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Harry was excited to see the notice about flying lessons, and he was far from being the only one one. In Gryffindor, half of the first years was downright giddy with the knowledge that after such a long pause, they would finally be able to fly again, while Sophia's and Dean's excitement was mixed with nervousness, since they have never flown before. As for Neville and Lavender, they were simply not that fond of the exercise. Lavnder especially was rather loud in her complaints. "Don't get me wrong," she said, to their astonished looks, "I love Quidditch, I love watching it and everything, but actually being on a broom...not for me."

Parvati was looking at her friend like she felt betrayed. "But actually flying is the only good thing about Quidditch!" She said.

"I was really nervous about flying at first too," Neville said, "and I'm still not very good at it, but I sometimes find it kind of relaxing, so maybe with more practice you'll hate it less..." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well.

Lavender, however, shook her head. "That's not it," she said. "I can fly well enough. I just….don't really like it."

"Girls," Seamus muttered. "They're weird."

It earned him a smack from Sophie. "You're weird," she said, and took Lavender by the arm, to the girl's clear surprise and perhaps even slight discomfort. "Come on, let's go down to breakfast and you can tell me about flying in a sensible way – these dumbasses can only say stuff like 'it's awesome!' and 'you'll see.'"

"But it is awesome," Parvati muttered, following after them, with Dean in tow.

They were to have the class with the Slytherins, so Harry was looking forward to flying with Draco again. Ron wasn't bad, but he had nothing on the young Malfoy. When they arrived to the designated place that afternoon, the Slytherins were already there, eying the school broomsticks.

"This is junk," Draco muttered, kicking one of the brooms, when Harry approached him. "I don't see why we can't have our own. I mean, I'm pretty sure it'd be safer to fly on the good ones than on this."

"I guess not everyone has their own brooms – the Muggle-Born, at least, certainly don't."

Draco looked like he wanted to say something about the Muggle-Born, but at Harry's look, he refrained. "Well," he said instead, "if the school only needed to provide brooms for the Muggle-Born, they'd maybe have enough money for some relatively decent ones." He paused. "I should have tried smuggling my Nimbus in," he grumbled.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You'd have been found out."

"So what? At worst, they'd have sent it back home."

"You know, that seems a rather Gryffindor attitude."

Draco grimaced, but before he could come up with a retort, the flying instructor arrived, and the class started.

After some ridiculously easy introductory exercises, Madam Hooch split them in two groups – the experienced flyers and those who were only learning. Harry was in the experienced group with Draco, Ron, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, Greg, Millicent and Daphne. However, he and Draco soon became a team of their own, racing each other and trying to outdo the other in outrageous manoeuvres. The school brooms were really rubbish, but still, once Harry really let himself go, not even Draco held a candle to him and could only watch enviously as Harry pulled his broom only few feet above ground and flew sharply back up.

"Mr. Potter!" Madame Hooch shouted, once she noticed this. "What are you doing?"

Harry was confused. "Free flying, like you told us we can."

"That was insanely dangerous!"

Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry if we were not allowed to do this, but you didn't say, and I practice things like this often at home."

She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of broom do you have at home?"

"Nimbus 2000."

"And here's your answer. With such a broom, you can afford tricks like this, provided you are good enough flier – which I grant you are. But on old and unreliable brooms like this one, I would ask you to keep to something safer."

Harry nodded, irritated but knowing she was right, and he joined Draco again.

After dinner, as he was just getting up to leave, Professor McGonnagal appeared at their table. Absentmindedly vanishing something Fred and George were fumbling with, she said: "Come with me, Potter."

Harry gulped. "Um, can the others come with me, or…?"

"I supposed."

Harry and his friends exchanged worried looks as they followed Professor McGonnagal out of the Great Hall. Once they were far enough from any other students, the Professor gave Harry a stern look. "I have heard about your proves at flying from Madam Hooch," she said.

Oh no – was he in trouble?

