The rest of the week leading up to the flying lessons went by as normal for classes. However, Draco's preening and strutting about and bragging about how good he was on a broom or complaining about the rule against first years having their own broom was starting to wear a bit thin on everyone's nerves. Most of the upper classmen simply rolled their eyes and ignored the little braggart, which of course, annoyed him to no end. He was often heard making vague threats about his father's influence causing trouble for those who didn't show him more respect. While this caused a few students, especially the first and seconds years with lesser political strength or those born from mixed or mundane parents, to feign interest out of fear, most people simply ignored him altogether. Staros did not. He saw an opportunity instead.
"Seriously, Draco. If you're that good, just shut up and try out for the house team. Even if you just get an alternate position, you'll get the chance to show off at practice and even a few games," Staros said one morning after listening to Draco's spiel for about the tenth time.
"You shouldn't talk to me that way. My father…" Draco started.
"Yes, yes, Lord Lucius Malfoy is on the Board of Governors and has the Minister's ear. In case I haven't made it clear before, Draco, I don't care. Gods, it's like talking to a rock."
Draco sputtered something and looked to be about to start another long winded speech about his position, etc. when Staros looked at him and said, "Look, tell ya what. Howabout we make this interesting. I got ten galleons to say you aren't the top flyer in the class. Waddya say?"
Draco blinked and appeared to consider the bet.
"OK, done," Draco agreed.
"Excellent!" exclaimed Staros. "Now, hold on while I write this up. We'll get Nott and Blaise to witness it and we'll be all legal-like."
"Write it up?" asked Draco. "You make it sound like you can't trust me."
"Of course I don't trust you, Drakey!" said Staros, acting surprised it was ever in doubt. "We're in Slytherin, and alone in our room. Who the hell would believe either of us if we accuse the other of welching on a little gentlemanly bet?"
Draco grumblingly agreed to have it all written up, signed and witnessed. When Staros gave the parchment over to Professor Flitwick, however, he objected stating that Professor Snape should hold onto it. Staros said having a disinterested third party outside the house hold onto the paper made it so no one could tamper with the agreement and as a former duelist, Professor Flitwick's honor was the highest of all the instructors when it came down to betting. Professor Flitwick looked like he couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing or if he was insulted or not but agreed to hold onto the document, even signing his own name at the bottom as the neutral witness. At least Draco's bragging was cut back severely as he now had something riding on his skills.
Thursday rolled around with many students becoming increasingly nervous about the flying lessons. Most notable were several of the Gryffindors who became the butt of many jokes when it was seen that Hermione was trying to read up on flying skills while Neville had apparently never been allowed to even use a basic training broom at home. A couple of the Slytherin class were in similar positions, namely Tracey who's family looked down on the Quidditch game in general and never bought her a broom to use at home. Daphne was constantly assuring her that it would be fine and the brooms the school used were quite slow and not to worry.
Thursday afternoon arrived with the students from Gryffindor and Slytherin gathering together on the grounds around back of the castle, near the pitch. As everyone clustered into groups, mainly a Gryffindor on one side, Slytherin on the other, Staros was examining the brooms with a look of disgust. Harry looked quizzically at him before walking over to ask what was wrong. Ron followed along looking like he'd swallowed a lemon.
"These brooms are what's wrong, Harry," sneered Staros. "These things are barely usable. This one's twigs are all bent at odd angles! And this one looks like the handle was cut from rough timber! We'll be lucky if they get off the ground!"
Some of the other students looked like they agreed and despite still seeming to hate all things Slytherin, Ron was also nodding in agreement and said, "Fred and George warned us last night that the brooms weren't in the best shape."
About this time, the flight instructor, Madame Hooch, had arrived and split everyone into two lines facing each other. Having them all stand next to a broom, she said, "Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up'."
As instructed, everyone said, "Up!"
Harry, Staros, Draco, Ron, and Daphne's brooms all jumped right to their hands. Others had more difficulty as Tracey's broom swung up at a bad angle and swatted her on the head. Hermione's twitched a few times and rolled over while Neville's just laid there. Blaise's broom came up half way before dropping back to the ground while Crabbe and Goyle both were wrestling Crabbe's broom back down as it decided 'Up' meant to fly away.
After a bit more trial and error everyone had ahold of their brooms and Madame Hooch walked the lines correcting people's grips or showing a better position to sit the handle. Draco was slightly embarrassed to be told his grip was all wrong earning him a sly smile from Staros.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madame Hooch. "Keep your broom steady, rise up a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle… three… two…"
Neville's nervousness had him pushing off a bit harder than necessary and a bit sooner than expected. As Madame Hooch was yelling for him to come back down, he was shooting straight up and looked like he was about to panic. Just as she picked up her own broom to help him as he was now over twenty feet in the air, his broom shuddered and Neville slipped sideways, lost his grip and fell to the ground with a loud THUD that did nothing to hide the nasty crunch sound that signaled the breaking of bone. The broom drifted away unnoticed as everyone, many, some Slytherin's included, rushed over to the boy.
