First Flying Lesson

It was an early Thursday morning when Harry decided to use the secret passage from in the Hufflepuff common room for the first time.

He had been up for hours after waking from a nightmare, lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling and straining to remember anything from the dream. But when the clock finally flipped to six 'o' clock, he decided that he need to move. He needed to run.

Slipping out of bed, Harry dressed as quickly as he could, trying not to disturbing his still sleeping roommate, Neville snoring lightly and turning to his side while the he slipped on a light long sleeved shirt and trousers. He decided to forgo trainers, he didn't really need that after all.

Sneaking out of the bedroom and down to the common room, he took a moment to check for anybody wandering around before he went to the cupboard that Sprout had directed him to. Placing a hand on the door, Harry couldn't help but shiver. Even though it was six years ago, he could still remember being forced into the dark, tiny cupboard that had been his bedroom, with the only light from a tiny vent on the door and a dim light-bulb. With Uncle Vernon pounding on the door, and Aunt Petunia screaming at him. At least Dudley escaped their cruel teachings before it was too late.

Rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the shiver, Harry opened the cupboard door. It was nothing like his old cupboard, dark and filled with dusty odd ends and a baby mattress. It lit up - magically - the moment he opened it by a tiny round bulb in the ceiling, and was filled only with a few board games, a couple of blankets, and extra throw pillows. He breathed a sigh of relief, no longer nervous.

Closing the door, and flinching for a moment when it went dark again, Harry reached out and knocked on the back wall. 'Shave and a haircut, two bits.'

With a slight pause, the wall shimmered a light gold before sliding away and revealing a slightly sloped dirt tunnel that was tall and wide enough for two people to walk side by side with no problem, again magically lit by lights every five feet. Grinning, Harry bounded into the tunnel, the wall sliding closed behind him while he quickly made his way down the passage way.

After a ten minute walk, Harry found himself at the end, with a short stone staircase leading up to a hatch that must have been hidden in the ground. With a push, it opened with a low groan and a burst of light, and with delight he found himself at the edge of the forest, at the base of a tree.

Closing the hatch and making sure that he memorized the location, Harry made sure no one saw before he raced into the forest, leaping into the air and transforming in the blink of an eye before landing with a thud. He shook his fur out and stretched, relived to be in his wolf form again even though it had been less then a week.

With a yip of happiness, Harry turned to run, but paused when he heard a booming bark. Looking back to see the source, he tilted his head at the large, black dog bounding its way towards him from the large cabin nearby, head tilted in confusion as it stared at him.

"Who is you?" The dog sniffed him, circling him. "Friend? Not friend?"

"Friend," reassured Harry, sniffing back. "I'm Harry. Who are you?"

"Master calls me Fang," barked the dog. "I protect Master and forest and children. You smell strange. Not wolf, not children." He growled and gave another booming bark. "What are you?"

"Oi, Fang, whatca doing, barkin' so early!" Out of the nearby cabin lumbered Hagrid, rubbing his eyes with a heavy hand. "Get back in here, ya mangy -" He blinked. "What the - Oh! Harry, is that you?" He knelt down at his dogs side, petting him till he became calm. "Blimey, I've never seen ya in your wolf form, Dumbledore's only told me about it - is that really you, Harry?"

Barking in confirmation, Harry stepped up and sat in front of him, tail wagging as Hagrid carefully petted him on the head, with more gentleness then he expected. "Well Harry, feel free to come up for a cuppa whenever you'd like, and be careful out in the forest - especially of the centaurs, sometimes they ain't friendly."

Licking Hagrid's hand, Harry ran back towards the forest, wondering what he might see today.

Almost two hours later he was staggering back through the passage way, knocking on the wall as he yawned. The run had exhausted him in a good way, but now he need a good shower to not only get him cleaned up - his feet were caked with dirt - but wake him up in time for classes. It looked like he was missing breakfast though, by the way his stomach growled.

Straining his hearing, Harry left the cupboard and stepped into the empty common room, heading to the bathrooms to get a shower.

Fifteen minutes later, running a hand through his damp hair, Harry was racing out of the common room, ready to run down to meet everyone for Double DADA with Ravenclaw, but came to a halt in front of the portrait of fruit. He wasn't going to have time to get breakfast, so...

