The next morning at breakfast - right on cue - Daphne joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "G'morning, Harry," she chirped with a bright, cheerful expression on her pretty face . "How was Defense yesterday?"

"Hi there, Daphne," replied Harry. "It was okay, I guess. I get the feeling that we're probably not going to learn anything, y'know, cool or exciting this term. Professor Quirrell only seems interested in these weird creatures... I think there's a Muggle term for that... crypto-something or other."

Daphne flashed that lovely smile of hers. "Cryptozoology, you mean?"

"Yes, that's it," confirmed Harry. "I mean, I'm sure there's a use for it, but it won't do us much good if we're supposed to defend ourselves against other wizards."

"There's something off about him," chimed in Ron. "He's really quiet most of the time... he even seems, I'unno, scared to talk in front of a group."

Daphne sighed. "Well, even those blessed with magical gifts aren't without their fears or flaws... even I have mine..."

"What is it?" asked Ron.

"For one, I'm a bit scared of heights," admitted Daphne with a sheepish expression on her face. "I know we have our first flying lesson today, and I'm not gonna lie, I'm a bit nervous."

Ron barely suppressed a chortle, while Harry gave Daphne a comforting look. "I'm actually looking forward to it," Harry said with true confidence. "I'll gladly partner with you, Daphne. I can't promise I can help you overcome your fear of heights, but what I can promise is that I won't let anything happen to you."

Daphne beamed. "For real, Harry?"

Harry nodded as he returned the smile. "For real."

That afternoon, right after lunch, the Gryffindors and the Slytherins lined up next to the Quidditch pitch for their first flying lesson, taught by Madam Hooch. She taught flying, and was also the usual Quidditch referee as well. Like Professor McGonagall, she was a somewhat tall, slim, middle-aged witch with an austere demeanour, but there was something different about her face. Her nose was sharp - almost beak-like, and her eyes were a most unusual shade of yellowish-amber. Some of the children suspected that she wasn't fully human, but they didn't dare say that out loud.

"Form up," screeched Madam Hooch. "There are two lines, one student, one broom. Do not touch the broom sticks until I say so." The students lined up accordingly. Harry was flanked on either side by Ron and Daphne. Daphne smiled at Harry nervously, while he gave her a reassuring smile. Draco Malfoy and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, were directly across from Harry, Daphne, and Ron.

"So Potter," drawled Draco, "have you given any more thought to my offer?"

Harry looked Draco in the eye. "I have, Draco," he replied coolly. "I have thought it over." He looked at Daphne and then Ron, then smirked at Draco. "I appreciate your offer, but I rather like the friends I already have. I hope you understand."

Draco scowled. "Suit yourself, Potter," he said in a low voice. "My father will be most disappointed to learn of this." He then gave Daphne a sharp look. "And I expected better of you, Daphne Greengrass. No self-respecting Slytherin heiress associates with blood traitors and half-breeds." He shook his head, while giving Harry and Ron a clear look of disapproval.

"My parents are good people," retorted Daphne. "They raised me to respect other witches and wizards, regardless of status. And you're one to talk, Draco. Your daddy's boss had a Muggle for a father!"

Draco threw Daphne an eerie smirk. "Blood is second only to one thing - power. The Dark Lord is perhaps the most powerful being in Magical Britain's history."

Daphne returned the smirk. "Yes, that makes sense, because I've heard rumors that your Auntie Trixie is in love with You-Know-Who, and she's the biggest blood supremacist out there!"

Draco's smirk instantly melted; a defiant sneer took its place. "Don't you dare disrespect my aunt's honor. One more word out of you, Daphne, and our fathers will have a most... uncomfortable discussion."

Daphne bared her pristine teeth at Draco, but Harry gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Let it go, Daphne," he pleaded. "It's not worth it."

Madam Hooch gave the feuding students a sharp look. "Are the lot of you quite finished?" she yelped in an annoyed tone. "Good," she said once she saw every head turned toward her direction and giving her their undivided attention. "The first thing I'm tasking you with is how to summon your broom. There isn't much to it, all you need to do is put your hand out - like so - and shout, up!"

She made a quick demonstration for the students, by fully stretching her arm out, and she sharply and confidently called out up! And just like that, the broomstick at her feet flew straight up to her outstretched hand. "Now you try it," she commanded. "It may take you several tries, but practice makes perfect."

All twenty-ish students began stretching their arms out just as Madam Hooch demonstrated, and shouted up!, with varying degrees of success. Harry got it on his first go - the broom stick cleanly floated to his hand, exactly as Madam Hooch had done just a minute earlier. Ron almost had it, but the broom knocked him on the chin instead of his hand. Draco's broom hit him precisely in the groin, and he tumbled on the ground, writhing in pain. Daphne's broom flopped around like a fish on the ground, but never came close to her hand.

"How did you do it, Harry?" asked Daphne. "You got it on your first go, but I can't even get mine to leave the ground."

Harry shrugged. "I just wanted it to be in my hand more than anything in the world, I s'pose."

