The next afternoon, Hogwarts students lined up outside the castle. All four houses faced each other in two rows, one row with Hufflepuff and Slytherin and one with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw with brooms at their feet. Madam Hooch's short hair was slicked back as she walked along the line, her hawk yellow eyes scanning the students.

"Good afternoon, class," said Madam Hooch.

"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch!" they replied.

Madam Hooch stopped and smiled at a student named Amanda before turning to the class. "Welcome to your first flying lesson. Step up to the left side of your broomstick, put your right hand over it, and say 'Up!'"

The students dutifully complied, and Harry's broom immediately flew into his hand with a start.

He looked around in awe as Hermione's broom slowly rose with her chanting "Up... Up... Up... UP!" while Draco smugly grinned when his shot up right away.

Ron finally shouted out "UP!" and his broom flew up and whacked him on the nose.

Harry laughed as Ron rubbed his sore nose before joining in on the laughter.

Madam Hooch slowly walked around the class, her long-robed figure casting its shadow on each student. She stopped behind Neville and motioned for him to grab his broom from the ground and mount it. He nervously obeyed, gripping the handle tightly and standing still like a statue. Madam Hooch raised her whistle to her lips and blew a short but loud whistle. Neville felt a sudden rush of air beneath him, and before he knew it, he was floating off the ground, his feet dangling in midair. Frightened by this sudden change of scenery, he instinctively grabbed onto the handle even tighter.

"Oh..." said Neville, his face drained of all colour. Madam Hooch quickly stepped forward, her brow furrowed with worry. Susan gasped and Hannah began to call out Neville's name. Iris reminded him that they weren't supposed to take off yet. Suddenly,

Neville felt a rush of air beneath him as he lifted into the sky, caught up in an invisible current of wind. He screamed frantically as he careened towards the high tower. Madam Hooch shouted at him to come down this instant, but it was too late; he soared directly through the group, leaving students scrambling out of his path. He flew up and around the tower, seemingly out of control, before coming to a stop against the wall with a loud thud. Madam Hooch hurried over while Harry and the others followed behind her.

Neville screamed as he zipped past an imposing statue at the edge of the pitch. Its arm was outstretched, and in its clutches was a long, sharp spear. Neville's cloak caught on the weapon, yanking him off his broomstick and suspending him in midair. He gawked at the weapon in horror before shouting for help.

He screamed in terror as he fell but was suddenly stopped in midair. Everyone looked at Iris, who was on one knee with her left arm outstretched, her jaw clenched and fingers twitching as she used her connection to the force to hold Neville aloft.

"Harry! Help me brother!" she shouted desperately. "I can't keep him midair forever; if I drop him from this height, he'll likely break his back in addition to the already broken wrist."

Harry raised his left hand and added his own force to that of Iris, taking some pressure off of her.

"Iris, are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied through gritted teeth.

"Okay," said Harry. "On my count, let's lower him gently to the ground."

Iris nodded, and then began counting down: "3…2…1…drop!"

In unison, they slowly lowered Neville to the ground surrounded by a crowd of onlookers.

"Move, move!" Madam Hooch yelled as she raced through the group. All the students scrambled out of her path. Hermione looked on in horror as Neville lay still on the ground after a vicious crack, his limp wrist twisted at an odd angle.

Madam Hooch rushed to his side and helped him up. He groaned in pain, unable to hold back tears of agony. "Oh dear, oh dear," she said sadly, examining his broken wrist with gentle hands and furrowed brows. "Come on now, let's get you up."

Draco's hand darted downward and snatched Neville's Remembrall from the grass. Madam Hooch hustled over to them, grabbed Neville by the arm, and started leading him across the pitch toward the castle.

"Everyone's to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand? If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say, Quidditch," said Madam Hooch sternly.

Once Madam Hooch and Neville were out of sight, Draco turned his attention back to Harry, smirking with malice.

