(Iris Potter - PoV)
He agreed.
That's...good.
I guess.
Even if...
"That went well!" Coeus announces, clapping his hands as we walk down the hall after leaving the office.
"Which way to Defense then?" he asks, causing Phoebe and I to shake our heads.
"Quirrel probably has class right now, doesn't he?" I ask.
Coeus blinks.
"Oh, right. Forgot it's that weird free period and not the weekend."
"And we don't have that much time anyway," Phoebe adds. "Lunch isn't that far off."
Is it?
"Tempus" I murmur, palming my wand.
Huh.
The late breakfast is really throwing me off.
Coeus scowls.
"Astronomy really throws everything out of whack, doesn't it?" he asks.
Phoebe and I nod.
"Five years..." Phoebe mutters, causing him to groan.
"Years? Ugh."
...
"Hogwarts doesn't really need an Astronomy tower, does it?"
I laugh lightly but Phoebe goes quiet.
Suspiciously quiet.
"They can just move the class somewhere else," she sighs after a moment.
I give her a look.
"You had to use your sight for that?" I ask.
She shrugs.
"It was worth a shot?"
"You two really like sleeping in though?"
"...True."
It's gotten better. Each time we enter the hall.
The attention is still too much, but slowly it has been decreasing.
Not today.
Today is just like before, the wave of quiet/whispers as all heads turn to look.
"Whatever it is, we didn't do it!" Coeus yells at the crowd, rolling his eyes before grabbing my hand and pulling me along towards our table.
"You didn't fight and blow up the Gargoyle to the Headmaster's office?" a voice from the Gryffindor table yells, causing him to pause.
"Oh," he mutters.
"Ok, fine, I guess we did do it. But that stupid thing had it coming and you all know it!" he replies, glaring around the room.
Nodding, he smirks.
"And for the record, the password was Reducto!"
Pulling on my hand, we move on. Pushing me into a seat across from Draco, Coeus and Phoebe take the seats on either side of me.
"...Why, were you going to Dumbledore's office?" Draco asks.
Phoebe elbows Coeus before he can reply.
"Blackmail," she replies, causing him to blink.
She giggles.
"His expression was better than yours! But really, ask again later if you really want to know. It's...complicated. We had a...favor, we had to ask him for."
"...You went to his office to ask a favor?"
Phoebe nods, a smile plastered on her face.
"And before doing so you blew up another Founders relic? Right outside?"
She shakes her head.
"I didn't blow up anything. That was these two," she points at Coeus and I.
Coeus shrugs.
"It was really kind of disappointing, to be honest."
Draco looks over at me.
"I...don't really get this whole 'Founder relic' thing?" I admit, trying to ignore his expression. "Everyone goes on and on about them, but so far they...really haven't been very impressive? That stupid evil Cart is way harder to break."
...
The table is silent for a moment...save for Phoebe trying to suppress her giggles.
"You...You're not supposed to break them, Iris! Durability is not how you define the quality of an enchanted object!" Draco objects.
"It is a useful trait though," Coeus argues.
"I...what? Well, yes..."
"And it is Iris we are talking about," Phoebe adds. They need to be durable to be around her, don't they?"
Hey! What is that supposed to mean?
"That...isn't wrong," Draco admits. "But, objectively speaking!"
Shaking my head, I focus on my food while the twins try to browbeat/trick Draco into admitting...something.
Frowning, I look over Draco's needle.
The color is great, a bright, shining silver. The texture seems good, metallic. But the shape...
I carefully tap my finger on the end.
It is mostly right, but completely blunt.
Looking back at Draco, I shrug.
"I dunno what you are doing wrong," I admit, passing his needle back.
"He is not the sharpest tool in the shed, clearly," Daphne interjects.
Draco huffs.
"Tools? I, have magic!"
"Do you?" Daphne asks, waving towards the matchstick, and causing him to glare.
"He doesn't get it," Phoebe speaks up, drawing everyone's attention.
"The needle. Sharp. He isn't used to it, and doesn't like the idea."
Frowning, I rub at my arm.
Why would anyone like the idea?
"Ohhh. So he just needs some 'encouragement!'" Daphne replies.
