."
"I—suppose I did," Antony said defensively. "I'm muggle-born."
"A muggle-born wizard," Dru said.
"That doesn't mean I'm just going to forget where I've come from," Antony huffed. "Muggles have a lot of interesting ideas that wizards could never dream of."
"Oh, I know," Dru shrugged. "My dad's muggle-born."
"…Oh," Antony said.
"But he says the best things happen when wizards learn to adapt muggle technology, not just use it," Dru said. "Like the Hogwarts Express. Or the wizarding wireless."
"There should be wizard TV," Ginny said.
"Th-there…should," Zinn said. "H-hhow h-have…w-wizards…n – "
"Not even figured out the telly, right?" Antony blurted, and Zinn's face scrunched up as the rest of the girls shot him matching glares. "…What?"
"She doesn't like when you finish her sentences for her," Susan told him.
"Well, I knew what she was about to say," Antony said.
"It's rude," Ginny shot back. "D'you like it when people interrupt you?"
"Well…" Antony trailed off, and Ginny could see his face going a bit red at their scrutiny before he turned to Zinn. "Um…sorry for interrupting you, Zinnia."
"Ap…pology a-a…accept-ted," Zinn told him with a little frown. "D-don't…l-let it…hhhap…pen ag…ain."
Ginny saw in Antony's face the restraint required not to finish Zinn's sentence for her; she couldn't help but appreciate the effort, at least. Okay, perhaps he wasn't so bad.
For a boy.
"So, do you ever stay in our common room with the Ravenpuffs?" Dru asked once the moment had passed. Antony scoffed, looking affronted at the notion.
"I've never been locked out of the common room by a riddle," he insisted. "I always manage to figure it out."
"We don't need to figure out a riddle just to get to our beds," Ginny said. "Hufflepuff has nothing to prove."
"My sister always said that anyone who needs to prove how smart they are is too fragile to even think otherwise," Dru said.
"A lot of the Ravenclaws we meet end up wishing they'd been sorted somewhere else," Susan pointed out.
"T…Terry B-B…Boot is…n-nice," Zinn said. "S-sssmart, just…h-h…has t…rouble w-with r…rid…dles sssomet…times."
"I'm…well, I'm not trying to say that those who can't get into the common room aren't smart," Antony said in huffy tones. He seemed about to say something else and then thought better of it, frowning down at the table. "How d'you get into your common room?"
"You know where it is?" Ginny asked. "Down near the kitchens? Two barrels from the left, you knock like this." She demonstrated the pattern. "Then that's it. You're in."
"Are you wanting to come visit us sometime?" Dru asked with a grin. "Have we already charmed you?"
"Hardly," Antony said loftily. "I've heard the Hufflepuff common room is rather a quiet and cozy study environment, is all. It might behoove me to visit."
"What's 'behoove' mean?" Susan asked quietly, and the girls all shrugged at her.
000
-ZINNIA-
It was with no small amount of trepidation (in fact, it was something more akin to paralyzing fear) that Zinn made her way down toward the dungeons for her second ever Potions lesson. Twice, she found herself freezing up, causing Zacharias Smith and Justin Finch-Fletchley to nearly collide with her from behind.
"You'll be okay, Zinn," Ginny whispered, gently pulling her along. "Professor Sprout said, didn't she? Just give it one more chance."
"Don't let him win," Dru urged her. "If you don't show up, he'll know he's gotten to you."
"H…he al…r-ready d-d-does," Zinn huffed. "N-no…ssssense r…r-rem…minding h…im." It was getting harder to speak the closer they got to the classroom, the nearer they drew to him. Her anxiety mounted, and by the time they were outside of the dungeon, she couldn't even squeak out so much as a sound.
Just as she felt that her heart couldn't possibly thud any harder in her chest—or her fingers could tighten any more around an unflinching Dru's arm—the door opened inward, and Snape appeared, stepping back to allow them all in. They filed past, and Zinn couldn't stop herself from glancing up into the man's dark eyes, glinting blackly as he peered over the first-years. When that hooded gaze found her, she flinched and squeezed Dru's arm, shooting her an apologetic look. Dru was focused, however, on the teacher, her beautiful features pinched into a glare at him. Snape, in turn, looked almost bored.