"It sounded very impressive. I want you to try out for the team, Mr. Potter. I know first years are not normally allowed, but I will give you special permission. Show the team captain what you can do."

Harry's face broke into a huge grin. "Thank you, Professor!" He said, then hesitated. "Am I allowed to train before the tryouts? I mean..."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you are. My permission slip will arrive at breakfast. You should also write home for your broom."

Oh no, he would do much better than that. He would mirror-call Alduin tonight, and with luck, he would have his Nimbus by morning!

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Harry's broom did indeed arrive in time for him to spend the whole afternoon training. He went down to the pitch with the whole of Gryffindor's first year – even Parvati went with them, though she didn't care one bit about Quidditch. There, an intense discussion about which position Harry should play took place. Beater was discarded right off the bat, since Harry didn't have the right kind of constitution for it, and Keeper was out as well, since – as Ron told him – the Gryffindor captain was one, and he would hardly be replacing himself. So Ron got Percy to transfigure them a ball, and Harry tried his luck trying to score goals with it while Ron and Seamus were doing their best to prevent him, Ron as Keeper and Seamus by pretending to be an opposing player. It wasn't bad. But as soon as they switched to Harry trying to catch random small objects his friends were throwing in different directions, he knew that Seeker was the position he truly wanted.

He got in some flying even on Saturday before lunch. The tryouts were in the afternoon, and all of Harry's first year House mates once again accompanied him to the pitch, this time to offer support. "I feel bad wishing you to kick their asses," Dean mused, "because, I mean, they're Gryffindors as well, but..."

"Screw that," Sophie said decidedly. "Kick their asses, Harry."

Ron pointed out the captain to him, and Harry, feeling rather nervous now, went to introduce himself and tell the older boy that he wanted to try out for the Seeker position. The captain, whose name was Oliver Wood, gave him a measuring look in response. "You have the right build for that," he said. "I've heard about your exception from Percy, and am now curious myself. Stand in the line, then."

He pointed to one of the two lines that formed at the edge of the pitch. Harry noticed Kiara Shacklebolt standing in the other one of them, talking to another girl in a low voice. "Hey," he said, stopping next to her. "Trying out for the team?"

"Ha, I wish," she replied with a laugh. "I can't fly worth a damn. Katie here can, though," she added, and nodded to the girl she had been talking to. "Harry, this is Katie Bell. Katie, Harry Potter."

"Hello," Katie said. "So, are you gonna be my competition?"

Harry shook his head. "You're trying out for a Chaser, aren't you? I'm going for Seeker."

"In that case, good luck."

Harry laughed. "To you, too."

He continued to his own line, his nervousness mounting. It disappeared, however, the moment he sat on the broom and kicked off. The joy of flying filled him, and he hardly even heard the encouraging shouts from his friends on the stands. He absolutely flattened his competition, catching the Snitch within minutes every time Wood let it loose. The captain seemed to be beyond himself with joy. "Keep it up, Potter," he said, "and the Quidditch Cup will be ours this year, no question about it."

His friends came over to congratulate him, and so did the other old members of the team, Fred and George and one girl, Angelina Johnson. She played Chasers, he found out, and seemed very enthusiastic about his skills. The two new chasers had been chosen before him, Katie Bell and Angelina's friend Alicia, and both seemed very happy with his performance too. Harry was feeling very proud of himself.

One person who was less that thrilled by his place on the team was Draco. "How is that fair?" He asked, enraged, when Harry told him the news on Sunday after the trials, excited and wanting to share, catching up with his Slytherin friend when he was leaving the Hall. "Why are only you given the exception?"

Harry, taken aback by the reaction, didn't reply.

"Seriously, that's a good question," said Daphne, who was right behind Draco. "How did it happen?"

"Well...Hooch apparently told McGonnagal what I did in class, and McGonnagal decided it needed to be tried."

Draco looked absolutely disgusted. "I'm going to speak to Snape," he announced, and departed speedily, Vince and Greg behind him.