Leaning over, she pokes him with her needle, causing him to yelp and drawing McGonagall's attention.
Flying class is a random spot out on the grounds with two rows of brooms lying on the ground.
Nothing else is here. Not even the teacher.
...
How exactly we were supposed to find this without Phoebe I have no idea.
Hogwarts confuses me sometimes.
"Huh," a boy mutters, nudging a broom with his foot. "I've heard a lot of things about the school brooms, but these look pretty nice."
Loud chatter draws everyone's attention, and we look over to find the Gryffindor first years making their way over.
The chatter dies down as they approach, lining up across from us.
...
"So..."
Do we have a teacher for this class or can I just go flying already?
Oh, there she is. The eye lady.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barks. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
I look around.
No one in Slytherin moves, having already done exactly that. A couple of Gryffindors awkwardly shuffle around slightly.
"Good!" she announces, giving us a glance over. "Now, stick out your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'"
Raising a hand over my, Cleansweep(?) I give the command.
"Up!"
The broom obeys eagerly, smacking into my palm.
Closing my hand around it, I can't help but give a small smile.
Everything feels...lighter. Just a minute, I promise, and we can fly.
...
Just a minute, I repeat as, err, the Professor(?) goes around talking to(?) correcting(?) people.
...
"Ok. First, you two! Blacks!" she points at the twins, drawing my attention.
"Thank your great-grandfather for me, will you?" she asks before looking around the class.
"For those who were not aware, the school brooms were well known for being barely functional, occasionally outright dangerous pieces of junk that I only barely kept going. You have Arcturus Black to thank for his donation of an entirely new set of Cleansweep Trainers."
"Now, if everyone is ready?" she glances around once more. "When I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On
my whistle! Three! Two! O-"
One of the Gryffindors takes off early, flying almost straight up.
"Come back, boy!" she shouts.
...Really?
Even I can tell he looks terrified.
Thankfully his broom slows down, coming to a hover instead of continuing to drag him up and away like one of Dudly's balloons.
Hooch mutters out something about paying off already before shouting uselessly at him again.
Rolling my eyes, I kick off, ignoring her protestations.
Frozen in place, gripping the broom with everything he has, his eyes go wide as I approach.
"Hey, err, Neville?" (Someone was shouting it, I hope that's his name.)
...
He doesn't respond, just staring at me.
"Great. So. I'm going to fly over to you, and you are going to climb onto my broom, then we are going to land. Ok?"
His eyes manage to go even wider and he shakes his head slightly.
I nod.
"Yes. Well, it's that or you sit right there until you get tired. What do you think is going to happen then, Neville?"
Shaking, he whimpers slightly.
I shake my head.
"Don't worry, we aren't that high up. Even if you fall it won't be that bad. Maybe a broken bone or something,"
*Whimper*
"...Never mind. Anyhow, I'm coming over. And you are climbing on."
He goes quiet and still as I approach, flying next to him.
"Ok, now, move your grip over. I said, move your grip over."
Sighing, I grab his arm, causing him to squeal.
"...I have you," I tell him, wrapping my other arm around him, "Now, just move your grip over..."
Slowly, ever so slowly, we get him shifted over to my broom.
"There we go, see? Now, down we go..."
Keeping our descent slow and steady, I fly us back to the useless Professor.
And try to ignore the image that keeps popping in my head of Coeus in this situation, dragging Neville off the broom by force and draping him over his like a sack of potatoes before pulling them into a seeker dive.
Landing, I help a shaky Neville off the broom while trying to ignore the stares.
"That was impressive, Miss Potter," the professor says.
Shrugging, I watch Neville teeter back towards the Gryffs.
"Yelling at him wasn't going to do anything," I reply.
She shakes her head.
"This is flying class. The idea is for him to learn to do it."
Oh.
...
Looking over at her, I look up at the riderless broom, slowly descending back towards the ground, then back at the still shaky Neville.
"I don't think that was going to work."
She huffs.
"Probably not. He wasn't going to get hurt either way, however."
Glancing over at her, she wiggles her wand.
...Right.
"You gave the class a great demonstration, at least."
...