"Did you see his face? Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat arse." Draco and his cronies burst into laughter. Harry took a step forward, ready to confront him.

"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry angrily.

Draco only laughed as he hopped onto his broom and took off soaring in circles around the group. He stopped mid-air several feet above them and called out tauntingly, "How about I leave it on the roof? What's the matter, Potter? Too far for you to reach?"

Harry was ready to take off after him when Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Harry, no way! You heard what Madam Hooch said. Besides, you don't even know how to fly yet!" He ignored her and took off anyway. She groaned and rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "What an idiot."

Iris snorted at Hermione's words and said with a smirk, "Hermione, you just summed up my brother in one sentence. I mean, I say that same phrase to describe several of his actions all the time."

Harry was now in the air across from Draco who waited with a smug expression.

"Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!" said Harry, his knuckles whitening as he clenched the handle of his broom tightly.

"Is that so?" sneered Draco as he twirled around in a 360-degree spin on his broomstick, taunting Harry and throwing the Remembrall into the air.

Harry zoomed after the ball, narrowly missing a nearby tower window from which Professor McGonagall was working. He reached out and seized the Remembrall just before it soared away, sending cheering students running towards him below.

Professor McGonagall appeared in the grounds, her eyes fixing on Harry with a stern expression. "Harry Potter! Follow me," she commanded.

Harry hung his head as he followed her silently, passing Draco who snickered at him along with his goons.

McGonagall and Harry enter Professor Quirrell's classroom to find him teaching, clutching an iguana in his grasp.

"An iguana s-such as this is..." spoke Quirrell ominously.

"You wait here!" commanded McGonagall, throwing a stern look toward Harry before entering the classroom.

"...an essential in-gredient." whispered Quirrell with a shudder.

"Professor Quirrell, excuse me! May I borrow Wood for a moment, please?" inquired McGonagall.

"Oh, y-yes, of course," stammered Quirrell.

Oliver Wood gathers his belongings in haste and makes to leave the classroom, but suddenly an eerie roar interrupts them. All eyes turn towards the door as it quivers on its hinges.

McGonagall clasps her hand onto Wood's shoulder while addressing Harry: "Potter, this is Oliver Wood - your Seeker!"

As Harry and Ron walked through the bustling halls, the silvery figure of Sir Nick and a translucent lady ghost floated past them.

"Have you heard? Harry Potter's the new Gryffindor Seeker - I always knew he'd do well," said Sir Nick with an approving nod.

"Seeker?! But first-years never make their house teams! You must be the youngest Quidditch player in…" started Ron.

"A century, according to McGonagall," finished Harry with a proud smile.

Fred and George then approached from behind and skipped along with Harry and Ron.

"Hey, well done, Harry – Wood's just told us!" said Fred, who was wearing the bright red colours of a Gryffindor Beater like his twin brother George.

George grinned mischievously. "Our job is to make sure that you don't get bloodied up too bad. I can't make any promises, of course. It's a rough game, Quidditch - brutal at times – but no one's died in years; someone will just vanish occasionally," he added in jest.

"But they'll turn up in a month or two!" said George as he Left with Fred George waved goodbye as Fred left with him, leaving Harry and Ron standing by the fountain.

Iris strode confidently up to the group, her boots making sharp tapping sounds on the pavement. She nervously ran a hand through her hair and cleared her throat before speaking.

"Hey, Haza," she said. "Don't forget, we need to be ready to meet Tonks this weekend, and it'd be great if we could have a plan for the Holocron all set by then."

Harry nodded, looking serious. "Yeah, Iri, I know. I'll be there first thing Saturday morning."

Iris smiled in relief and gave them a small wave as she walked away.

Harry and Ron strode across the courtyard, their steps echoing in time with each other. Ron glanced over at Harry, eyes alight with excitement. "Oh, go on, Harry. Quidditch is great. Best game there is! And you'll be great, too!"

