Chapter 7
Hermione's First Real Flight
A few days had passed before Harry and Hermione managed to catch Hagrid at his hut after classes, but the conversation was getting off to a good start, thought Harry.
What he was telling Hagrid was more or less true—it was just missing a bit of information—well, maybe more than just a bit of information (which Harry couldn't help feeling guilty about). With a bit of luck, Hagrid might have some suspicions, but let them slide anyway. Harry and Hermione were sitting with him around the massive oak table in the middle of his hut, drinking tea and gnawing on his home made rock cakes (which were aptly named), while Fang lay at their feet.
"Erm…" Harry began, innocently enough, trying to steer the conversation in the right direction after some pleasantries had been exchanged (including a less than pleasant report on Snape's latest outbursts), hoping that he sounded casual. "Anyway, the other day, Hermione was—I mean, I...er... we were reading about some magical creatures which we read about in school when we were muggles—erm—I mean, before we found out that we're really wizards—well, before Hermione found out that she was a witch and before I f—"
Hermione rolled her eyes impatiently, and took charge of the surreptitious interrogation.
"We found some magical creatures that muggles know about but think are myths in a book we're reading," she said, cutting across Harry's babbling. "Not just obvious ones like Dragons and Unicorns, but also ones like Basilisks and Chimaera and Hippogriffs and Sphinxes—"
"—but there were some we couldn't find—like Gorgons," said Harry, jumping in, feeling less awkward about finessing the truth now that Hermione had got things going properly, "We couldn't find three-headed dogs either. … You know—like that Greek one which guarded Hades, Cerberus—I'm not sure what their proper species name is…"
"Oh, well, the Gorgons're wiped out as far as we know, killed off back in ancient times, see?" said Hagrid wistfully, adding another splash of brandy to his tea. "So yeh probably won' find 'em in the same books abou' creatures that're still around today—"
"Of course!" Hermione blurted out, smacking her forehead with one hand. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Nobody's perfect," said Harry, grinning.
Hermione glared at him and swatted his shoulder; Hagrid chuckled, then carried on with his little lesson as any amiable professor might.
"As ter three-headed dogs—they're all called Cerberuses as far as I know, bu' they're nearly all wiped out too. Mos' folk haven' come across any in centuries, so all o' them Magizoologist types think they're prob'ly extinct. ..." Hagrid chuckled again. "They'd be mighty surprised ter meet Fluffy. Got him from a Greek chappie, I did—some time last year in th' Hog's Head…"
Hagrid paused and a deep furrow formed between his bushy eyebrows. He eyed Harry and Hermione warily.
"Hang on a sec—you two haven' been snoopin' around the third floor, have yeh?"
Hermione squeaked and her cheeks turned crimson. Harry gulped and shot Hagrid an apologetic look.
"I… er, I… Yeah! … It wasn't Hermione's idea though—I made her come along—"
"Don't, Harry! That's not true—that's really sweet, but you don't have to protect me," said Hermione earnestly. "I helped Harry plan it out and everything," she told Hagrid. "I wanted to help him find out what the Cerberus is guarding—we think it might be something Voldemort could use to come back—"
Hagrid winced, and the dainty teacup shattered in his gigantic hand.
"Blimey, Hermione!" he said, wiping his hand with a flowery linen tea-towel. "Yeh gotta give a bloke a bit o' warnin' before yeh say 'is name. An' what're yeh on abou' him for anyway? What's he got ter do with the Philosopher's Stone?"
Hermione's jaw dropped and her eyes turned into saucers. Hagrid groaned and clapped both of his enormous hands to his face.
"Shouldn've said that," he mumbled from behind his hands.
"That's what Fluffy's guarding?" said Harry, leaning forward, eager to find out more. "What's the Philosopher's Stone?"
"It's a magical stone which can be used to turn things into gold or create an elixir of immortality," said Hermione excitedly. "Alchemists have been trying to replicate it for centuries."
"Wait a minute," Harry's eyes widened, "I remember now! Nicolas Flamel—he's the only wizard known to have created one, isn't he?"
