September 20, 2015
Rory sat in the stands of the quidditch pitch, slouched over her potions textbook. Her hands were still shaking from the History of Magic and Transfiguration exams she had aced that morning, but she squinted at her books nonetheless. Afterall, her Potions exam was tomorrow morning, and she still felt uncomfortable with the preparation theory for some of the first year ingredients.
After her exams that morning, Rory had intended to study in the library; it was a Sunday and therefore, the library should have been empty. However, when Rory finally entered the library, it was packed with the entirety of Ravenclaw house, and the only seat open was the noisy one next to the door. Rory knew that the door traffic would too often distract her from her studies, so she abandoned the library for the top row of the quidditch stands. She tried to convince herself that she sat by the field because natural lighting helped her read efficiently and fresh air kept the mind active, but in reality, she was sick of sitting inside all day, and she was just as distracted as she would have been in the library.
As she flipped to a page in her Potions textbook that discussed dittany, she heard yelling from the pitch below. She peered over the top of her book to see a boy in green quidditch robes rolling around on the ground. She wondered what made him fall. Was he okay?
Focus! She scolded herself. You have an exam tomorrow! Get back to work!
She snapped her eyes back onto the open page of her textbook.
Dittany is a magical healing herb and restorative, Rory read. Its use makes fresh skin grow over a wound, and after application, the wound seems—
CRASH!
Rory jumped from the sound of another green-clad teen rolling into the base of the stands. What are they doing? she wondered. She looked upwards at the other team members. They hovered high in the sky, even higher than the Astronomy Tower. In turn, each member dove towards the ground, reaching maximum speed before attempting to fly up at the last second. However, every time the teammates jerked their broomsticks suddenly upward, they spun wildly out of control and fell to the ground.
Rory stared at them for a few minutes, trying to understand the drill. It bothered her to no end. She could not figure out what force should have allowed them to change direction so quickly. Their brooms never touched the ground, so there was no normal force changing the broom's direction. Rory saw no rustle of grass beneath the quidditch players as they entered an upwards arc, so Rory ruled out the brooms exerting a gust of air to use air resistance to its advantage. Rory thought that maybe broomsticks ionized the air underneath it and hovered that way, but she decided that such behavior would be extremely energy inefficient. She shook her head. It was times like these that she thought magic was really stupid. How dare it defy her knowledge of physics!
Rory snapped her eyes back down to the textbook in front of her, holding the book higher in front of her face to hide from the distractions flying in front of her. To prepare dittany, rip its leaves into small bits. Then, use a mortar and pestle to crush leaves into a paste before—
"AHHHHH" came a familiar yell as another member of the team dove toward the ground, attempted to jerk the broom upward, and spun wildly out of control. Rory's eyes trailed the sandy-haired boy as she thought.
Rory might not understand what force was allowing the broomstick to change direction—perhaps magic was its own force— but she did understand that the way the team members flew did not reflect an understanding of the conservation of momentum. If the team members were to maintain control of their broom, they should extend their arms at the bottom of the dive to store extra momentum. When they changed direction, they could pull their arms back to their bodies to use that extra momentum gain speed.
Rory blinked at the sandy-haired boy who was returning her gaze. It was Nate.
Quick, look at your book! she commanded herself. Remember what happened last time you interacted with him?
Rory thought back to two days ago, when she had approached Nate in the Great Hall to thank him for lending her a broom. Instead of accepting her thanks, he dismissed her, pretended he didn't know what she was thanking him for. His friends answered Rory with glares and insults.
Rory huffed and turned in her textbook to the section about the preparation of lionfish spines.
Lionfish are sea creatures that have extremely long and separated spines. They have healing properties and thus are used in healing potions such as—
"Rory!" sounded Nate's voice. Rory ignored it, her anger and confusion from a few days ago now fresh in her mind. She wouldn't know what to say to him even if she wanted to to talk to him. And she did not want to talk to him.
Used in healing potions such as the Wiggenweld Potion. It is also used in magical herbicides. To prepare lionfish spines—
"Rory, what are you doing at the Slytherin quidditch practice? Are you spying?" Nate's voice was lighthearted and teasing. Rory frowned at her textbook. She couldn't keep up. Around his green-robed buddies, he always glared at her in disgust, but now that Rory wasn't wearing the week-day red uniform, he thought he could openly tease her?
Rory was not okay with this turnaround, so she glared at the page of her textbook. To prepare lionfish spines, crush them into a powder with a mortar and pestle. An inch of lionfish spine should produce seven ounces of—
"Hey, whatcha doin' here, Ror?" he asked, more serious now. Since when did he decide that it was okay to call her by a nickname?
Rory shrugged. "Studying," she muttered, refusing to glance up from her book.