At the sound of the word Quidditch, Hermione looked up from her work in sudden understanding and jumped to her feet. She crossed the courtyard to join them. Harry looked between his two friends uncertainly. "But I've never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?"

Hermione smiled knowingly and winked at him. "You won't make a fool of yourself. It's in your blood." She gestured for them to follow her. As they walked towards the trophy case, she continued, "Let me show you." When they reached it, Hermione pointed at a plaque of Quidditch players, one of which listed Harry's father as a Chaser.

Ron was astonished. "Whoa. Harry, you never told me your father was a Chaser!"

"I didn't know," replied Harry in hushed amazement.

The three of them ascended the Grand Staircase, each step creaking ominously with their weight. Ron paused as he felt the railing move inwards under his grip, but Hermione and Harry kept going.

"I'm telling you," said Ron, "It's spooky. She knows more than you do."

"Who doesn't?", Harry chuckled before the staircase shuddered and began to rotate haltingly on its axis. The trio grabbed onto the rails for stability, cries of alarm echoing in the empty chamber.

"Ahh!" shouted Ron.

Hermione gasped, as Harry asks, "What's happening?"

"The staircases change remember?" she replied urgently before it stopped once again, leading into a dimly lit corridor.

Harry tapped Ron on the shoulder, "Let's go this way quickly before it moves again."

With trepidation, they all opened a door and walked into a spooky, dark, and deserted corridor.

"Does anyone feel like we shouldn't be here?", asked Harry.

"We're not supposed to be here," Hermione spoke quietly - her voice barely above a whisper. "This is the 3rd floor. It's forbidden."

Suddenly, a flicker of orange light started to dance along the top of a tall stone support. Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, burst into the scene with a loud meow, catching the group off guard.

Harry yelled out "Let's go!" as the trio started sprinting down the corridor, flames lighting up on each stone support one after another. Harry spotted a door at the end of the hallway and shouted for them to hide there. He grabbed onto the cold metal handle, but it was tightly locked.

"It's locked! We're done for!" cried out Ron in despair.

Hermione pushed her way through before spinning around and pointing her wand at the lock whispering Alohomora. The mysterious word caused a sparkle of yellow light which lifted up the lock, opening the door. She ushered them all inside before Ron asked in amazement "Alohomora? How did you know how to do that?"

Harry replied with an air of knowledge; "Standard Book of Spells, Chapter 7."

Filch and Mrs. Norris appear in the corridor, aided by a lantern for light. Filch speaks softly,

"Anybody here, my dear?" Mrs. Norris meows quietly in response.

"Time to go," says Filch as they exit the corridor.

"Looks like Filch is gone," remarks Hermione.

"He probably thinks the door is locked," adds Ron.

"It was locked," corrects Hermione.

"And for good reason," says Harry ominously.

Ron and Hermione swivel their heads to look at the giant three-headed dog that has just woken up from its sleep. Its menacing growls fill the air as it begins to move toward them.

"Ahhhh!" screams the trio in unison as they bolt away from the devilish hound and hastily shut the door behind them as they run away.

They stumbled back to the Gryffindor Common Room, panting from their encounter with the three-headed dog. Ron was wide-eyed and shaking, "What do they think they're doing, keeping something like that locked up in a school?"

Hermione looked pointedly at his feet. "You don't use your eyes much, do you? It was standing on a trapdoor. Which means it wasn't there by accident,"

Harry's mouth hung open as realization dawned on him. "It was standing on a trapdoor. Whatever it was guarding must have been important."

Hermione spun around in the doorway of her dormitory, fixing Ron with an icy stare. "If you two don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you gets us killed - or worse, expelled." With that, she shut the door behind her.

Ron shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at Harry. "She needs to get her priorities straight."

Harry nodded in agreement.

Harry and Iris nervously sat in the courtyard, the Forbidden Forest looming over them. An open Holocron lay between them, a box of knowledge that could grant either great power or great destruction.