"Yeh know about Nicolas Flamel too?" moaned Hagrid, who was still hiding his face.
"Yeah! He's on one of the chocolate frog cards," said Harry. "I just didn't remember until Hermione reminded me right now."
"Yeh're not even supposed ter know about it at all," Hagrid grumbled, lowering his hands. "So you two oughta jus' forget 'bout it."
"We can't forget about it!" squealed Hermione. "Not if Vol… You-Know-Who is trying to steal it and come back to finish off Harry."
"Whoa, whoa! Hold on now," said Hagrid. "Back up a bi'. Yeah, Dumbledore's protectin' it from thieves, but he never said anything ter me 'bout You-Know-Who."
"Maybe he doesn't know," said Harry. "Or maybe he doesn't want anyone else to know that he knows. He might suspect one of the professors are going to steal it for… er, You-Know-Who, and doesn't want to tip them off. It could be Snape—"
"—or Quirrell," chimed in Hermione.
Hagrid stroked his bristly beard, looking rather unnerved.
"Now, tha' doesn't seem very likely," he muttered. "Snape's one o' the ones tryin' ter protect the Stone."
"And Quirrell?" said Hermione, giving Hagrid a hard stare.
"Well…" Hagrid shuffled awkwardly. "I don' like ter be rude about a professor, but I can' really say he's got the, er... talent ter be very helpful protectin' much. Not that I can talk much, mind you—never quite finishin' school an' all meself. Anyway, it doesn' really make any difference. You-Know-Who wouldn' dare break inter Hogwarts and steal it while Dumbledore's in charge. … The Stone's perfec'ly safe, and so's Harry, so you two should just leave it alone fer the time bein'."
Harry deflated, knowing from Hagrid's tone that they were unlikely to get any more information out of him, but Hermione opened her mouth to object some more.
"Look," said Hagrid gruffly, cutting her off. "I've said too much already. Whatever's goin' on, Dumbledore's got everything under control, okay?"
Disappointed, Harry and Hermione trudged back up the hill to the castle with a bagful of rock cakes which Hagrid had given them to show there were no hard feelings.
"Fluffy?" said Harry, shaking his head in amazement as they neared the front doors. "That's not what I would've called that monster—he reminds me more of Ripper, one of Aunt Marge's dogs—he bit me once. Fluffy is a cat name—Mrs. Figg had an Angora cat named Fluffy—"
"Oh, I love cats," said Hermione.
Harry filed that piece of information away in the back of his mind for later.
~o0o~
For the next few weeks Harry and Hermione continued to keep an eye on Snape and Quirrell. Harry's scar was sore all the time now—it seemed to twinge a bit more around Professor Quirrell, but he couldn't really be sure. In any case, despite her suspicions about Quirrell, Hermione had definitely come to agree that Snape was more likely to be in Voldemort's employ. And both of them had put what they had seen in the Mirror of Erised out of their mind.
They still had flying lessons on Thursdays. Hermione had managed to hover about three feet above the ground and slowly circle the lawn during the lesson which had followed her birthday, which was as high as she was willing to go. Harry, on the other hand, had taken to flight like an eagle, as if he were born to fly, much to Malfoy's chagrin, who had been grounded for their second lesson.
This week, Madam Hooch was teaching them all about Quidditch, and nearly every student who had grown up in the Wizard World was obsessed with it. Malfoy—who had finally been allowed back on a broom—was insufferably smug, boasting about his prowess to everyone in earshot.
"If first years were allowed to bring their own brooms, I think I'd try out for Seeker," he drawled after Madam Hooch told them that try-outs for the Quidditch teams were coming up on the weekend. "It's not really worth it on these rubbish school brooms."
Ron snorted and muttered to Neville under his breath, "I bet he couldn't catch a Snitch if it flew out of his arse. But if he tries out for Slytherin, I'm gonna try out for the Gryffindor team."
