Hi everyone! I am back! My apologies for the huge delay. Do I have any excuses? Not really. I forgot about this story for a while until I got some random follows and favorites, and then I remembered this existed and I should probably update.

Anyways, assuming I continue with this story, I've decided on doing a few chapters per year at Hogwarts with important events detailed, and the rest described fairly briefly with time skips of a few weeks/months depending on the year.

Of course, I own nothing. I'm just a student procrastinating on my homework. A little bit of this text is from the books. And this story is un-betaed.

Thank you SO much to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed. Please leave me a review on this chapter, they encourage me to continue!

Chapter 5: Flying

The first few weeks went by in a blur for Harry. He had always loved learning, no matter how much the Dursleys tried to squash that. Transfiguration and Charms were difficult, but really interesting. He was quite good at Herbology from all of his time gardening for the Dursleys, and Madame Sprout made sure to point out his good work. Although he expected to love Defense Against the Dark Arts, he found that he didn't. Professor Quirrell always wore a turban, and the classroom smelled distinctly like garlic. And Harry always left with a mild headache. Potions with the Gryffindors, well, he was glad to be a Slytherin. For the most part, Professor Snape ignored him, but he had some sort of vendetta against the Gryffindors, making sure they lost points every class. Harry even felt really bad for Neville, the boy who lost his toad on the Hogwarts train, because every time Snape even looked his way, he would get really nervous, inevitably mess up his potion, and more often than not cause a giant explosion that caused him to go to the hospital wing. But Harry didn't want to stand against his house or his newfound friends, so he just tried to blend into the background, not laughing at Neville but not standing up for him, either. In History of Magic, he and Draco sat in the back of class, Draco usually sleeping and he reading one of the many books about wizarding culture, history, or customs that had been sent to him. Harry was currently reading about various magical creatures, and had just started the section on house-elves. He thought the idea was unsettling, that many Wizarding families owned them, but the other Slytherins assured him that they were, for the most part, happy and treated well.

Harry looked up at the clock anxiously. History of Magic was the last class separating him from their long-awaited flying lesson. A week ago, a notice had appeared on their common room informing the students of a flying lesson with the Gryffindors (an accident waiting to happen, in Harry's opinion). But the day had finally, finally arrived, and he was incredibly excited. Harry knew that many of his friends, especially Draco and Blaise, had lots of flying experience at home, but as first years were not allowed to have brooms at school, they couldn't teach him. Although he did order a book about Quidditch and flying to try and not make a fool out of himself at the lesson. Finally, class was over. They raced down to the dungeons to throw their bags in their room, change, and went out onto the Quidditch pitch.

After a few minutes, the Gryffindors, then their teacher Madame Hooch, arrived.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'

"UP" everyone shouted.

To his surprise, Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Of course, Draco and Blaise's had. Looking over at the Gryffindors, it looked like Ron had been successful as well. However, Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. After a few more minutes, everyone had succeeded in getting their brooms up. Then, Madame Hooch taught them the correct broom grip, and went around correcting those who were doing it wrong. She came over to the Slytherins and promptly told Draco his hold was all wrong and how to correct it. The Gryffindors, Ron especially, were snickering at this.

Draco leaned over to Harry and explained, loudly enough so that everyone could hear "My broom hold is what the professional Quidditch players use. I should know, because I've met quite a few of them on the England team. It's a riskier grip, but gives you more maneuverability."

When they heard this, many of the Gryffindors lost their smirks, and now looked rather green with envy about Draco's connections.

By this time, Madame Hooch was talking again, and explaining that they were going to gently lift off of their brooms and hover a few feet off the ground. She counted down, but on two Neville pushed off hard, lifting ten, twenty feet into the air. He went higher and higher, until he looked down, realized that everyone else was still on the ground, then realized how far up he was, and promptly fainted. Madame Hooch whipped out her wand to cushion his fall, but he still fell with a 'whack,' and he had definitely broken some bones.

She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' With that, she carried Neville up to the hospital wing.

Once she was out of sight, chaos broke out. The Slytherins laughed uproariously at Neville, while the Gryffindors grew angrier and angrier. Finally, Ron snapped.

"Stop laughing at my friend Neville, you, you children of Death Eaters who think you're so high and mighty," he yelled.

"You care so much about his friend Neville," responded Draco coolly, "Well, would you be willing to take risks for him?" During the exchange, he had picked up a clear, smooth ball that must have belonged to Neville.

"What's this, a remembrall?" he asked. "Well, go get it," and he threw it up into the sky as far as he could.

Ron paled, but didn't motion to get off the ground.

Harry turned to look at Draco. He didn't want to risk the friendships he had formed, but he also didn't want Draco to get in trouble for breaking something of Neville's. He knew what he had to do. Kicking off his broom, he soared high into the air, letting out a yell of joy, and diving down to catch the remembrall only a few feet from the ground.

"I didn't want you to get in trouble," said Harry, looking at Draco. Turning to look at Ron, he said "But Weasley, don't think this is a favor for you. I still don't like you for calling my friends names."

Seemingly out of nowhere, Madame Hooch reappeared. "HARRY POTTER!" His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. She was running toward them. He got to his feet, trembling.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -" Madame Hooch was almost speechless with shock, and her eyes flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck -" "It wasn't his fault, Professor -" "Be quiet, Miss Patil " " Potter, follow me, now."

They went down to Snape's office, Harry certain the whole way he was about to be kicked out and would be sent to live with the Dursleys again. Madame Hooch explained what happened, and left Harry with Snape to determine his punishment.

"Well, Mr. Potter, two months of detention with me. Cleaning cauldrons. At a time that is mutually agreeable. But for now, there is someone I need to take you to see."

Even though it was two months of detention, Harry brightened up "You mean I am not going to be kicked out of Hogwarts, Professor?"

Snape rolled his eyes "Honestly, think about how much of a press field day there would be if the Boy-Who-Lived was kicked out of Hogwarts. No, not this time."

After walking through numerous classrooms, they stopped at a classroom. Severus walked in, robes billowing, and said "Excuse me Professor Babbling, could I have Flint for a few minutes, please?"

Flint? thought Harry, bewildered; was Flint some form of punishment?

However, out walked a large Slytherin boy, and they walked in silence to Snape's office again.

"Flint, you know what you were saying about needing a Seeker? Well, here you have him," and Harry recounted the events of the day to him.

Later that evening, the first year Slytherins were sitting around in the common room, as Harry excitedly explained that he would be at least a reserve on their Quidditch team. He was incredibly excited – his day had gone from almost being expelled to youngest player in centuries. Again, he fell asleep, content with his day and so happy to be at Hogwarts.