Disclaimer: Harry Potter and friends belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this story.
**Any print in italics is quoted directly from J.K. Rowling. I will note which book it was taken from at the bottom of the chapter.**
WARNING: THIS STORY WILL BE RATED M FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS.
-Please note that anything in Italics is probably directly quoted from one of the books, I will try to site books and page numbers when I can.- ***Gender Changes will not be italicized as they are not part of the book. For example, if I change something from him to her or her to him I won't Italicize.
Chapter 2:
Harry glanced around the great hall in awe. She was sitting at the Gryffindor table next to Rhonda Weasley and several other new Gryffindors, including a bushy-haired boy named Herman Granger. Her eyes moved over the Head Table where the teachers sat. Her uncle, Toby was sitting at the table beside a strange, pale young man in a purple turban who was their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As her eyes roamed over him, she felt a searing pain in her scar. She winced and her hand rose to the lightning bolt. The movement drew the eyes of her uncle who glanced at her and then suspiciously over at the turbaned man.
She felt more eyes on her and looked up at the head table. The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore was staring at her as though trying to see into her skull. She snorted derisively. Let him try. She'd been taught by the best. No-one was getting into her head unless she let them.
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Malfoy smiled nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well.
Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"
Harry grabbed her broom.
"No!" shouted Herman Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move — you'll get us all into trouble."
Harry ignored her. Blood was pounding in her ears. She mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up she soared; air rushed through her hair, and her robes whipped out behind her — and in a rush of fierce joy she realized she'd found something she could do without being taught — this was easy, this was wonderful.
She pulled her broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Rhonda.
She turned her broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.
"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"
"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.
Harry knew, somehow, what to do. She leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.
The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.
Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. She leaned forward and pointed her broom handle down — next second she was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball — wind whistled in her ears, mingled with the screams of people watching — she stretched out her hand — a foot from the ground she caught it, just in time to pull her broom straight, and she toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in her fist.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Her heart sank faster than she'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them.
She got to her feet, trembling.
"Never — in all my time at Hogwarts —"
Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "— how dare you — might have broken your neck —"
"It wasn't her fault, Professor —"
"Be quiet, Miss Patil —"
"But Malfoy —"
"That's enough, Miss Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."
Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as she left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle. She was going to be expelled, she just knew it.
She wanted to say something to defend herself, but there seemed to be something wrong with her voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at her; she had to jog to keep up. Now she'd done it. She hadn't even lasted two weeks. She'd be packing her bags in ten minutes. What would the Aunt Andromeda say when she turned up on the doorstep?
Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to her.
She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking her to Dumbledore. She thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps she could be Hagrid's assistant. Her stomach twisted as she imagined it, watching Rhonda and the others becoming wizards, while she stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid's bag.
Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.
"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"
Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on her?
But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.
"Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry.
"In here."
Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.
"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two kids.
"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood — I've found you a Seeker."
It didn't take long for the news to spread all over Hogwarts. Soon everyone knew that Harry was not only the youngest seeker in a century, but the first female Gryffindor to ever hold that position. When the new Nimbus 2000 arrived at the table for her, she shot a glance at her Uncle, but he merely raised an inquiring eyebrow. If he hadn't sent it, who had? She wondered. She felt uneasy being stared at and speculated about and she actually felt relieved when Uncle – Erm, Professor Snape docked points from Gryffindor for all the whispering that was going on during potions class. She nearly grinned when he gave her detention for attempting to help the bumbling Neville perfect his brewing technique.