Feeling a little foolish, Harry reached up and tickled the pear, just like Maddie showed them. It giggled, and then swung open like a door.

As Harry stepped inside, he was overwhelmed by the smells of different food, the clanging sound of dishes, and the house-elves that were running about. They were half his size, with large floppy ears and round eyes the size of tennis balls. They were all wearing pillowcases, snow white with the Hogwarts symbol in the corner. Though why they were wearing pillowcases and not clothes bewildered him.

One of them stopped in front of him, smiling brightly. "Dee Dee is head cook, young master, what can we gets for you?"

"Hi, um," said Harry. "I missed breakfast, and I was wondering -"

"We will gets you breakfast!" squeaked the house-elf, and rushed off. A minute later, it appeared with a plate of fried egg on toast, two links of sausage, and a goblet of milk. "Here is breakfast, young master! Dee Dee has brought you breakfast!"

"Thank you, Dee Dee," said Harry as he shoved the two links in his mouth, thinking about hurrying to class.

Her large eyes watered up, and she cried, "Young master has thanked me! What is young masters name?"

"Err... Harry Potter?" he managed to say with food still in mouth, reaching for the milk so he could swallow.

"Oh!" Dee Dee started to sobbing, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. "Harry Potter has thanked Dee Dee! Young Master Harry Potter is so wonderful!"

"Harry Potter?" The other house-elves suddenly were circling around him, chanting his name and staring at him with wide eyes. "It is Harry Potter! Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts!"

"I'm - I'm sorry." Harry grabbed the fried egg and toast and backed up towards the portrait door. "I need to go - I'm going to be late."

Somehow, he made it out of the kitchens and ran. He couldn't believe it - even the house-elves paid him too much attention. He didn't have time to think about that right now though, he had class to get to.

Ten minutes and a lot of shortcuts later, Harry made it to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, reaching it before anyone else did, though he could hear his Hufflepuff House mates and the Ravenclaws making their way, chattering the entire way. As he finished his last bit of eggs and toast, he wrinkled his nose at the powerful stench coming from the room. His teacher was rumored to be so afraid of vampires after a trip to Romania that he hung garlic everywhere in the classroom and even stuffed it in his purple turban. It was bad enough that every time Harry entered the room he was assaulted by a terrible headache. Which would have been bad if he was trying to enjoy the lesson, but Quirrell's stuttering made it possible to understand him.

"Morning, Harry," said Neville as the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws joined him. "Where did you disappear to so early?"

"I went for a walk - couldn't sleep," said Harry half-truthfully as they streamed into the classroom, each House sitting on their opposite sides. "Even after that late night lesson in the Astronomy tower." Truthful, it was one of his nicer classes - while everyone else complained of being up so late, Harry loved looking up at the sky, at the stars Elysia had taught him to make sure he never got lost during a night run, and the ones he stared at when finished a run and relaxed. "What's going on with you?" Neville looked a little ill.

He shrugged. "Nervous about flying lessons today, I guess," he admitted.

"You'll do fine, Nev," reassured Harry, though he had almost forgotten that flying lessons were today. "Its just another lesson, besides, you'll probably do a right better job them me - the only brooms I've seen never flew, just cleaned."

Both of them laughing a little bit as they sat in their seats, Harry cringed as the pain hit, but he tried to hide it. It wasn't so bad this time, just a dull but constant throb in his forehead.

"G-G-Good morning, c-c-class," stuttered Quirrell as he greeted them, and Harry tried not to groan as his pain increased. "Please o-o-open your books to p-p-page fifteen..."

"You feeling alright, Harry?"

Rubbing his temples as they sat down in the Great Hall for lunch, Harry smiled as best he could and nodded. "Yah, just a bit of a headache. I'll be alright once I get something to eat." In fact, the headache was dulling away to just a slight ache, almost unnoticeable.

The first years at each table were all chatting excitedly - all of them had flying lesson today. Hufflepuff was paired with Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw with Slytherin right after them. Everyone was bragging on how they had flown before, even though it apparently wasn't allowed, or where nervous having never been near a flying broom before. And out of all of them, only one had her nose stuck in a book, speed reading so she could get as much information as she could before lunch was over.