"Take your seats," he told them needlessly. What else were they to do? Zinn sat once more between Dru and Ginny, hunching in and wondering if she could just hide behind them the whole lesson.
At the front of the room, Snape once again waved his wand at the blackboard, where a set of instructions appeared. Regarding them all with what Zinn would call thinly-veiled contempt, he stood looking for all the world like the bad guy in one of Dudley's Saturday morning cartoons.
"Today's potion is a simple enough cold remedy," he said. "For many of you, this will be your first experience with a mortar and pestle. If you're too—unfamiliar with the process," he spoke in a way that had Zinn thinking there was another word he'd rather have been using, "consult page 67 of your textbooks. Get to work."
To Zinnia's surprise but dubious delight, Snape seemed quite content to leave her alone for the lesson. Of course, he prowled among the desks as he had last time—offering up the occasional biting criticism and leaving a student scrambling to correct a flub or misstep—but as the three girls were making sure to read and reread every step before proceeding, he had nothing to fixate on when he reached their table. In fact, if Zinn's eyes weren't deceiving her, he even seemed reluctantly impressed with their efforts. Still, he simply whirled away without comment.
By the time the end of the lesson rolled around and they were all turning in their phials, Zinn was even feeling a bit confident in her work, thinking she had to have at least managed an A.
"Well," Ginny said as they left the classroom, "that wasn't so awful, was it?"
"He didn't say a word," Susan said. "Not to you lot, at least."
"I heard Sprout had a real go at him," Hannah Abbott spoke up nearby. "They had it out in the headmaster's office, all the other heads of house were there. One of the headmistress portraits, the one of Phyllida Spore, was telling the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff in the common room."
"What did they say?" Dru asked.
"There was a lot of talk about Snape playing favorites with the Slytherins and treating everyone else terribly," Hannah said. "From what Spore said, it's been going on a while."
"Well, of course it has," Dru said with a roll of her eyes. "Dora says he's been like that since he started teaching. No one can figure why on earth he was even hired in the first place."
"Maybe Dumbledore secretly hates children," Ginny said. "I mean, don't forget the savage three-headed dog and 'painful death' bit."
"D…Dumb-ble…d-dore has a-always b…b-been b…ad n-news," Zinn spoke up. "D…does what hhhe w-wants, d-doesn't c-c-care what y-you…think."
"And that's gone on quite long enough, I should think," Dru said loftily, and Zinn felt the girl's arm thrown around her shoulders. Fighting a small flinch at the abrupt contact, she found herself instead settling into the friendly embrace, a small smile pulling at her lips.
She rather liked her friends.
…
With Snape at least treating her civilly enough not to berate her every moment she spent in his classroom, Zinn found Hogwarts to be quite enjoyable again. Still, she didn't get complacent; even the Dursleys had moments of tolerability, but such a thing did not equate to a change of heart. If necessary, she had no problems enacting what Biscuits had termed Operation Escape-Hatch.
One thing she had learned during her visit to Gringotts was that she had a considerable amount of money, and Biscuits had taught her well that money had a way of solving a remarkable number of problems.
For the moment, however, life at Hogwarts went on, and before she knew it, the dreaded flying lessons were upon them. The Hufflepuffs would be learning alongside the Ravenclaws, on a sunny Tuesday afternoon out in the courtyard. It was brisk, and in the distance, the barely-visible tops of the trees of the Forbidden Forest were beginning to redden as autumn descended upon the castle. Really, if nothing else, Zinn couldn't deny that the whole place was picturesque.
"Wonderful day to be in the air," Dru observed, inhaling as a light breeze drifted through. "Smell that fresh air."
"I've smelled fresher," Ginny shrugged, and Zinn snickered out a squawk of a laugh at that. Ginny playfully bumped her shoulder, though Zinn felt her smile droop a little as a round of snickers went up from a few of the Ravenclaws.
"She sounds like some mad chicken when she laughs," one girl muttered, to a shriek of laughter from the rest.
