Chapter 5
Broomsticks and Magic

It turned out that their first lesson was Herbology, in Greenhouse One, on the other side of the Castle. James and Matthew burst through the door, five minutes late, just as Professor Longbottom was going through the register.

'James—' he said, looking down his list, 'and Matthew Reed. You got lost, I take it?'

James nodded mutely.

'Not to worry. Take a seat next to, erm,' he paused, looking up the length of the greenhouse. 'Rebecca, at the end there.'

James glanced sideways at Matthew, who shrugged, and they made their way to the far end of the greenhouse as Professor Longbottom continued the register.

'You sure you want to sit there?' asked Matthew.

'I don't think we've got much choice,' replied James, glanced around.

James had told Matthew about the Lestrange family at breakfast that morning, after they had spotted Rebecca sitting on her own at the end of the Gryffindor table. It turned out that Bellatrix Lestrange had an entire chapter dedicated to her in A Modern History of Magic, and Matthew was shocked to find out that it was James' grandmother who had finally killed her next to one of windows by the Ravenclaw table.

'What about next to that Ruby girl?' Matthew pointed at Ruby Johnson.

'There's only one seat,' James pointed out.

Just as at the start of term feast, it appeared that no-one wanted to sit next to Rebecca Lestrange. James sat down in the seat next her.

'Good morning,' he said carefully.

'Hello,' she replied stiffly, not turning to look at him.

'Herbology,' began Professor Longbottom, 'is the study of magical plants, herbs, crops, and fungi. Who here can tell me why the study of these things is useful for a witch or wizard?'

He looked out expectantly and beamed when half a dozen hands shot up, followed by a few more tentative ones.

'I think Miss Johnson was first,' said Professor Longbottom.

'Magical plants and fungi have many important uses in medicine and potions-making and the study of the magical properties of trees is a vital part of wandlore.'

She had said it all in one breath.

'Excellent answer, Miss Johnson. Five points to, ah—'

'Ravenclaw, sir.'

'Five points to Ravenclaw then. In your First Year we'll be looking at a wide variety of plants, from the everyday asphodel to the more dangerous Devil's Snare, and even the Venomous Tentacula. However, Herbology is not just textbooks and essays – in my lessons you will be dealing with plants in a practical manner, so you need to come here with your magical hats firmly on. Even relatively benign plants, such as the Bouncing Bulb, can be dangerous if you don't know how to deal with them. Does anyone know how to deal with an aggrieved Bouncing Bulb?'

This time Ruby's was the only hand to go up.

'Flippendo can be used to repel a young Bouncing Bulb, but more mature ones require the use of Incendio.'

'Excellent. Take another five points for Ravenclaw.'

The other Ravenclaws grinned, clearly happy that they had just managed to get ten points in the space of five minutes.

'But as this is your first ever Hogwarts lesson,' continued Professor Longbottom, 'and you are yet to learn any magic, we'll be studying something much more ordinary.'

James looked at the green plant with furry leaves in front of him.

'Urtica diocia, the stinging nettle. Can anyone tell me—'

Ruby's hand shot up.

'Careful, Ruby, or you'll have me giving more points to Ravenclaw than to my own House,' laughed Professor Longbottom. The other Gryffindors along the table looked less amused.

'Nettles are a common plant found all over Britain. They are used in a wide variety of potions, including the boil-curing potion and the herbicide potion,' she recited.

'Another five points to Ravenclaw. As you can see, I've laid out a single plant for each of you,' he gestured up the length of the table. 'Today, we'll be studying the properties of nettle-venom which, as Ruby has told us, is used in the boil-curing potion Professor Venenum tells me you will be making later this week. Instructions for extracting the venom are on your tables. Work on your own, please – it shouldn't take you longer than an hour, and then we'll spend the final half an hour talking about what you've found.'