"Feeling better about flying, Nev?" asked Harry, eat half a sandwich in two large bites.

"Not really, no," said Neville with a shake of his head. "I guess its a bit silly, to be afraid of heights. I mean, its just," he gulped, "well, really."

"You could talk to the teacher about that," suggested Harry, finishing off the sandwich and reaching for a pot of fresh tea. His Housemates thought him a little strange for drinking tea so often when he could have pumpkin juice. "She might have some suggestions."

Shrugging, Neville stirred his spoon his soup. He had been quiet this morning, so stressed about the lesson that he had even started stuttering when Quirrell asked him a question.

"Buck up, it'll be alright," said Harry. "Just remember that you'll still do better then me."

Smiling halfheartedly, Neville gave Harry a light punch in the shoulder. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime."

"Please, give me back my book."

Laughter erupted from he Gryffindor table, and Harry glanced back towards them. The girl that had been reading before was standing now, obviously nervous but her head held high as she held out a shaky hand. "Please, just give it back."

"Give it back, give it back," repeated the one standing in front of her with a whine, hold a book by its front cover between two fingers and dangling in front of her. "Wow, so needy." And the three behind them laughed again as the girl reached for her book, only to be pushed back a few steps.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Harry was standing, marching over to the group and planting himself in front of the bully. "Leave her alone," he growled. All he could remember was being bullied when he was young, and how nobody ever helped him.

The bully blinked, surprised by his sudden presence. It was a girl, Gryffindor, with dark brown eyes that sparked like a thunder storm, flashing at him angrily, standing out brightly against light brown skin. Pitch black hair hair had been pulled back into a messy pony that showed her mass of curly hair, leaving only a few strands around her sharp face. The boys behind her were also Gryffindor, one of them the boy that had lost his rat on the train, Weasley he thought the boys surname was.

After a moment, the bully sneered. "Well, well." She looked behind Harry to the girl she was teasing. "Looks like Harry Potter's come to rescue you, Granger. Or maybe he just wants your big brain for homework."

"Just give her back her book and leave her alone," said Harry with a slight snap.

Raising an eyebrow, unfazed by him, the girl swerved her arm over the table and dropped the book with a 'splat!' into a bowl of mashed potatoes, knocking a goblet of pumpkin juice over it as well. "Oops," she said dryly, ignoring Harry's look of anger and the Granger girls gasp of shock. "So terribly sorry about that. But that wasn't anything important, was it?"

"What's your problem?" asked Harry as Granger snapped the book up, frantically using napkins to try and clean the cover. "What did she do to you?"

"Just trying to help her get that fat nose out of a book every once in awhile," said the girl sweetly and with a half smile. "She's not going to make any friends like that." She turned, waving a hand towards the boys. "Come on, guys, lets go. See you later, Potter."

Staring at the group until they left the Great Hall, Harry turned to the Granger, who was still desperately trying to clean her book, which was doing nothing but make it worse. "Hey, are you alright?"

Sniffling, Granger nodded. "I'm alright, I just..." A tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away. "I'm fine."

"Hermione!" Dudley suddenly appeared, a frown of confusion on his face as he moved to Grangers side. "Harry? What happened?"

"Some girl ruined her book," Harry answered when Granger simply shook her head, unable to say anything for a moment, "while her cronies just stood by."

"Dark hair, grey eyes?" asked Dudley while he took out his wand. "Here, relax, Hermione. Reparo! Aww, dang it, Reparo! Why isn't this working?"

"Reparo," said Hermione, her own wand in hand and a little calmer. Within a few seconds, the mashed potatoes and pumpkin juice staining the book had vanished, and it dried in a matter of seconds, looking the same as it did before. Relieved, Hermione flipped through the pages, checking for any damage she might have missed.

"Yah, actually."

"Raven Labelle," answered Dudley with a scoff. "She's somehow managed to make a gang with the three other Gryffindor boys in less then a week, and one of her favorite targets has been Hermione." He shook his head. "And Hermione refuses to tell any of the teachers about it."

