A/N: I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

Malfoy's Plan Fails

Saturday came around and Harry visited his dad in his living quarters. It's not normally recommended, but every once in a while when a child or grandchild of a professor attends Hogwarts, they can visit their parent outside of class as long as they get back to their dorms before curfew.

"So, what brings you here, Harry?" James asked. "Your scar hurting again?"

"No! Can't I visit my dad?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," James said.

Just then green flames shot up from James' fire place as Sirius stumbled out.

"Sorry about being late," Sirius said. "Fudge is having me work overtime to resolve the—uh, you know what, forget it."

"Uncle Padfoot!" Harry hugged Sirius.

"Hey Harry," Sirius greeted.

"Sirius, what brings you here?" James asked.

"What? Can't I visit my godson/nephew?" Sirius asked.

"If you had permission, which the last I checked, I haven't arrange one," James said.

"Oh come on, Prongs. When we were Harry's age, we broke rules all the time," Sirius said. "Besides, it's not like they're going to fire you, and as far as Fudge knows, I'm checking up on my anonymous source."

"Uh, you know what… it's getting late, I better head to Gryffindor Tower," Harry said. As curious as he was what the two of them were talking about, Harry knew better than to stick around his dad's and uncle Padfoot's argument.

"Okay, see you next week," Sirius said.

"Hey wait a second!" James responded as Harry left the living space.

Harry headed to Gryffindor tower on his own. However when he turned the corner, Harry accidentally ran into his least favorite professor.

"Potter!" Snape sneered. "What are you doing out in this hour?"

Harry bit back the need to say incoherent words.

"What is that?" Snape asked.

"Nothing, sir. I was just heading back to Gryffindor tower," Harry said.

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"If you must know, I was visiting my dad," Harry said. "There are no rules against that, is there?"

Snape glared at Harry. "Two points off Gryffindor for cheekiness, Potter. I suggest you go back to your tower before I take more points off you."

Harry didn't argued as he left.

…

After Harry's visit, things went back to normal. At least, as normal it can get for Harry with a school rival and a professor that hates your guts. At least Harry only have to deal with both of them at the same time once a week.

There was one thing Harry was looking forward was flying lessons. Even though it was unnecessary for Harry to take it, it was still mandatory for first years to at least take part in the first lessons—which is basically learning how to lift yourself off the ground with the broom, basic maneuvers, and landing. After that, if the students feel they can handle learning the more advance forms of flying a broom, they can take further lessons, or if they don't or already know how to fly, they don't have to take any more lessons.

But the reason Harry was really looking forward to it was to earn the points Snape deducted from Gryffindor House. If there was one thing Harry excel at best is flying, and hopefully he can use it to earn his points himself instead of hearing Hermione talk about having to gain back the points he lost.

At least, that was what Harry had hoped until he spotted a notice pinned up in Gryffindor common room that made everyone groaned. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday—and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

The only thing that brighten Harry's mood was that the lessons brought up a lot of talking about flying, and not just with Malfoy—who often boast about how he once narrowly escaped muggles in helicopters.

Seamus Finnigan was telling how he spend most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broom stick. Ron also had tales to tell about his times flying on Charlie's old broomsticks. Even Harry shared some stories he had of flying

The lessons also brought up a lot of talking about Quidditch—or in Ron's and Dean's case—arguing about the difference between Quidditch and Soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was able to fly, but Harry understood Dean's point about soccer.

Often Harry would watch a game of soccer with the Dursleys, after James convinced them that as long as they don't make things to emotional, Harry shouldn't do any accidental magic. Although Harry would admit, the only reason he agreed to watch it was because it was the only few times his uncle Vernon would yell or complain about something else that didn't involve him.

However, the annoying part wasn't Malfoy's boasting, but Hermione's insistence in reading Quidditch Through the Ages—that she got from the school's library, hoping it would give her some ideas on how to fly.

"Should you tell her that Quidditch Through the Ages won't help her learn to fly or should I?" Harry asked.

"Nah, let her discover it herself," Ron said.

"Come on, Ron, even you have to admit this is just pathetic," Harry stated as Hermione read the book out loud to any muggle born or wizard who never flew before who would listen. Which unfortunately included Neville, who was so nervous about flying, he started taking notes to everything Hermione was saying.

Fortunately, no one had to speak up as Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of mail.

Harry got the usual weekly letter from Sirius and/or Remus and sometimes even Tonks who would write to him if she got bored, and homemade treats from Andromeda and Molly Weasley. But this time Hedwig also dropped something off—a small package with a note attach from Remus.

Harry,
I never been into the sport, but I remember your father having troubles keeping his glasses on and seeing through rain when he joined Gryffindor the House Quidditch team, so I been saving up for this so you won't have to worry about the same problems. Don't worry about rain as they're enchanted to repel rain.
Sincerely,
Uncle Moony

Harry opened the package and saw they were World Quidditch Organization approved Quidditch Goggles—which look like those strap around goggles muggles used. When Harry took off his glasses and tried them on, he found he could see perfectly through them as if he was wearing his own glasses.

Harry quickly took them off and wrote a thank you letter to Remus.