They all began. It was rather dull work, but Professor Longbottom kept them entertained with stories about various magical plants he had encountered as they went along. James stared very hard at the glass pipe through which his impure nettle-juice was decanting when he began a story about gillyweed that somehow involved his father, mermaids, and the Black Lake. Eventually, at nearly ten to eleven, he stopped them all.

'Well, we seem to have run over a bit,' he said. 'Not to worry. Everyone pour your nettle-venom into a phial and label it; we'll carry on on Thursday. You might as well go off to your next lesson now.'

Their next lesson was Charms, taught by Professor Flitwick. He instructed his lessons as though he was the conductor of an orchestra, standing atop a tall pile of books. He talked for almost the entire hour about the intricate differences between Charms and Transfiguration, and then squeaked and nearly fell off his books when he checked the time, before sending them off to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Professor Roberts was a very stern man, who walked with a slight limp and somehow managed to keep even the Slytherins quiet without even uttering a single word. The lesson itself was very boring, with Professor Roberts having them practise firing red and green sparks from their wands. They ended the day with the promise of a more interesting lesson on curses and jinxes come Thursday.

History of Magic on Tuesday was by far their dullest subject, taught by Professor Binns. Matthew gaped openly when he first saw that Professor Binns was truly a ghost, but the novelty soon wore off as he began a two hour lecture on the wizards of the Ancient times. After History of Magic was the subject James had been most dreading: Modern History. It was taught by Professor Fletchley – the teacher who had been dressed in pale yellow robes at the Sorting – who had also been in James' Dad's year at Hogwarts. Luckily, they began by talking about Gellert Grindelwald, and Professor Fletchley assured James that they wouldn't be talking about Voldemort and Harry Potter until Second Year.

Modern History was followed by Magical Theory, which was almost as dull as History of Magic. It was taught by Professor Notatus, who looked even more bored by the subject than her students.

'Apparently she's the Arithmancy teacher,' whispered Alex Macmillan, another Gryffindor, after the lesson. 'It must be as dull for her as it is for us.'

Wednesday morning was home to their first Transfiguration lesson, taught by Professor O'Connor. She was a tall witch with a friendly round face, but she wasted no time in letting them know she considered Transfiguration to be the most difficult subject taught at Hogwarts. Then she made Matthew's desk turn into a horse and had it gallop out into the Forest, which impressed everyone thoroughly. They quickly realised, however, that they would not be doing so much as turning a pen into an earthworm for quite some time. By the end of the lesson, only Ruby Johnson and Rebecca Lestrange had managed to turn their matchsticks into needles.

Thursday morning was a momentous occasion for James and Matthew: their first day waking up on time for the morning post. It was truly a sight to behold, as a hundred owls soared into the Great Hall through the open windows, circling overhead and dropping letter and parcels into their owners' laps. It turned out to be lucky that James was there that morning, because a large eagle-owl landed on next to him and dropped a letter onto his toast.

'Who's that from?' asked Matthew, looking over.

'Dunno,' said James, wiping jam off the envelope before ripping it open.

It turned out to be from Hagrid:

Dear James,

Why don't you drop by before dinner on Saturday. Say around eleven? Let me know if you're busy.

Hagrid

James scrawled a quick 'Yes, I'd love to' in reply on the back of the letter, and sent it back with the same owl.

That afternoon came with the promise of their first Potions lesson with Professor Venenum, the austere ex-Healer and Head of Slytherin House. Despite his external appearance, he turned out to be an interesting man, who gave them lots of facts about their boil-curing potion as they brewed it, and complimented Ruby on hers so profusely that she blushed a deep shade of red to match her hair.

#

The next day, all anyone could talk about was their flying lesson that afternoon. Matthew, who had never even seen a broomstick before, let alone ridden one, began to look very pale by the end of Transfiguration.

'Aci Verto,' he muttered, whipping his wand at the match on his desk.

The match promptly set on fire.