"Its not a big deal," piped up Hermione, standing up with the book clutched to her chest. "Come on, Dudley, lets go - we're going to miss our next class."

"Fine, coming." Dudley, stood up and then extending a hand towards Harry. "Thanks for helping her out. Catch you later?"

"Yah." Harry shook his hand, a grin growing on his lips. He never thought he'd see the day when his cousin would be protecting someone from bully, and not the actual bully. "Catch you later."

Finally, three 'o' clock rolled around, and the excited group of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors gathered in the courtyard outside, eager to learn how to fly on brooms, some for the first time, while a few bragged about flying on brooms since they were little. Still, all of them stared at the two rows of brooms laying on the ground, as if expecting them to jump up and zoom around, but instead were perfectly still.

Their teacher stalked towards them, stopping in front of them with her hands on her hips. She was like a hawk, eying them quickly with narrow yellow eyes and her short silvery hair ruffled lightly in the breeze. "... Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Everyone quickly picked a broom, and Harry glanced down at his. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. Was this actually safe to ride on? He glanced around - only a few people actually seemed nervous - mainly Neville and Hermione Granger.

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

"UP" everyone shouted.

To his sheer amazement, Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, with a satisfying smack that made him jump back in surprise. Blinking, he glanced around to realize that it was one of the few that had jumped. Dudley's had, to his cousin's joy, along with Raven Labelle's, who smirked in triumph. Some just hovered in mid air, wobbling, one went straight up to smack the red-head Weasley in the head, while Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Of course, he had never even seen a real horse, so he wasn't one to judge.

With a nod to the few that had done well, 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. She paused at Harry and nodded, pleased. "Very good, Mr. Potter, you're quite the natural. Now!" She turned back to the rest of the class. "When I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," she instructed. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle now. Three, two -"

And suddenly, Neville, who was still nervous and jumpy and frightened of being the only one left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips. He gasped, turning pale white as he went higher.

"Neville, no!" cried out Harry.

"Come back, boy!" shouted their teacher, but Neville was rising straight up, like a bullet shot out of a gun - twelve feet, and then twenty feet in their. Madam Hooch drew her wand, try to cast a spell to perhaps slow him down, but Neville was bobbing around to much, she couldn't get a clear shot. Then Harry saw him look down at the ground, saw him gasp again and his eyes roll back before he slipped sideways off the broom.

Before Madam Hooch could cast a spell to catch him, Neville hit the ground with a nasty thud and a loud crack, a heap on the grass. His broomstick was still rising higher and drifting lazily toward the Forbidden Forest, but Harry was rushing over to his friend, the flying instructor right behind him.

"Neville, are you alright?" asked Harry, kneeling next to him as he groaned in pain. Madam Hooch was next to him, her face as white as Neville's as she carefully turned him over and examining him, taking notice how Neville was clutching his right wrist.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Maybe a sprained ankle. Come on, boy, it's going to be all right; up you get." Holding up a hobbling Neville, she turned to the rest of the class, eyes narrowed. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Now, come on, Mr. Longbottom"

"Sorry," whispered a tear-streaked Neville, shaking.

"Shush, its alright, dear, we'll get you better," reassured Madam Hooch as she lead him away.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Labelle burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she did and gaining the attention of everyone around her. "Oh man, did you see his face? I thought he was going to piss himself."

The Gryffindor boys with her laughed, while the other girls giggled a little, save Granger and Dudley, who both frowned at their Housemates cruel laughter.

"Just shut it," said Harry as he stepped forward, and the Gryffindor turned her attention on him, sneering. "Leave him alone, he hasn't done anything to you."

"Oh, look at that," said Labelle, stepping up to him with her hands on her hips. "Potter's going to defend his little boyfriend. Oh!" She snatched her hand out, ripping off the necklace Elysia gave him before he knew what happened. "What this, mm?" she asked, the wolf charm swinging in the air. "A pretty piece of jewelry from Longbottom?"

"Give that here, Labelle," said Harry in a low growl, holding out his hand.

"I'll just leave it somewhere nice for you," said Labelle as she stepped back, swinging the necklace back and forth in a taunting way. "Maybe... at the bottom of the lake?"

