Chapter 7: Flying Lesson

Albus was almost getting used to school. He got used to staircases that suddenly moved; Peeves the Poltergeist, who kept blowing loud raspberries while still invisible; unpleasant meetings with Malfoy during Double Transfiguration; and weekly visits to Hagrid's hut. Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris were always on the lookout for trouble-making students, and Albus usually wished that he had a caretaker who could do magic properly, not Filch the Squib, who spent hours scrubbing a place, while someone else could have waved their wand and cleaned it up in seconds.

Albus was admired by any teacher who had taught his father, the famous Harry Potter, but Professor Slughorn admired him most. He heard from his father that Slughorn was picking up talented, famous, and well-connected students in a group informally called the Slug Club, and preparing little dinner parties for them. Albus was definitely picked up, but Slughorn hadn't invited anyone to dinner so far, and everyone spread the same rumors: Slughorn was preparing a large Christmas party during the end of term.

One Friday morning during the end of September, Albus woke up to a buzz of talk downstairs in the common room. As he got out of the dormitory in pajamas, he saw a few Gryffindor first years gathered around the noticeboard. As he went between the students, he saw a pleasant surprise. A sign pinned up to the noticeboard read,

"First year Gryffindors will have their first flying lesson with Madam Hooch on the training grounds, with the first year Slytherins, on ten o'clock, September the sixteenth, i.e., today. You are not allowed to bring your own broomsticks and will have to use the school broomsticks, Shooting Stars. Your Head of House, Rubeus Hagrid, Order of Merlin, Third Class."

Albus was as excited to hear the news as all the other first years. Rose had found a rather interesting book in the library called Quidditch Through the Ages, and she kept giving boring lectures about flying to everyone who would listen, and everyone was relieved when she was interrupted by the arrival of the owl post. After breakfast, the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years went out of the castle and to the training grounds, where Madam Hooch, with yellow eyes like a hawk, was awaiting them, with twenty broomsticks behind her.

"Good morning, students!" said Madam Hooch cheerfully.

"Good morning, Madam Hooch!" came the students' reply.

"Thank you, students. Now, I want each of you to get behind me, to the left of a broomstick."

Albus went to the left of a rather moldy-looking Shooting Star, standing between Daniel Jordan and Malfoy.

"That's the ticket! Now, I want you to stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!'"

Only a few people were successful. Albus' broom came up to his hand immediately, and so did, much to Albus' disappointment, Malfoy's. Rose, Thomas Parkinson, and John Finnigan succeeded, too, but they were the only others who did.

"Tut-tut," tutted Madam Hooch. "Only five out of twenty managed to get their brooms in their—oh, good, Mr. Jordan, that makes it six. Still, I expected more. Now, you mount your broom, carefully take your feet off the ground, hover in the air for a moment, and come down by leaning forward little by little. On three—one, two, three—GO!"

Albus mounted his moldy broom, which was hovering exactly at his waist, and carefully took his left foot off the grass, and then, even more carefully, his right foot. For a few seconds, he hovered in the air, flushing with happiness; so far, only Malfoy and Rose had done it. Then, he leaned slowly downward, and landed ever so lightly back on the grass. Malfoy and Rose did so, too, and soon, so did John and Parkinson.

"Excellent, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Finnigan, Ms. Weasley, and Mr. Parkinson!" said Madam Hooch. "I am impressed! Well, Mr. Potter, I expected you to do it beautifully, both of your parents were naturally brilliant Quidditch players! You first fly around the place, and then, one by one, the others. I'll be watching you carefully from the ground to help you if you fall."

Albus took the Shooting Star. Then, he went a few yards away from the students, mounted his broomstick, and, taking a deep breath, took off very carefully.

It was wonderful. Albus rose up about fifteen feet, and, gripping the broom tightly in both hands, flew around the place, with the cool air whipping his face, doing loops and circling oak trees. The crowd below applauded and cheered and, only in the case of the Slytherins, booed, until after a few minutes, he could hear Madam Hooch saying, "That's enough, Potter, could you come down, please?" Albus leaned over slightly, losing altitude and speed, until he stopped three feet below the ground and jumped down.

"Fantastic, Mr. Potter! You are guaranteed a place on the Gryffindor Quidditch team next year! Now, who else wants a go?"

Albus could hear Malfoy mutter "Oh, please" before raising his hand.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," said Madam Hooch. "Mount your broom and take off!"

Malfoy flew as good as Albus, though he almost flew into an oak tree once and fell down headfirst six feet into the grass when he tried to land.

"Are you okay, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Madam Hooch as Malfoy spat mud. "Very well, Mr. Finnigan next!"

Soon, John, Rose, Parkinson, and a Slytherin boy named Andrew Zabini had their turn, too, and Rose turned out to be the best flier of them. In a few minutes, the lesson was over.

"All right," said Madam Hooch. "Ten points each to everyone who could fly around the place, meaning thirty to Gryffindor and thirty to Slytherin. You can now put your brooms down and get back inside the castle. I believe you have homework to do."

Albus flushed with happiness as he walked back to the locker room. Next year, he would have a great chance of getting on the Gryffindor team, and by that time, the Nimbus Three Thousand and One would come out, and his father would probably buy it for him; if he didn't, then he would surely buy him a Cleansweep Seventeen. Albus was filled with happiness and pride as he went back in the common room with John Finnigan, Daniel Jordan, William Corner, and Colin Creevey and started on his nine-inch-long Herbology essay about Abyssinian Shrivelfigs.

"You did brilliant, Al," said James, who was sitting behind him, playing Exploding Snap with Louis Weasley, who was in his second year with James. "I saw you from the Black Lake. Me and Louis were playing with the Giant—"

"When you were SUPPOSED to be writing a list of Saturn's moons and what they are most known for?" said Rose sternly.

"Well—er—yes," said James, pretending to be cowering. "Blimey, you scare me as much as Mum does. Anyway, I reckon this deserves a visit to Hagrid."

"No!" shouted Rose irritably. "You've got to finish your Astronomy essay, while Albus and I will finish our Herbology one. No tickling the Giant Squid's tentacles, no visit to Hagrid's, and no admiring James' broom until you finish your homework. And that's that."

"You're a bit like Mum, you know," said James, chuckling, "except that you're even more stern."