'You need to calm down,' snapped Ruby, who, for some reason, had decided to sit herself next to them. 'It's Ac-oo-i Ver-to, not Acci Verdo, and you're moving your wand all wrong. See: Acui Verto.'

She moved her wand with a slight flourish at the end, and her match promptly transformed into a shining needle, complete with eyelet.

With that, Professor O'Connor dismissed them, once again complimenting Ruby on her work. James and Matthew rushed out of the classroom, hurrying along the corridor towards where their flying lesson would taking place. Just as they turned to go out into the courtyard, a tall Slytherin ran straight into James, knocking him to the floor.

'Watch yourself, Potter,' he spat.

'You alright?' asked Matthew, running down and helping James collect his things.

'Yeah. Just some Slytherin.'

'Marcus Avery,' said Matthew grimly, 'he's a right git. Made Ruby cry at the end of Potions yesterday.'

'Really?' said James.

'Yeah, said something about mud. It was weird. I mean, she's an insufferable know-it-all and everything, but making her cry's a bit much, you know...'

They made their way out into the smooth-lawned courtyard where they would be learning to fly. James saw that Marcus and the rest of the Slytherins who had barged past were already here, standing by the best brooms.

'Gather round everyone, and stand by a broom,' Madam Tattel called out as they approached.

There was a mad scramble, at the end of which James was left standing opposite Marcus, with a slightly battered looking Comet Two Sixty.

'Before we start, I want you all to know that flying is perfectly safe. If you fear flying, you will hurt yourself; if you do not, your broom will obey you perfectly.'

James glanced sideways at Matthew, who had begun to turn green.

'Now, hold your hand out over your broom, and say "Up!"'

James' broom jumped up immediately, as did Marcus' and a handful of other people's. Matthew's broom remained firmly planted on the ground; though some others' had at least rolled over.

'Not to worry, very few people get it the first time,' reassured Madam Tattel. 'Try again.'

Five minutes and several attempts later, everyone (even Matthew) had managed to call up their brooms. Madam Tattel showed them all how to mount them and grip the end so that you wouldn't fall off when you were flying.

'We'll start simple. When I blow whistle, I want you all to kick off from the ground, and hold steady. Hover for a few seconds, and then lean forward to land.'

James gripped his broom and kicked off when she blew the whistle. He pulled up gently on the handle of his broom and hovered about three feet off the ground. Suddenly, there was a shout and a muffled thump from next to him. He looked around wildly, expecting to see Matthew on the floor. To his surprise, Matthew was hovering just next to him, with a grin etched on his face.

'Alex just fell off his broom,' he said.

James craned his neck and, indeed, saw Alex Macmillan lying in a heap on the floor.

'He can't be that badly hurt. We're only a few feet off the ground.'

'Nah, I reckon he'll be fine,' said Matthew. 'You should've seen it though. He slid right off the end.'

Madam Tattel blew her whistle again, and they all landed. 'That was very good, mostly,' she said with a glance at Alex, who looked down at his feet. 'Now I think it's best if we split up. Hands up if you have flown before.'

Eleven people put their hands up, including James.

'No, Alex, I think it's best if you stay here with the non-flyers for now,' James heard Madam Tattel say, causing a titter of laughter. 'Okay, you ten pair up with the person opposite you. I want you to fly a small loop around the Owlery Tower and come back here. Keep low to the ground and don't stray off course, I will be able to see you.'

James looked over at Marcus.

'Ladies first, Potter,' he sneered.

James shrugged and kicked off, feeling the wind rush past his face as he swept around the courtyard before pulling up and away. The Owlery Tower was on top of a rocky hill out in the castle grounds, glinting the in the afternoon sun. Just as he was reaching the Tower he heard a whistling sound from behind him. There was a crash as Marcus rammed straight into the side of his broom. The air whipped around his robes as his broom tumbled down and hurtled off course, while James held on for dear life. He saw the ground rush up to meet him and managed to pull up, hard. With no more than a foot to spare, the broom creaked and groaned and then finally levelled out. He saw Marcus up ahead, zooming around the Tower. James grunted and leaned forward, hurtling after him, but it was no use: Marcus had the slightly better broom.