Daphne yelped up! again, but once again, the broom came nowhere near her hand. She felt her eyes sting as tears welled in them, but she wasn't about to give Draco the satisfaction of seeing her cry in front of him. She shook her head in frustration and again turned her attention toward Harry.

"What am I doing wrong? This comes so easily to you, but it's so hard for me!" she asked. She didn't really expect Harry to have a good answer, but he shocked her with some surprisingly sage advice.

"Daphne, I know flying makes you nervous, so that probably has something do to with it," he replied. "You need to be confident when you summon your broom. Even if you're a bit afraid of heights, you still need to let that broom know that you're in charge. I might have an idea that'll help you. I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath, and think of the happiest thought you can think of. It doesn't have to be anything related to flying... just find that happy place. When you do, shout up! like you mean it!"

Daphne nodded, and closed her eyes as Harry asked. She then thought of the happiest thing she could think of, and fully extended her arm. She then barked a confident up! and voila! The broom floated directly to her hand. She opened her eyes, and squealed with delight when she saw the broom stick in her outstretched hand.

"Harry, you're amazing," she sighed. She wrapped her arms around him in gratitude. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"It's nothing," whispered Harry, his face pink with embarrassment.

A few minutes later, after most of the students had successfully summoned their broom sticks, Madam Hooch proceeded to the next step. "It's now time to kick off from the ground. Don't worry about height, just a few feet is fine. All you need to do is point your broom up as such, and kick off like this!" She once again provided a demonstration of how to kick off, and a few seconds later, returned to the same spot. "And point your broom down, like I just did, to land."

Daphne started shaking - this was the part that made her nervous. "I got you, Daphne," Harry said. "I won't let anything happen to you." Daphne smiled at Harry, grateful to know that Harry had her back. "Just do as I do, and you'll be fine." Harry pointed his broom and kicked off, and Daphne followed suit. She made it several feet in the air, but her broom was moving at a faster speed than what she was comfortable with, but thankfully Harry was watching her the entire time. Harry had just landed his broom, and was prepared to guide Daphne down for the softest landing possible. "Point your broom down," Harry called out to Daphne, who could only nod. She pointed her broom down, but she was barrelling down toward the ground faster than she wanted.

She cried out when her jade amulet flew off her neck as she made her way toward the ground. Harry figured she was going too fast to make any sort of a gentle landing, but thankfully she was flying low enough that he could attempt to catch her - or at least break her fall - so he told her to jump when she was about ten or twelve feet above the ground. She trusted Harry, so she quickly hopped off her broom, where Harry stood underneath her. As he was a slight boy, he wasn't able to catch the hurtling girl, but he was satisfied knowing he at least broke her fall and prevented any injuries.

Suddenly, Professor Sprout - the Hufflepuff house head and Herbology teacher - approached Madam Hooch and seemed to want to discuss something with her. "Students, I'll be back momentarily," Madam Hooch called out. "Please remain here until I get back, and if I catch any of you goofing off, I'll have you out of here faster than you can say quidditch!"

A moment later, Harry coughed a couple of times as he stood to his feet. Daphne was a fairly petite girl, but even her small body managed to knock some of the wind out of him. He dusted off his robes, then held out his hand to help Daphne up. "Are you all right, Daphne?" he asked.

"I think so," she replied. "My pride might be a little hurt, but otherwise I'm - DRACO MALFOY!"

Draco was in the air on his broom, gloating at Harry and Daphne. In his right hand, he tantalizingly dangled Daphne's jade amulet.

"That was from my grandmother," begged Daphne. "Please give it back to me."

Draco gave Daphne a sneaky grin. "I have a better idea... I think I'll throw it somewhere for your loyal terrier to find!"

"Give it back to her, Draco," Harry demanded as he mounted his broom again. "I'm not going to ask you again."

Draco laughed mockingly at Harry. "Oh, I'm sorry Potter, here you go - whoops!" He pretended to hand the pendant to Harry, before jerking his hand back at the last second, and chucked it toward the castle as hard as he could, but Harry's eyes were already locked on it as he jetted off on his broom stick. He caught Daphne's amulet only an arm's length away from Professor McGonagall's window, whose eyes widened with wonder at the act she had just witnessed.

She hurried out of the castle and to the training grounds where she saw over a dozen children - both Gryffindor and Slytherin alike - applauding and cheering Harry's efforts to retrieve Daphne's priceless amulet.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Professor McGonagall incredulously.

Daphne stepped forward and showed the Gryffindor head her jade amulet. "Professor McGonagall, my amulet fell off during our flying lesson, but Draco found it and teased me with it. He then threw it toward the castle, but Harry flew after it and returned it to me."

She then eyed the rest of the students. "Is this true?" she asked. All the other students, except for Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, replied affirmatively. She then glared at Draco. "Mister Malfoy, you may consider this a warning. If I ever catch you engaging in delinquent behavior going forward, you will receive detention. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Professor," muttered Draco.

Professor McGonagall nodded in satisfaction, then turned her attention to Harry. "Harry Potter, if you'll follow me please," she said in an ambiguous tone. She led him back to the castle, leaving several of the students dumbstruck. He had technically broken the rules, so was he going to get thrown out? Receive detention? Lose house points?