Neville simply shrugged in response. He had finally managed to get his broom under control, but he was flying even lower to the ground than Hermione had during their second lesson, hovering barely a foot above the ground. It was highly unlikely that he would ever consider trying out for the Gryffindor team.
For her part, Hermione was feeling braver after several lessons, and was now flying at least seven or eight feet off the ground, gradually picking up speed.
Harry had to begrudgingly admit that Malfoy was a good flier, even if the school brooms were rubbish, and wondered if it was worth trying out himself. So far, besides Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms, flying had quickly become his favourite activity.
"Right then," barked Madam Hooch, "Now that you've got the basic idea, any of you who are confident enough to get more than a few feet off the ground…" She shot a look at Neville, Hermione, and Susan Bones—a Hufflepuff—who all reddened. "...can give it a go, if you wish.
"No Bludgers…" Madam Hooch narrowed her eyes at Crabbe and Goyle who both deflated and grumbled under their breaths. "...If you want a go at Beating, team try-outs will be this weekend. For today, if you want to test your abilities and see if you like it, line up along the wall. The rest of you can either watch from the stands, or fly around a bit, as long as you stay in sight of the Quidditch pitch."
"I think I'm going to have a go at this," Harry eagerly said to Hermione, "You sure you don't want to try? You're doing loads better than you think you are."
"I think I'll just watch from the stands," said Hermione.
"Come and fly with us," said Parvati. "Lavender and I are just going to fly around outside the pitch for a bit."
"Erm… I don't know..." Hermione anxiously glanced at Harry, who raised his eyebrows at her.
"Come on, Hermione," Lavender pleaded. "We won't go too high, if you don't want to."
"And you'll still be able to see Harry play," said Parvati with a perceptive little smile.
Hermione chewed her lower lip for a moment, conflicted, then took a deep breath.
"All right, then," she said, nodding.
Hermione gave Harry a nervous grin, then followed Parvati and Lavender out through the entrance of the Quidditch pitch. Neville followed Susan Bones and Susan's friend, Hannah Abbott, into the stands.
"Right, you lot," said Madam Hooch to everyone who remained on the pitch, "If you want to try your hand at being a Chaser, just grab a Quaffle from the box—there are plenty to go around. If you want to have a go at Keeping, just hang out by the hoops. The rest of you just hover above, and I'll release a Snitch once everyone is ready.
"Those hoops over there are for Chasers who just want to practice throwing without interference, and the other three are for those who want a bit of challenge—that is, if any of the Keepers are up to the task." A little smile briefly hovered at the corner of Madam Hooch's lips, then she continued.
"You can all switch up and try a different position at your own discretion. Now don't forget, this isn't a competition—it's just practice. If I see any excessive grandstanding I'll have you grounded until team try outs—you can show off then. And any attempts to sabotage the other players will have you grounded until next year."
And then they were off, a number of students snatching up Quaffles. Harry briefly considered grabbing one himself, then decided he didn't want to be encumbered by holding onto a ball. He just wanted to fly, and he reckoned he could always have a go with a Quaffle later if he wanted to.
Harry soared up into the sky amidst the flock of students on brooms. And waited until everyone had sorted themselves out. Dean and Seamus waited with Harry, both of them more interested in having a go at the Snitch. Ron was hovering near one of the hoops, grinning. He gave Harry, Seamus, and Dean a thumbs up.
The only other Gryffindor in the air within the pitch was a girl with chestnut hair named Sally-Anne Perks. The other girl from Hermione's dorm—Sophie Roper, a small girl with ash-blonde hair—was sitting in the stands near Neville and the two Hufflepuff girls. Sophie beamed and waved excitedly at Sally-Anne, making her blush.
"Now we'll find out what you're really made of, Potter, besides a bit of dirty blood," said Malfoy, who was hovering barely more than a few metres away. "You need razor sharp eyesight to spot a Snitch, and you won't be able to see much if your glasses fall off," he added suggestively, smirking.
"Why don't you come a bit closer and find out?" Harry retorted. "Oh, right—you don't want to lose your flying privileges for a whole year."