He dropped his broom the moment they had landed back at the courtyard, and marched towards Marcus, not quite what he would do he he got to him. But before he could do anything, the scene in front of him caught his eye. The non-flyers were crowded in a semi-circle around Madam Tattel, who looked absolutely livid, yelling at Alex Macmillan. James had never seen a teacher so angry before. Rebecca was lying on the floor next to them, her face tear-streaked and clutching her arm.

'Never, never, in all my years,' she shouted, whilst Alex looked straight at her, stony faced. 'You could have killed her!'

'What happened?' asked James, finding Matthew in the crowd.

'He cursed her, while we were doing a loop of the courtyard.'

'Using a Knockback Jinx on someone who's twenty feet in the air! You are coming with me now, to see the Headmistress, and I would be surprised if she doesn't expel you on the spot.'

Just then the matron, Madam Abbott, came rushing down into the courtyard. 'What happened?' she demanded, looking from Alex, to Madam Tattel, to Rebecca.

'Broken arm and leg, along with some bruises, Hannah,' replied Madam Tattel.

Madam Abbott nodded and flicked her wand in the direction of Rebecca. A stretcher appeared under her, and she levitated it away, following behind like a conductor.

'Class dismissed,' barked Madam Tattel. She waved her wand and all the brooms immediately flew away towards the storage shed. 'You, with me,' she said, jabbing her wand at Alex.

#

Alex wasn't back when James and Matthew returned to the Common Room after dinner. The events of their flying lesson had, however, rapidly made the rounds, and it seemed to be all anyone could talk about. Matthew, who had been the only other Gryffindor to witness it, was bombarded with questions the moment they walked in.

'Is it true?'

'Has he been suspended?'

'What happened?'

'I heard he used the Cruciatus Curse!'

'Er,' Matthew laughed, 'it was a Knockback Jinx, I think. We were just flying around, and then there was a crash and next thing we knew Madam Tattel was yelling at Alex.'

'I wonder what Professor McGonagall will do...'

'Do you think he'll be expelled?'

'Can you even expel a first-year?'

James and Matthew escaped the crowded Common Room and questions by going up to the first-year dormitory.

'Why do you think he did it?' asked Matthew, sitting on his bed.

'I dunno...' James paused. 'Marcus tried to knock me off my broom as well,' he said.

Matthew looked up at him. 'Really?'

Just then Fred burst in. 'James! Are you all right? We just found out.' He was followed in short order by Lucy.

'I wasn't the one who was jinxed,' James pointed out.

He stopped to catch his breath. Apparently he'd run all the way up the tower. 'No, clearly. Who was?'

'Rebecca. Lestrange,' he added in response to Fred's quizzical look.

'Just her?'

James raised an eyebrow.

'You weren't the one who had to get the news from Lucy!' he said. 'The way she was going on about it you'd have thought there was some nutter going around jinxing first-years. Who did it? Was it M—'

'It was Alex Macmillan, wasn't it James?' said Lucy, cutting Fred off with a sharp look.

'Yes,' it was Matthew who replied. 'But we still don't know why he did it.'

'Macmillan?' asked Fred.

'Yes...' said James.

Lucy and Fred exchanged a dark glance, before she sat down next to James.

'You've got your Modern History textbook, right?' said Lucy. 'Check the chapter on Bellatrix Lestrange.'

'We already did,' said James.

'Did you read all the way to the end?'

They hadn't. Fred and Matthew looked over his shoulder while James pulled open his copy of A Modern History of Magic. At the end of the chapter on Bellatrix Lestrange was a long table, with the title 'Victims'. James scanned down the list, his heart skipping a beat as he passed 'Longbottom, Alice', 'Longbottom, Frank', and 'Lupin, Nymphadora', until he reached the 'M's. There were at least ten Macmillans on the list.