"Iri I honestly don't know what to do here," said Harry.

"Haza, focus on the Light Side of the Force. You have to believe it in order for this to work," said Iris.

Harry closed his eyes and entered a meditative state. He envisioned himself radiating with power, and soon he felt a ball of light forming in his palms. He opened his eyes and looked at Iris with excitement.

"Haza, you did it! Now we just need something corrupted by the Dark Side so we can actually practice this on," said Iris.

"Good luck finding something like that around here," muttered Harry with dread.

Iris frowned as she looked at Harry. "True, but something is telling me we will need this skill soon," she said.

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "I know. I kind of have a feeling we'll need it against our DADA teacher."

Iris bit her lip. "Master Quirrell is highly suspicious," she said.

Harry nodded again and leaned in close, lowering his voice. "I think his soul is being leached by a dark spirit who has not yet become one with the force," he said.

"Why do you say that?" Iris asked eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"You know how when someone reads your mind, they need to look at your eyes," Harry said.

"Yes..." Iris replied uncertainly.

"Well, I feel something hitting my mental shields every time he has his back turned to me," Harry continued, his gaze far away as if he was recalling an unpleasant memory. "That could only happen if he had another soul attached to the back of his head."

At this Iris drew in a sharp breath, realization dawning on her face. "And that would be a reason why he has the face covering," she concluded.

Back in the Hufflepuff Dorms, Susan, Hannah, and Iris were seated on their beds, nervously chattering away. Susan finally asked the question that had been lingering in her mind since their first Potions class: "Iris, why did the incident with the professor cause him to be arrested?"

Iris paused for a moment before answering. Her voice was low and held a note of determination. "He tried really hard to tear down my brothers' mental shields."

Hannah gasped. "Is that why Harry reacted the way he did? And why his Accidental Magic started to choke Professor Snape?"

Iris shook her head. "That was not Accidental Magic. It was very intentional, but it wasn't magic at all."

"What do you mean?" said Hannah.

"It was the dark side of the Force," Iris replied.

"That is why he was in trouble!" exclaimed Susan.

"Yes," Iris confirmed with a solemn nod.

Susan turned to Iris with pleading eyes. "Enough of talking about your brother, can you help me with Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration homework?"

Iris nodded and quickly began gathering her books and notes from on top of her bed. Hannah spoke up, "Do you need help with something as well?"

"Yes," replied Hannah, "I need help with my Potions essay."

Iris sighed. "And I need help with my Charms homework." She could feel the weight of her heavy workload already pressing down on her.

Susan grabbed her transfiguration book and opened it to the correct page. She cleared her throat before starting. "So, what exactly do I need to make this feather turn into a needle?"

Iris leaned in and started explaining the basics of Transfiguration: the incantation, wand movements, and visualization techniques. Hannah followed along as she listened intently. When Iris finished, Susan thanked her for all her help and set to work practicing on some feathers.

Meanwhile, Hannah opened up her Potions book and began to read the essay prompt aloud: "What is an ingredient in Healing Drafts? How could it be used for healing?"

Iris began to answer, speaking slowly as she constructed her thoughts into words. "Well, most Healing Drafts contain some combination of herbs such as lavender, chamomile or valerian root which have calming effects when ingested," she paused and then continued. "These herbs can also be applied topically on wounds to reduce pain and promote healing."

With each explanation Iris gave, Hannah grew more confident in understanding potions theory. She thanked Iris for all the help before writing down a few notes on ingredients that she could use in her essay the following day.

Finally, they both turned towards Iris who had been patiently waiting. She opened up her charms book to show them a complicated spell that was required for homework submission the next day. After explaining what was required for the proper casting of the charm and answering any lingering questions that Hannah or Susan had about charms theory in general, Iris was ready to start practising with them both by her side offering support.

A/N Thank you Guys on FFN for the 100 favourites this story is becoming a lot of fun to write.

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