Ron and Daphne even exchanged worried glances... Harry had done something honorable, so it's not likely that he'd get shown the door, they thought, but then again, Professor McGonagall had a reputation for being a stickler for rules.

Professor McGonagall kept her voice down as they made their way back to the castle so others would not catch their conversation, but she gave Harry a fairly soft expression - one letting him know that everything was going to be all right. "You know, you have officially broken the rules, young man," she gently admonished Harry. "Technically, I should assign detention for it at a minimum... but I'll let it slide." She smiled warmly at Harry. "I'm very, very proud of you; you've done a very honorable deed. You went above and beyond to retrieve another student's property that was wrongly taken from them, and what's more impressive is that the student is from another house. It's not every day a Gryffindor goes out of their way to help a Slytherin, that's for sure."

Harry returned the smile. "I don't see Daphne as a Slytherin. I just see her as a friend."

"I've only known her for a short while, but Miss Greengrass is a most delightful student," replied Professor McGonagall. "It makes my heart smile to see that there's at least one genuine friendship between the two houses." She then led Harry to a classroom door. "Mister Potter, I'll award Gryffindor five points for your efforts, plus I'd like to introduce you to someone." She flashed a rather curious smile, then knocked on the door. Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, answered.

"Y-yes, P-professor?" he stammered.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Professor Quirrell, I'd like to see Mister Wood for a moment please. It should not take more than a couple of minutes."

"Cer-certainly," Quirrell replied timidly. He tapped a strapping lad of about fifteen or sixteen named Oliver Wood on the shoulder, and pointed his thumb toward the door. "M-McGonagall," he whispered. "She n-needs you for a moment." Oliver nodded, and made his way to the door, where he saw both Professor McGonagall and Harry.

Professor McGonagall beamed. "Oliver Wood? This is Harry Potter," she said, barely able to contain her excitement. "I know Gryffindor needs a new seeker - and I think Mister Potter would fill in quite nicely." Harry's jaw dropped as he looked up at Professor McGonagall - he could hardly believe it - he was going to be on the quidditch team!

Oliver thrust his hand toward Harry. "Hello, Harry," he said with a friendly smile. "I'm the Gryffindor team captain. I'll be responsible for training you. Why don't you meet me on the quidditch pitch right after class tomorrow?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. He couldn't wait to begin his quidditch training!

Professor McGonagall chuckled. "It's settled, then. Now Wood, just because Mister Potter is a firstie, doesn't mean I want you to go easy on him. The other houses aren't going to show him any mercy, so he'll need to be acclimated as soon as possible."

Oliver cocked his head. "Professor? If Harry here is as talented as you think he is, it should be the other houses that should fear us." He nodded with confidence. "He'll be ready, I guarantee it."

At dinner that evening, Harry was the talk of all of Gryffindor. Even Nearly-Headless Nick (who preferred the more dignified title of Sir Nicholas) couldn't help but boast of the feat to the other castle ghosts. When Daphne skipped her way over to the Gryffindor table, she wrapped her arms around Harry in a tight hug and refused to let him go. She briefly thought about giving him a peck on the cheek, but she didn't know how well he would take it, so she wisely held off.

"That's awesome, Harry," squeaked Daphne. "I'm really, really happy for you. I may be a Slytherin, but I'll pull for your house whenever Slytherin doesn't play you... and when we do play, I'll certainly pull for you, at least!" She then gave Harry a look of sincere appreciation. "And thank you for everything you've done for me today, Harry. You did make Flying a bit easier, that's for sure... and I don't know what I would have done if I lost my pendant."

Ron couldn't help but gush over Harry. "It's been about a century since a firstie played for Gryffindor - that's historic!"

"I didn't expect any of this," Harry admitted. "I just wanted to do the right thing, even if it meant bending a rule or two."

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Draco and his goons were seething.

"How in the name of Merlin did Potter not get kicked out?" grumbled Draco. "He broke the rules - Madam Hooch even said that she would see to it that anyone caught messing around would be sent home!"

"Or at least receive detention," moaned Pansy Parkinson, another one of Draco's sycophants. She wore her dark hair in a chin-length bob, and her nose was rather flat and pug-like.

Crabbe and Goyle, the brawny meatheads, could only bang their fists on the table in frustration.

"Y'know Drakey, there might be another way to get Potter on the train home," Pansy suggested with a sneaky expression.

Draco smirked. "I'm listening, Pans."

"The third floor? Trophy room? After lights out, say, tomorrow night? Why don't you challenge Potter to a wizard's duel? You of course won't be there, but he'll fall for it - hook, line, and sinker! You can get one of your Rottweilers to act as your second, and I'm sure he'll get Weasel-face to act as his... and I can tip off Filch tomorrow at dinner to let him know that there might be some students out past bedtime... Potter and Weasley will get caught, while you get of scot-free!"

Draco's smirk grew into a sneaky smile. "Y'know something Pansy? That just might work..."