"And you lot sound like a bunch of crows!" Dru spat back.
"Oi, what did you say?" the girl huffed.
"Mandy, leave them be," Padma Patil said warningly. "Remember what Robert said about messing with Hufflepuff?"
"Besides, that's Zinnia Potter," Terry Boot grinned. "She's alright."
Mandy shot Zinn a mean look but said nothing more, likely not wanting to look the bully and probably quite aware that there were consequences to picking on a Hufflepuff. House solidarity was a hallmark to the badgers, most especially when it came to looking after the precious first-years. Already, a couple of Slytherin second years had run afoul of the 'Puffs after Ernie Macmillan had come back from a trip to the library sporting a swollen nose sustained from a Trip Jinx.
The details were a bit muddled, but Zinn knew that a there had been an excessive amount of dungbombs involved.
"Honestly, she's lucky Padma stopped her," Bill chuckled next to Zinn. "Ginny's been a bit too eager to practice her elbow-drop."
"It's getting far too rusty," Ginny grinned. "How's Ravenclaw, then?"
"Oh, they're a bunch of ponces," Bill said with a roll of his eyes. "Perce fits right in."
"Oi!" Percy said, giving his brother a small shove.
"C…could j…oin the R-Raven…p-puffs," Zinn suggested, and Bill smiled at her.
"I've been thinking about it," he said. "The riddles that thing comes up with are mad sometimes. I've had to have Percy bail me out a couple times already."
Percy said nothing, though he wore a smug smile. Zinn had a feeling there was a bit of truth to the remark about ponces.
They all grew quiet as a tall woman with short spiky hair in a gleaming shade of silver strode into their midst, rounding to peer down at them with owlish yellow eyes. She reminded Zinn strangely of Ollivander, and she wondered if they were related.
"Good afternoon, first-years," she said. They all chorused a greeting back to her. "Welcome to your first flying lesson." She gestured to the middle of the courtyard, where two rows of brooms had been placed on the grass. "I'll have each of you stand next to a broom, to the left, if you please."
They all moved to take their places, some much more eagerly than others. Zinn was urged along by Ginny and Dru, though they at least didn't physically drag her. Ginny had done so once—when the three had nearly been late for Charms—and Zinn had frozen up, reminded for a horrible moment of Uncle Vernon's fat hand yanking her back to the cupboard. Ginny had apologized profusely (the poor thing had been near tears), but Zinn had assured her that there had been no way she could have known that that would have set Zinn off.
Zinn hadn't even known.
She kept waiting for the moment when her oddness became too much for the two girls. Sometimes, in her bleaker moments, she couldn't help but think that it was only a matter of time before they grew tired of waiting on her stutter, exasperated at having to watch themselves so constantly around her. No pointing, no grabbing, no shouting, you'll scare poor Zinnia. But, she reminded herself, Biscuits had spent months in her company, and never had she so much as let an impatient scoff at Zinn. Well, she'd grown impatient, but usually over her pickiness about Indian food or her odd penchant for painting portraits of Biscuits herself.
How could she not want to capture such an inspirational subject?
Perhaps Ginny and Dru were cut from the same cloth as Biscuits, were similarly infinitely patient and welcoming. It certainly seemed that way so far.
"Zinn?" Dru spoke, and Zinn snapped from her thoughts. Madame Hooch had said something, but she hadn't heard. Around them, the others all had their hands held over their brooms and were shouting "Up!" to varied results. A few brooms seemed to hop from the ground, while some didn't move at all. On either side of Zinn, Ginny and Dru each got theirs to hop into their hands on the first try.
Zinn thought it all seemed like a lot of trouble to go through when it would have been just as easy to pick the thing up.
"Why not just pick it up?" Susan asked, echoing her thoughts.
"Dora told me once that this part of the lesson is so Hooch knows which students to keep an eye on," Dru said. "If the broom hops right to you, she knows you at least won't break your neck. If not…"
"…Up!" Susan said, her broom feebly rolling over. Nearby Madame Hooch watched with a small sigh. "Well, at least I know she's prepared for disappointment."