Madame Hooch stalked over yelling, "Back off him. Let me see."
A quick examination and a statement of a broken wrist had Madame Hooch telling them all to stay here and on the ground while she escorted Neville to the hospital wing.
"And if I see a single one of you even sitting on a broom when I get back, you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'!"
Just as the two were out of sight, Draco started to laugh. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"
Naturally, Crabbe and Goyle started to laugh with their leader, along with Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and a few of Draco's other toadies. Daphne and Tracey just looked on, Daphne with an icy look of disgust and Tracey a bit upset, probably thinking about her own lack of flying skill. Staros and Blaise just leaned against a nearby rock staying out of the ridicule.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" said one of the Patil twins.
"Oooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" teased Pansy. "Never took you to fancy fat little crybabies, Parvati."
Before the inevitable cat-fight could start, Draco suddenly darted forward saying, "Look! It's that stupid ball Longbottom's gran sent him."
Tossing the Remembral up into the air a few times, Draco was looking rather pleased with himself.
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.
Draco turned to Harry and just sneered at him, "Why should I? Maybe I'll just leave it somewhere for him to find… like up a tree!"
With that, Draco jumped on his broom and kicked off the ground, quickly gaining altitude and swinging over to a nearby copse of trees.
"Well, look at that," said Blaise. "The braggart really does know how to fly."
Shrugging, Staros said, "Fly, yes. Fly well, let's see."
As Staros was saying this, Harry had grabbed up a broom and kicked off himself. For a boy that had been raised by mundanes, Harry was acquitting himself rather well as he quickly rose to the same height as Draco and moved to within about ten feet of him. Draco looked less than pleased.
"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry. "Last chance, or I'll knock you off your broom!"
"Oh yeah," Draco sneered, looking a little less confident.
Harry suddenly leaned forward and shot towards Draco who only just barely moved in time, looking surprised.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy!"
Draco seemed to look a bit worried at that, but still dodged Harry's next run. The two of them played a bit of cat and mouse for a few minutes, showing that while Draco really could fly decently, Harry seemed to be in a whole different class. Staros wondered if he should start asking for bets. Every time Harry charged, he got closer; every time Draco dodged it was just a bit off. As Harry chased Draco down, Draco seemed to think enough was enough and stopped suddenly.
"You want it, catch it if you can!" screamed Draco, throwing the ball straight out and towards the castle walls where it would surely be destroyed.
Harry didn't even hesitate as he shot past Draco in a sudden burst of speed, nearly upsetting Draco from his broom. He swung in an arc towards the glittering ball, following it as it descended faster and faster towards the ground. Now Staros was sure he should have started the betting earlier. Harry seemed to tuck in and make himself smaller as he increased his speed far past what anyone believed the school brooms could do. Getting ever closer to the ground, he stretched out his hand and snatched the ball from the air before just yanking the broom straight and parallel to the ground, skimming along barely a foot up before it let itself down and Harry rolled off it. The broom looked to be smoking slightly.
"HARRY POTTER!"
As everyone was running up to watch Harry's dive, Professor McGonagall had coming striding rapidly unnoticed behind them. Everyone froze while Harry picked himself up and she stepped up to him.
"NEVER… in all my time at Hogwarts…"
Professor McGonagall looked shocked, angry, frightened, and undecided as to which emotion should take the fore. Fury seemed to win out.
"How dare you… might have broken your neck…"
"It wasn't his fault, Professor…" began Parvati.
"Be quiet, Miss Patil!"
"But Malfoy…" started Ron.
"That's enough, Mister Weasly! Potter, follow me, NOW!"
As Harry walked away looking dejected, Draco and crew were all smiles and giggles before Madame Hooch stalked back onto the field.
"Mister Malfoy, I believe I told everyone to STAY ON THE GROUND did I not? I will be speaking with your head of house about this incident. Be assured, you WILL be spending the next several days in detentions."
Draco looked decidedly less happy at this, but as they left the field, was alternating between being upset at his detentions and happily telling everyone how Harry would be gone by morning. Later that afternoon, Staros and Draco met up with Professor Flitwick.
"Draco, I cede the bet to you," said Staros. "While we couldn't find out definitively who was a better flier since class ended so early, you showed some skill out there so I'll call it a win for you."
Draco looked pleased with himself and snatched up the coins Staros counted out for him. As he and his cronies walked away, Professor Flitwick looked sideways at Staros.
"From what I near, Mister Marcus," said the little man, "Harry's skill outshone Mister Malfoy's. Why give him the win?"
Staros chuckled. "Honestly professor, the bet didn't even matter. I just wanted him to shut up about it for at least a couple days. Harry might fly circles around Draco, but for a bit, I was able sleep in my dorm without all the noise."
Professor Flitwick smiled and gave a little chuckle himself as he walked away.