Chapter Fourteen: Enemies Make the World Go Round

Over the course of the next few days, Albus continued to spring Nick with the question "Who is Aristor?" in hopes that he would be able to surprise Nick and, in a moment of vulnerability, he would tell him. Nick did no such thing. Erin, watching them, wondered why Albus didn't give up.

It was very clear to them both that Nick was lying; but it was also clear to Erin that this was something Nick preferred not to talk about, and she respected that. Albus, however, didn't seem to have the restraint.

"Enough, Albus," Erin muttered for what felt like the umpteenth time as they made their way down to the Quidditch pitch. She was feeling irritable, and not just because of Albus' constant piques. Today was their first flying lesson and Erin wasn't too excited. In fact, she had been dreading it. She didn't think flying on a thin, wooden broom hundreds of feet off the ground could be counted as safe or fun. She was perfectly satisfied with two feet on the ground.

To Erin's left, Evan Wallman seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He looked rather queasy as he said, "There'll be nets to catch us if we fall… right?"

The Slytherins closest to him sniggered. To make matters worse, the Gryffindors were having their first lesson with them. Erin watched Mulciber leading his group of cronies, Scorpious dutifully following along as they pushed their way through the Gryffindors.

"Welcome, boys and girls," said Madame Hooch once they had all gathered in the pitch, "to your first ever flying lesson."

Some of the Slytherins mock applauded, and Madame Hooch shot them a look. She was a stocky woman with snow-white hair and eyes that commanded respect. "We'll be going over the basics today," Madame Hooch said. "Everyone step over to the right of a broomstick. Alright? Now put your left hand over the broom and say "up"!"

"UP!" The Gryffindors and Slytherins chorused together. Erin's broom shot up straight into her hand. She noticed Nick's, Albus', and Scorpious' did as well. Others, like Evan Wallman, weren't as lucky on their first attempt.

Madame Hooch showed them the correct way to grip and mount a broomstick; how to break and touch back to ground; and how to accelerate and decelerate. And then, the moment Erin had been dreading. "On my whistle: three, two, one!" Erin kicked off the ground and found herself hovering in midair.

Her breath caught in her throat. It was, no other way to describe it… incredible. She wriggled her feet and felt a swooping sensation in her stomach. It was strange not to have solid ground beneath her.

A few moments later and she had landed back on the ground with everyone else. Her irrational fear was in the past now, and she wondered what it would be like to really fly, to hurtle through the wind at top speed….

"Aw, is wittle Wallman afwaid of heights?" Erin heard a taunting voice jeer. She turned, expecting to see a Slytherin, and was surprised to see Charlie, a smirk plastered on her face as she watched a greenish color rise on Evan's. Evan shook his head, shaking slightly as he dismounted. Mulciber, laughing beside Charlie, said, "We didn't even go up more than a few feet. What a Mudblood."

"Hey," Erin began.

"How dare you!"

Madame Hooch strode over, her eyes on fire. Even Mulciber cowered. "I never, and I repeat, never, want to hear that sort of language in my class. Detention! Mulciber and Zabini, go to Professor McGonagall- immediately!" she added when Mulciber opened his mouth to interrupt.

Charlie looked affronted. "But Madame Hooch, I didn't do anything…."

"Immediately," Madame Hooch repeated, her nostrils flaring. Sulking, the two of the tem left towards the castle. Madame Hooch turned back to the class, clearly fazed. "Now where were we…?"

"I can't believe Charlie still hangs with that group," Nick muttered at Erin's side. "It's pathetic how much she wants their approval."

"Mulciber seems downright horrible," Erin agreed, "I don't understand why they follow him."

"Yeah, Charlie should have realized by now…."

But Erin was watching Scorpious.

They adjourned back to the castle with muddy sneakers and windswept hair. Scarlet, as usual, was keeping up a one-man conversation.

"…and I was begging Mum to buy me a broom," she was telling Evan Wallman and Michelle Geller. "But, can you believe it, she refused! Even after she saw how good I was. Just because of that stupid rule…."

"What rule?" Michelle asked.

Scarlet sighed. Erin couldn't tell if it was to dramatize her point or because she was annoyed at being interrupted.

"That first years can't play on the House Quidditch team," Scarlet said. "It's a silly rule, of course, because there's bound to be some talented first years…. And Albus' dad got on the team in his first year, didn't he?"

Albus looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I suppose he did…."

"Last year's Gryffindor Seeker finished school already," Scarlet chattered, continuing as though Albus hadn't spoken. "I wonder who it'll be this year? I heard James is planning to try out," she said with an inquiring glance in Albus' direction. "Is he any good?"

Before Albus had a chance to respond, they heard a ghastly shriek from behind them. Erin spun around, whipping out her wand although she hadn't the faintest idea how to use it.

There was an old man standing several feet behind them. He was stooped over, with a hunchback, and a face that seemed gaunt and withered away. He held a long mop in his hand; the other hand was pointing at a long trail of….

"Mud!" the man shrieked. "Disgusting filth! Dirt! On my floors!"

Erin felt Albus stiffen beside her. "I'm- we're- sorry, I swear!" Albus stammered. But the man paid him no heed. "Mud!" he cried again, beginning to wipe it up off the floor. "Disgusting."

"Come on," Erin heard Scarlet urge them from behind, and they cautiously backed up, leaving the old man to mop and mutter to himself.

"Who is that?" Albus asked, once they were out of earshot.

Trenton Wood threw a half-horrified, half-pitied glance behind him. "His name's Mr. Green," he said in an undertone. "He's the caretaker."

"What's he doing here?" asked Albus.

"Can he see us?" Michelle asked.

Wood shook his head. "I don't think so… rumor has it that he's a Muggle. Came here looking for work a few years ago and Dippet hired him. He can't see or hear any of us; I don't even think he can really see the castle. He just mops up dirt every day and night…."

The Gryffindors fell silent at this morbid thought.

As they rounded the corner towards the Fat Lady, Erin saw Charlie walking huffily towards them, her face tinged with pink. She supposed Charlie had just gotten a yelling from McGonagall. Erin smiled to herself. She deserved it.

"Move," Charlie growled at Michelle and Wood, who had arrived first at the portrait hole. They both instinctively took a step back. Without thinking, Erin moved forward and blocked the entrance.

"Move," Charlie repeated, this time angrier. Erin didn't budge. "You forgot to say please," she said in a sing-song voice.

Charlie narrowed her eyes. "I'm not in the mood to play, Erin."

"Good, neither am I, so I'll make this quick," Erin said, years of being bullied building up like fury inside of her. "You don't like us and we don't like you. That's fine. But you don't need to make it so obvious. Leave us alone. Stop trying to intimidate us, because it's not going to work. You're stuck up, selfish, and mean, but that's about it. I don't get why the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor either, but trust me, that's something we all wouldn't mind changing. Oh, and another thing," Erin said, turning her back on Charlie's red face and her classmates' shocked ones, "no, you may not go through the portrait hole first."

And she marched into the common room, wondering if crossing Charlie Zabini and her Slytherin friends was a bad idea.