"I said give it here!" Harry yelled, but Labelle had jumped back. She yelled, "UP!" and the nearest broom smack into her hand, and within seconds she had mounted it and was in the air, circling above his head. The Gryffindor boys cheered her on.

"You'll have to come and get it, Potter!" Labelle said with a laugh.

Blood pounding in his ears in anger, Harry grabbed his broom from off the ground, quickly mounting it just like Madam Hooch had taught them.

"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble!"

"Go get her, Harry," cheered on Dudley instead.

Ignoring them both, Harry kicked hard against the ground and up he soared - up, up, up! Air tugged at his hair, and his robes whipped behind him, and in a rush of joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught, just like transforming — this was easy, it was wonderful! In fact, this felt like he was running, even though his feet were not longer touching the ground. With a grin, he pulled his 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 Dudley.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Labelle in midair. She looked a bit stunned, but it quickly disappeared, replaced with another smirk. "Well, at least you're not horrible."

"Give it here," Harry called out, "or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" She cocked her head to one side. "Like I said, you'll have to come and get it." And then she zoomed forward and passed him, and without even thinking about it, Harry turned with a twist and followed her.

They zoomed over the grounds, darting back and forth like a wild game of tag. Below, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs cheered for their respective Housemates, and even more students started appearing, staring up in shock at the strange game and joining in on the cheering. But even though he knew that this was not a real game, that he was trying to get back the necklace his mother had given him, he could help but get a thrill when Labelle tried to lose him, shooting downwards and skimming along the grass, and with Hary just behind her, following her every move as she rocketed back into the air. She was good in her own right.

Harry kept pushing and pushing the broom to go faster, and slowly, he was starting to catch up. Maybe Labelle saw that, or maybe she was just tired of the game. Either way, she lifted her arm, tossing the necklace away like it was a piece of garbage towards the center of the lake, which would swallow it up and perhaps never give it back.

It fell towards the water in a slow arc, like Harry was watching it in slow motion. Before really thinking about it, he leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down, gathering speed in a steep dive, the wind whistling in his ears and mingling with the screams of people watching. And stretching out his hand as he was just a foot from the water, the edges of his robe skimming the water, he caught it.

A grin on his his face, he pulled his broom straight just in time, and letting go only when he was above solid ground did he toppled gently onto the grass, with the necklace clutched safely in his fist. He saw through his lopsided glasses people cheering, and Labelle landing nearby, a look of shock on her face which quickly turned to anger.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Cringing as the shout cut through the shouts of his classmates, Harry stood up to meet Professor McGonagall as she came marching at him, her usually tightly pulled back hair a mess and her cheeks bright pink, as if she had been running. His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. He was in so much trouble.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts!" Professor McGonagall was almost speechless, sputtering, her glasses flashed furiously. "How dare you, you might have broken your neck - you might have drowned!"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor!"

"Be quiet, Miss Bones."

"But Labelle -"

"That's enough, Mr. Dursley. Labelle, I want you in your rooms, immediately, I'll deal with you later. Potter, follow me. Now."

Twenty minutes later and now in office of McGonagall, Harry stared at his dangling feet and played with necklace still in hand, trying hard not to look at the Head of Gryffindor House as she scribbled at parchment, the sound of the scratching quill the only sound in the room. Neither one of had spoken since she dragged him inside, only stopping to have a Prefect that looked like an older version of Weasley fetch Sprout and someone called Tyler.

Harry gulped at the thought of facing two teachers - he was in so much trouble.

A moment later, there was a knock at the door, and after a word from McGonagall, Sprout entered, along with an older teen from Hufflepuff. She look about fifteen, tall, all legs, with dark blue hair that was pulled up into a mess bun and held there with a pencil, her sharp black eyes staring at him, taking him in with a mixture of curiosity and thoughtfulness as she pushed her squared glasses up her nose.

"Hello, Pomona, please, sit down - you too, Miss Tyler."

"Hello, Minerva - is Harry in trouble?" asked Sprout as she and the girl sat, his Head of House glancing at him in worry. Harry squirmed in his seat.