Daphne sighed. "Don't mind him," she said. "Draco clearly doesn't handle being second well. He has hard enough time dealing with that know-it-all Muggle-Born in Herbology, and now this."

Pansy snorted. "Doesn't handle it well? Understatement of the century," she said. "Though I'm with him on Granger, she's insufferable. And I'm angry about the exception too, Potter, just so you know. Why should you of all people get special treatment, I have no idea."

"None of us are too thrilled," Daphne admitted. "From what my cousin told me, you fly like Merlin himself, and we could have done without someone like that on an opposing team."

"Do you think Merlin could fly?" Theo asked musingly.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Go ask Granger, I'm sure she could tell you," she said, and all the girls giggled.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, Hermione can be a bit too much."

Pansy stared at him. "Don't tell me you've already befriended her?"

"I met her on the train," he muttered. "She's overbearing, but I thought she was kinda impressive as well."

"Typical. You really collect them, don't you?"

"Collect what?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Riff-raff," she said pointedly. "I knew I was right about you."

The Slytherins looked worried now. "In what way exactly?" Harry demanded in a dangerous tone of voice.

"Blood will out after all," Pansy said sneeringly.

"Pansy!" Daphne cried, shocked, and gave Harry an apologetic look. "Let's go," she said to the quiet Slytherin girl by her side, whom Harry didn't know, and they both left, Pansy just a few steps after them.

"Sorry about that," Milicent said awkwardly. "Granger really rubs Pansy the wrong way."

"Hardly an excuse to tear into Harry," Theo pointed out.

"I didn't say it was," Milicent reminded him.

They both left after this, and Harry was left standing by the Great Hall door, feeling suddenly tired. He was fighting Ron about Draco and the others all the time, defending the Slytherins, only to be treated to this? He dragged his steps up to the Gryffindor Tower morosely, ignoring the whispering portraits around him. Once back in his dormitory, he opened his trunk and, after a short hesitation, decided to write a letter to his cousin. He had let him know via the mirror that he made the team, but now he could include more details, and complain about Draco's reaction. Alduin, he felt, was the only one who would truly understand. Even Neville, the most relaxed of his friends in this, tended to have rather strong biases sometimes. And Harry was so fed up with that.

Quidditch, at least, was very efficient in distracting him from that kind of worries. Since almost half of the team was new, Wood decided on a strict training regiment and they started the very next day. A trust like his could not be disappointed, and it made Harry try very hard during practice, exhausting himself enough that he had no energy left to think about Draco.

On Monday morning, Alduin's reply to Harry's complaints about Draco and Pansy arrived, and Harry had to admit it was very sensible. "Draco has some reason to be upset," it said. "A rule was broken for you, and while he might be a little worse on a broom than you are, he is still very good, and it's legitimate that he feels he should have been given this chance as well. Yes, he should have been happy for you, but given that you are on opposing teams in this, and that he never had to be happy for a more successful friend before, I think you can cut him some slack. Certainly don't expect him to apologize. If he treats you okay again following this incident, I think you should let it go. As for Pansy, she was way out of line, and you have full right to expect apology from her. I do not quite believe it will be forthcoming any time soon, but you will be fully justified to cut her from now on, until she tries to make amends – which she will, if her parents hear about it. You have the advantage of being an important personality, and people are not simply at their leisure to offend you. I understand you would prefer it if she apologized because she understood that what she said was wrong, but it has to start somewhere. You have every right to be offended, but don't burn any bridges. Remember your father and Professor Snape."

This letter gave Harry a lot to think about. The memory of the argument also made him search out Hermione Granger, to ask her about her time in Ravenclaw. She was full of enthusiasm, talking about the study groups and the House library and the tutoring offered by older students and how smart Horatio was and her wonderful new friend Su...Harry departed the library after half an hour, his ears ringing, and with a little more sympathy for Pansy's dislike.