"Try it, Zinn," Ginny said with a smile, and Zinn sighed. Mustering what she could, she managed to blurt out that one syllable without even a halt in her speech, which she was proud of.
"Up!"
The broom jumped into her hand, with enough force that it jolted her wrist ever so slightly. Wobbling, she held onto it with a dubious look to the other girls, who grinned back at her.
"Look at that!" Dru said.
"Not bad!" Ginny nodded.
Madame Hooch walked them through the steps of mounting their brooms, and Zinn was soon nervously clutching hers as their instructor counted down. They were to take off and hover for a bit before landing, simple enough.
Well, in theory.
"Three…two…one!"
She blew her whistle, and Zinn kicked her foot as hard as she could, the broom whisking her into the air.
It was the most indescribable sensation Zinn had ever felt. A tension she hadn't even known she'd been carrying her whole life—a claw of apprehension, of anxiety gripped around her center—released in one massive rush, like her whole body was exhaling a breath it had been holding for much too long. Perhaps the broom was moving too fast for all of the badness to catch up to her, or perhaps it simply couldn't follow her into the air—either way, one thing was unequivocally true.
Zinn loved to fly.
She soared upward, banking to a halt and simply relishing in the feeling of flight, of being in the air and looking down at the world sprawled below her. Somehow, she knew innately how to steer and handle the broom, what miniscule movements were needed to guide it just so. Without really thinking of it, she pulled in a little circle, perhaps unnecessarily adding a bit of a barrel roll before Madame Hooch's whistle sounded in her ear.
"Miss Potter! No showboating!"
Sheepishly, she realized that she was lagging behind while everyone else landed below, and she dipped her broom back to the ground as well, pulling up and dismounting in a little jog to stop before the professor.
"Sorry, ma'am, I was just having a little fun," she said.
Madame Hooch's stern expression melted into one of shock, and Zinn heard Dru gasp behind her.
"Zinn! You—you didn't stutter!" she said, and Zinn blinked several times as the realization struck her. She hadn't stuttered. Free of that anxious grip that had left her behind on her broom, the words had flowed so easily, unchoked and without even a stumble.
"Try to keep to my instructions," Madame Hooch cautioned her gently. "Everyone, positions! We're now going to practice the banking turn!"
Madame Hooch kept them at it for about half an hour, taking them through basic navigation and broom safety procedures. Zinn paid attention as best as she was able, but she was much too eager to take off each time, to feel that lovely and amazing weightlessness once more, to feel the profound relief of that claw losing its grasp on her as she zipped away from it.
Every time she took to the air was as perfect as the first.
Soon, they landed for the last time, and Zinn reluctantly left her broom with the others, glancing up at a smiling Ginny and Dru.
"That was a blast, wasn't it?" Dru asked. "Zinn, you're a natural!"
"You did so well!" Ginny gushed. "I've never seen someone take so quickly to flying!"
"It was so much fun," Zinn breathed, feeling a pang of reluctance as they left the courtyard and passed back into the castle. Already, she could feel the familiar grasp retaking itself on her words, clutching at them and ensuring a struggle to muster forth so much as one coherent sentence. "I wish w-we could have our o-own brooms."
"You should ask Ced if you can borrow his sometime," Ginny told her. "I bet he'd let you."
"Especially if you bat your eyelashes at him and – " Dru broke off as Zinn gave her a little shove, giggling. "So, why does flying make you not struggle with your words?"
"I d-don't know," Zinn said, sighing. "Doesn't l-last long d-does it?"
"Still, it's not as bad right now," Ginny pointed out. "Just fly a broom from class to class and you'll be aces."
"That's a lovely plan," Dru nodded. "That can't possibly go wrong at all."
Zinn giggled at that, prompting Dru to stick her tongue out before nudging Zinn with her shoulder to steer her toward the Hufflepuff table. "C'mon, I'm starving."
"A-all that s…sssitting on a b…b…room r-really t-t…takes it o-out of…you," Zinn said, and Drue snickered at her.
"It does!"
It's a bit saccharine, I'll admit, though I've tried to show that not everyone treats Zinn so kindly as her friends. Rather, she has a close support circle that keeps the unpleasantness at bay.