'All of his grandparents, his aunts, and his uncles,' said Lucy softly. 'Him and his parents are the only ones left.'

James looked sadly down at the list, while Matthew sat back down on his bed, looking mortified.

'His entire family?' said Matthew faintly.

'Well... it isn't that uncommon,' replied Lucy. 'The Bones were completely obliterated as well. And the Prewetts – Nathan and Ben are the only ones left.'

'And the Lupins,' added Fred quietly.

'All we're saying,' said Lucy, 'is don't be too quick to judge.'

'But she had nothing to do with all that,' James protested.

'I know, but it's hard, you know. Imagine how you would feel if Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry were the only Weasleys and Potters left.'

James nodded glumly, and they left him. He pulled the curtains around his bed shut and slumped onto the pillows, falling into a troubled sleep.

#

The next morning he woke to the dawn of his first weekend at Hogwarts, and with the promise of meeting Hagrid. They spent the morning in the Common Room, doing homework at Matthew's insistence ('I'll never do it if I keep putting it off.'). Alex still hadn't returned by the time they walked down to Hagrid's at eleven. James knocked on the door, and Hagrid pulled it open, revealing a large round room with a table in the middle, surrounded by chairs that didn't look like they'd be able to hold Hagrid.

'James,' he said, ushering them in. 'Make yerselves at home, I'll put the kettle on.'

James ducked under a pheasant dangling from the ceiling and sat down at the table. Hagrid put a plate of rock cakes in front of them, and looked at Matthew.

'This is Matthew,' said James. 'I hope you don't mind.'

'Not a jot,' he replied, waving a dustbin lid sized hand. 'It's good yer making friends. Vic said yeh were worried about it.'

James blushed.

'Here yeh are.' He filled three large mugs with tea from an enormous pot. 'How's yer firs' week bin?'

The rock cakes were as hard as, well, rocks, but James and Matthew pretended to eat them while telling Hagrid all about their first week. He nodded grimly when they began to tell him about their flying lesson.

'We wer' talkin' about it in the staff room,' he said. 'Not that I blame 'im—'

He stopped abruptly, looking mortified. 'I shouldn't 've said that.'

'Lucy told us about the Macmillans,' said James quickly. 'About how they were...'

'Destroy'd,' said Hagrid.

'Do you know what's going to happen to him?' asked Matthew.

'No,' he said. 'An' I wouldn' tell you even if I did. Yer alright though, righ'?' asked Hagrid. 'No one tried to do anything?'

'Why?' asked James, attempting not to sound cagey.

'No reason, no reason.'

'Lucy and Fred thought that something might have happened to me as well though. Do you know something?'

'Of course they did! Someone was jinxed in yer lesson, yeh can't expect 'em to not be worried.'

'But they sounded like they were expecting someone to attack me!'

'Did someone attack yeh?'

Clearly Hagrid was not going to give up.

'Well, Marcus Avery did crash into me. But I think it was an accident,' he added quickly as Hagrid roared.

'Not bloody likely!'

'Do you think he was targeting me?' said James.

'No,' said Hagrid quickly. 'No o' course not. Have yeh told yer father?'

'What are those for,' asked Matthew, changing the subject.

'Wha'? Oh, the crossbows. They're fer the Forest,' Hagrid replied

They spend the rest of the morning talking to Hagrid about their lessons, and the Forest, and the box of slimy shell-less lobster things he was keeping for his next Care of Magical Creatures lesson. As they walked back to the Castle for lunch, James resolved to send a letter to his parents that evening. He was supposed to be writing every week for Albus anyway.

- JP -

Sorry this is coming a couple of days late! Last week was utterly mad, and I barely had time to sleep, let alone write and edit a chapter. Normal service should resume this weekend.