He had already considered whether it was worth it to even bother having a crack at Seeker after having decided not to have a go at Chasing, or whether he should just go and fly with Hermione, but he wasn't particularly worried. Harry's glasses had never fallen off when he was running away from Dudley and his gang. They had only fallen off whenever Dudley had got close enough to punch him on the nose.
Malfoy's smirk turned into a scowl.
"Might be worth it, seeing as the school brooms are all rubbish anyway," he sneered.
In that moment, Harry had the exact same instinct as Ron. If Malfoy actually ended up trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team, he would try for the Gryffindor team too. And then he heard Madam Hooch's whistle, the signal that she had released the Snitch…
~o0o~
Hermione's bushy hair billowed in the wind rushing by her as she sped up a bit to keep pace with Lavender and Parvati, one of them on each side of her. True to their word, they had stuck fairly close to the ground at first, then gradually picked up height.
As long as she didn't look straight down, Hermione began to feel more at ease. They were already over twice as high as she had been at the beginning of the lesson. She just hoped she didn't lose her nerve before she got high enough to watch Harry play. That's when she heard some cheering and laughing on the other side of the stands. Forgetting about being anxious, she soared up another 30 feet to see what was going on.
When Hermione and Lavender and Parvati reached the top of the stands, they saw Crabbe and Goyle laid out on the pitch, atop each other and groaning, splinters of broken broom strewn all around them. Apparently they had crashed into each other.
Lavender and Parvati began giggling, but Hermione couldn't help herself.
"Oh no!" she said. "I hope they aren't hurt."
Lavender rolled her eyes. "Really, Hermione?"
"Well, if it was Harry I would be a lot more upset," Hermione said defensively.
"Fair enough," said Parvati with a shake of her head and another knowing little smile. "Seeing as we're up here now, we can watch properly while we fly around the pitch."
Hermione was suddenly aware that they were well above 50 feet from the ground. She gulped and looked straight down, which was a bad idea. She felt a wave of vertigo and began to wobble. Parvati and Lavender were at her side in an instant, and grabbed her.
"Just breathe, Hermione," said Lavender. "Deep breaths!"
"Just think of Harry," said Parvati. "You made it up this high without even thinking about the ground, just to see Harry fly."
Hermione nodded. She took several deep breaths and looked for Harry instead of at the ground directly below her. As her anxiety ebbed, her broom stabilised.
"You can let go—I'm all right now," she said after a few more seconds passed, then she beamed at Lavender and Parvati. "Thank you!"
As the three young witches circled the stadium, watching the practice, Hermione began to truly enjoy herself, nervousness replaced by an exhilarating sense of freedom and a surge of confidence. It was amazing what magic could do. Never in her life had she imagined flying without an aeroplane and an experienced pilot in charge.
Hermione's eyes mostly tracked Harry as he zipped past a group of Ravenclaws jockeying for position, Malfoy hot on his tail. She spotted the glint of gold which had caught the attention of the Seekers. Two of the Ravenclaws nearly crashed into each other in their eagerness to catch up to Malfoy and Harry.
She was distracted by a loud gasp from Lavender.
"Wow!" said Lavender, "He's amazing! … Ron's blocked five throws in row."
Parvati nodded. Despite herself, and her dislike of Ron, Hermione was suitably impressed when he saved two more goals. Then she peered back at the scrum of Seekers who seemed to have lost sight of the Snitch. Suddenly she saw Harry go into a spiralling nosedive, and shrieked.
"NO!"
Lavender and Parvati whipped their brooms around to see what was going on, and then all three girls gasped. Harry pulled up at the very last minute, barely two metres from the ground, soaring at breakneck speed past several Slytherins and Ravenclaws who were looking in the wrong direction, and plucked something out of the air.
The Snitch! Harry had the Snitch.
They heard a scream and looked back down at the pitch. Draco, who had still been marking Harry, hadn't been able to pull up in time, and was lying in a crumpled heap on the lawn. Everyone swooped down from the sky, including Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati, and settled on the pitch as Madam Hooch ran to Malfoy's side.