"Nate, why aren't you practicing?" asked a higher voice Rory did not recognize. Rory glanced up at the girl hovering slightly above Nate. She had long, silver hair that matched the captain's badge on her green quidditch robes. "What's she doing here?" she sneered. "She better not be a lousy Gryffindor." The girl turned to glare at Rory. "If you are here to spy on us, you need to leave."
Ugh not the stupid house thing again, thought Rory. I just need somewhere to study! Why can't that be here?"
Nate opened his mouth as if to respond that yes, Rory was a lousy Gryffindor here to spy on the enemy team, but Rory cut him off before he put her study space at jeopardy.
"I think I know how to help your players stop crashing," said Rory.
Both Nate's and the captain's eyebrows shot upwards. Neither spoke for a minute, until finally the captain broke the silence by accusing, "how do I know that you're trying to sabotage the team?"
Rory shrugged. "I just want to study. How about this: if what I say hurts the team, I'll leave. Else, I reserve the right to study here."
The captain thought for a minute. Eventually, she declared that yes, the deal was fair, and she summoned the rest of the team toward the bleachers. Rory shoved her textbook into her rucksack and approached the side of the front of the stands. She gulped. She hadn't exactly planned what to say.
When all seven team members hovered in front of the bleachers, Rory closed her eyes and took a deep breath, summoning her Gryffindor side. She should not appear nervous in front of a whole team of students from the enemy house. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat.
"At the bottom of your dives, you're not controlling your momentum effectively," she shouted.
"You don't say," mumbled one of the team members.
"Get to the point," muttered another. Rory glared. The team members were rather rude.
"Our what?" asked the captain.
"You know, momentum? They physical quantity of a moving object that is expressed by the product of the object's mass and velocity?"
Her explanation was met with blank stares.
She shifted on her feet and decided to abandon the physics vocabulary. "When you reach the bottom of your dive, you need to spread out your arms," she said. "You can bring them back in after you have finished changing direction. You will have more control and you'll end up flying faster than before."
A team member with messy dark hair scoffed. "Why should we trust you?" he sneered. "Are you even in Slytherin?"
Rory just shrugged and responded, "just try it," before returning to her seat in the top row of the stands. She retrieved her textbook from her bag and opened it to a page about horklump Juice. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched the team, praying to Merlin that they would correctly employ her advice and let her study undisturbed.
"I'll go first," Nate yelled to the team captain. He entered the dive, speeding straight down until he was a meter from the ground. As he jerked the broom upwards, he spread his arms. After righting himself, he drew in his arms and zoomed toward the far end of the field. Rory saw the captain nodded approvingly at him before Rory drew her focus back to her textbook.
A horklump is a magical creature that resembles a mushroom. Its juice is used in various healing potions such as...
Rory yawned as the splintered green door to Broom Closet 2 creaked open. As she returned Nate's broom to its holder beneath the post-it note. She lazily glanced at the note. It had not changed since she scrawled her thanks. Rory shrugged and swung the door shut.
Rory trudged up the stairs of the Hogwarts entrance, exhaustion soaking each painstaking step. The only thought that kept her climbing the stairs and weaving through the labyrinth of the Hogwarts corridors was the image of her fluffy red bed that awaited her in Gryffindor Tower. She really needed sleep. All of her energy had been completely spent of her two exams, intense afternoon studying, and learning to fly. If it weren't for her Potions exam tomorrow, Rory guessed that she could sleep all day. Sadly, she had her exam the next morning, so she could only afford nine hours of sleep.
When Rory, eyed half closed, finally reached the portrait guarding Gryffindor Tower, she muttered "flibbertigibbet."
The portrait swung open and exclaimed, "finally! I've been waiting for hours!"
Rory blinked. Since when did the portrait wait for her? Since when did it talk to her? "Excuse me?" asked Rory.
"I haven't done my Arithmancy homework yet! I'm totally doomed! You need to help me," demanded the portrait.
Rory blinked again. Since when does the portrait have Arithmancy homework? she wondered, half asleep.
Then, from behind the open portrait, Isla emerged.
Rory sighed. "I'm going to sleep," she stated. Rory stepped toward the entrance to the common room. Isla pouted, staring at Rory with wide, puppy-dog eyes that wrenched at Rory's heart. If Rory were honest with herself, she had to admit that Isla was not that bad. Sure, she was too peppy, and she bounced way too much, but she was a loyal study partner. And Rory was starving for friends. She could not justify abandoning the girl in crisis. "I guess just this once, I can help you," conceded Rory. A wide, sparkling smile instantly plastered Isla's face. The girl started bouncing on the balls of her feet and squealed "thank you!"
Rory shook her head. "Only for an hour," she amended.
Isla nodded and followed Rory into the common room. The two girls planted themselves on the red, leather sofa and spread their Arithmancy books on the adjacent redwood coffee table.
Three hours and infinite frustration later, Rory's head finally hit her pillow as her thoughts faded into nothingness.