…

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, Neville, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lessons. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

Since they were just learning the basics, Harry decided not to wear his goggles, but did keep them just in case.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty brand new Nimbus 2000s broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Each broom was sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top. And there were twenty of them—one for each student, and Harry wouldn't be surprise if there were eight more in storage—making a total of twenty-eight—one for each player that can play Quidditch in each house.

"Wow, Harry, your dad really out did himself," Ron said.

"Dad and Uncle Padfoot," Harry said.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broom. Come on, hurry up."

Harry stood next to his Nimbus Two Thousand.

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

"UP!" everyone shouted.

As expected, Harry's broom jumped right into his hands and Harry caught it with ease. However, he was one of few whose broom did that. Hermione's Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all.

"Command it like you're the boss, and don't show fear," Harry offered, "A broom is like a horse, it can sense if you're anxious or scared, and it won't respond if you show it."

"UP!"

This time both brooms shot up to Hermione's and Neville's hands.

"Ten points to Mr. Potter," said Madam Hooch, "For aiding a classmate with their brooms."

Of course this caused Malfoy to sneer at Harry. Harry just gain back the points he lost last week and then some.

Hermione looked at Harry amazed and confused.

"Somethings you can't learn from a book," Harry reminded her.

All the other Gryffindors started taking Harry's advice, and eventually some struggling Slytherins gave it a shot, and in no time, everyone had a broom in their hand.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Madam Hooch complimented Harry on getting it right on the first try, and much to Harry's and Ron's delight, told Malfoy off of the act he'd been doing it wrong.

Neville as still shaking with fear and nervous.

"Calm down, Neville," Harry said, "Just watch what I do."

Neville nodded.

"Now, when I blow the whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—one—"

She blew her whistle and every student kicked off the ground. Many were wobbly, including Neville, but Harry kept himself balanced and demonstrated how. Neville copied his movements and steadied himself. Then they leaned slightly and landed on the ground safely.

They done this several times until Madam Hooch was satisfied with the results.

"That be it for the day. Anyone else who wants further lessons, see me after class. And any first years interested in playing on their House teams see me after class as well," Madam Hooch said. "Other than that you're dismissed.

Madam Hooch left and Malfoy stormed toward Harry.

"I bet you found that pleasing. Famous Harry Potter, can't even fly a broom without showing off."

"I wasn't showing anyone off," Harry argued. "I was helping my friends. That's what friends do. Which is more than I can say about your bodyguards?"

"I don't need blood traitors for friends," Malfoy said. "And I certainly don't need bodyguards to take you on."

"Is that a challenge?" Harry asked.

"That's right! Tonight. Wizard's duel. Wands only—no contact," Malfoy said. "I'll show you just how much more a significant a pureblood like myself is over a Half-Blood like yourself."

"We'll see about that," Harry said. "Ron's my second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlock."

When Malfoy left, a voice spoke out. "Excuse me."

They looked to see it was Hermione.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying—"

"Relax, I'm not dueling Malfoy," Harry said.

Hermione blinked. "You're not?"

"No way. Even I'm not that stupid enough to fall or Malfoy's trap to get me introuble," Harry said.

"How do you know it's a trap?" Ron asked.

"Please. Two first years with only two weeks of lessons going at each other at a duel. Even Malfoy isn't stupid enough that it wouldn't end well for either of us," Harry said. "Now if you excuse me, I got to go talk to Madam Hooch about letting me be Gryffindor's Seeker before my dad preps for his next class."

…

That night Malfoy was wondering out of Slytherin House common Room in the dungeons to hope to find Filch at the third floor corridor. Unfortunately, when he got there, instead of Filch was James Potter.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy growl.

"That should be my question, Mr. Malfoy," James said.

"I was looking for Filch," Malfoy growled, "I was told he's often found here."

"Well, unfortunately for you, Filch has a night off," James said. "Recommended by the Headmaster after having to chase the Weasley Twins and First Years away from the Third Floor Corridor. So what can I help you with."

Malfoy wanted to yell but then he got a better idea. "Well, if you must know, Professor, your son is about to break the rules."

James rose an eye brow. "Oh?"

"Harry is about to duel a Slytherin in the Trophy room at midnight tonight."

"Is he now? Who may I ask is he dueling?"

Malfoy paled. "What does it matter?"

"Well if I know who he's dueling, I can make sure both are punished," James said.

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "I don't know, I just overhead Potter talking to his Weasley friend about it."

"Huh? Well, I'll take your word for it, and I'll check it out," James said.

"Thank you professor," Malfoy responded reluctantly.

"Oh, and Malfoy, I'll be expecting you for Saturday Night Detention," James said.

"What?" Malfoy responded, "What for?"

"For challenging a fellow student to an unauthorized duel and then lying to a professor about it," James said, "You see, Malfoy—Harry had already come to me and McGonagall about your duel earlier today. So again, see you Satuday night, and be grateful that's all you're getting."

Malfoy's ears turned pink as he stormed off.

…Gryffindors Common Room…

"So you're on the team?" Neville asked.

"Not yet. Madam Hooch is going to give me private practice this Saturday with her too see if I'm suited for the Quidditch Field, then if she approves, I can join," Harry said.

"But you're basically in," Ron said.

Harry nodded. "Just don't go announcing it until it's official."

Neville and Ron nodded.