Even Harry looked concerned and anxious when Madam Hooch knelt down and began giving Malfoy—who was still howling—a once over, looking for any obvious injuries.
"Let's see—any broken bones then?" she muttered, waving her wand when Malfoy whimpered. "No broken bones, no concussion," she said, rising to her feet. "You'll have a whopping bruise or two, but you'll be perfectly fine after a visit to Madam Pomfrey for a Pain Potion when you've got your wind back."
"B-b-but, Potter," Malfoy moaned. "He sabotaged me! He tricked me into crashing. Y-you should ban him from flying."
"Nonsense!" said Madam Hooch sharply. "You should know a Wronski Feint when you see one, Mr Malfoy." She turned to look at Harry, who was grinning now that it seemed like he wasn't going to get in trouble and that Malfoy wasn't seriously injured.
"My word, Mr Potter. That was a remarkable bit of flying and display of tactical skills. Are you sure you've never played Quidditch before?"
"No! Never—I was raised by muggles. I was just tired of Malfoy following me instead of looking for the Snitch on his own."
"It… it was the broom then," said Malfoy angrily, scrambling to his feet. "The school broom was defective. My father will hear about this…"
Several Slytherins rolled their eyes at Draco's familiar refrain. Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean, and some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, all began laughing.
"Now you're just being ridiculous!" Madam Hooch snapped. "You had the best broom in the stable—better than Potter's by far. You didn't think I didn't notice you slipping Mr Zabini five galleons for the broom he had chosen today, did you? You're just lucky that there are no rules to prevent you from doing so. … Now shoo—go to Madam Pomfrey and get a Pain Potion."
She watched Malfoy staggering up the hill to the castle with Crabbe and Goyle, then turned back to the rest of the students, catching Ron's eye.
"Well done, too, Mr Weasley. You and Mr Potter should consider trying out for the Gryffindor team."
"Yeah," Neville agreed as everyone turned in their brooms and began filing out of the stadium. "That was brilliant, Ron! You should try out for the team."
"You know, I think I will," said Ron after a moment's hesitation. "Fred and George are on the team, but maybe they won't heckle me too much if I do well at the try-outs."
"What about you, Harry?" asked Neville. "You should join the team too. That was smashing!"
"He's right," said Seamus. "That was nice bit of flying."
Harry glanced at Hermione, who beamed at him and shrugged.
"Maybe you should," she said. "You scared me half to death, but you were amazing, Harry!"
The rest of the girls in Hermione's dorm all eagerly indicated their agreement. Harry chewed his lower lip thoughtfully until they reached the front doors of the castle. Finally he spoke.
"If it looks like Malfoy is going to join the Slytherin team, I will, but otherwise I'll have to think about it a bit until after I've seen the practice schedule."
~o0o~
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Harry met Hermione in the common room and they headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.
"Really, Harry," said Hermione, when they reached the main staircase, "You shouldn't pass up an opportunity to do something you love and are good at."
"Well, that's the thing," said Harry, "What I really love is flying—catching the Snitch was just a bonus because it annoyed Malfoy, and I'm honestly not all that keen at getting loads of attention. Not to mention…"
Harry hesitated, and then he decided to just say it, his cheeks growing hot.
"...Not to mention, when I saw you finally flying up high above the stands, I thought it would be nicer to fly with you on our time off, rather than spending all my off-time practising with the team. Between practice, and homework, I'm not sure if I'd have enough time to just hang out with you and have fun."
Hermione gaped at Harry, blushing furiously. That was the last thing she had expected Harry to say, and she wasn't sure how to respond. She was far too embarrassed to act on her immediate instinct, and she knew that Harry would be too if she did.
Instead, she glanced around to make sure that no one was paying too much attention, then threw her arms around him, whispering in his ear, "That's very sweet of you, Harry. Thank you." Then she let go of him and said louder, "But if Malfoy does decide to join the Slytherin team, I'll support you all the way if you want to join the Gryffindor team."