"Yes and no," answered McGonagall. "But let me tell you first that it seems Neville Longbottom panicked during flying lessons this afternoon and fell, breaking his wrist. Madam Hooch took him immediately to the hospital wing, and I've received a note from Madam Pomfrey tell me and he's fine and recovering from the scare in the infirmary."

"Poor boy - I'll be sure to visit him and make sure he's alright," murmured Sprout.

"During that time, it seems that one of my students, Raven Labelle, taunt Mr. Potter here into flying around the grounds and even over the lake, even though I'm sure Madam Hooch told all of the students to stay on the ground while she escorted Longbottom to the hospital wing."

"What?" Sprout turned to Harry. "Harry, is this true?" When he nodded, she asked gently. "Will you tell me what happened?"

"Labelle was be awful about Neville falling off his broom, and when I told her to leave him alone, she stole my necklace." Harry held up said object. "And then she hopped on a broom and took off. I had to go after her, Professor Sprout - my mum gave this to me, and she was about to throw it in the lake."

Sighing, Sprout said, "I understand, Harry, but then you should have come to a teacher. We would have sorted it out and gotten your necklace back." She turned to McGonagall. "We aren't going to expel him like Hooch is always threatening, are we?"

"No, I don't think so," chuckled McGonagall. "Besides, I think you'll want to keep him for Quidditch."

"Pardon?" said Sprout, and Harry snapped his head towards the Head of Gryffindor, confused. What was she talking about?

"You should have seen him fly, Pomona," said McGonagall with a hint of glee. "Charlie Weasley couldn't do better! He's a natural born Seeker!" She turned to Harry. "I assume that was your first time on a broom, Potter?"

Harry nodded. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs. "Yes, ma'am."

"He caught that necklace after a fifty foot dive, and didn't get a scratch, didn't get wet! If he was in Gryffindor, I would have him on the team in an instant!" said McGonagall with a wistful sigh. "But, he's your House, Pomona,so its up to you - though I do wish you would put him on the team, I don't think I can bare another year of Snape rubbing that Quidditch Cup in my face again - I don't care who wins anymore, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor!"

"You want him on the team?" asked Sprout with surprise. "To play? But he's only a first year - isn't there a rule about that?"

"I think Dumbledore will be willing to make an exception," McGonagall said, brushing it off. "We've done it before - though I do admit, it has been awhile. What do you think, Miss Tyler? Harry, this is Laini Tyler, the Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team."

Tyler had been on the edge of her seat every since the idea of Harry being in Quidditch was brought up, just waiting for McGonagall to address her so she could jump out of her chair and rush over to Harry, who froze as she circled him like a bird of prey, her mouth set in a frown of concentration while her sharp eyes glancing over every inch of him. "After a long moment, she finally grinned. "He's perfect - small and lithe - the perfect build of a Seeker. You've only flow the broom once, Potter? Amazing." She turned to Sprout. "I'll have to test him just to be sure, but I think he could work! Cass wanted to retire this year, but I told she couldn't till we found her a replacement, she'll be thrilled!"

"Well... I guess its alright," said Sprout with a sigh, while Laini Tyler cheered in delight. "Just make sure its alright with Dumbledore. And we'll still have to give out punishment to Harry - it shouldn't be right that he break the rules and only get rewarded."

"Oh, yes, right." McGonagall cleared her throat. "Potter, for disobeying Madam Hooch and flying when she expressively said not to, twenty points from Hufflepuffs. Does that seem fair, Pomona?"

"Good enough," said Sprout, shaking her head even as she smiled. "And Tyler, while I know you are eager to get Mr. Potter to the Quidditch field, how about we wait till tomorrow? It's been a long day."

"I want to hear you're training hard, Potter," said McGonagall, "or I may change my mind about not punishing you harder." Then she suddenly smiled. "Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

Authors Note: Its later then I expected, but after finishing up a show and getting through a few holidays, graduations, and a baby shower, I've finally got it done. Sorry about the promise of two chapters a month, I'm trying, really I am. But, I'm not in the upcoming summer show, so maybe I'll finally get some time to write now. Yay! Hope you guys like the chapter, and let me know if you see an errors that I might have missed. Again, wrote this in a bit of a rush.

Love, Hanna