A/N:

Progress has been slow recently as we have all been busy with school and other things. If we're lucky we'll get in another chapter before the Christmas hols.

Don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to JK Rowling.

xXxDoubleKxXx

DavidoDaVinci

Chapter 12: The Flying Lesson

Most of the rest of Harry's week consisted of more lessons.

He had more lessons in Charms, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic and all of the others…

The only lesson that was anything new came on Tuesday. Flying.

As he worked his way through the hallways to Transfiguration, he found himself chatting to Ron.

"Hey, mate."

"Hey, Ron."

"You excited for the flying lesson later?"

"Yeah, I'm really excited," Harry responded, thinking that he would rather be anywhere else than flying with a bunch of mudbloods.

Ron must've picked up on his distaste because he frowned.

"Doesn't seem like it, mate. What's wrong?"

Harry mentally scolded himself. He hadn't been careful and Ron knew something was up. He thought fast.

"Uh- It's just that… I've never flown before and I'm kind of nervous."

Ron visibly relaxed.

"Oh. Don't worry, your dad is great at flying so you will be too. I thought you were going to say You-Know-Who was trying to kill you or something…"

Harry almost snorted (his father trying to KILL him? Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.), but regained his composure just in time.

"Oh no. Nothing like that… But thanks, Ron."

Ron grinned. "No problem, Harry. Now, let's get to Transfiguration before we're late."

Harry plastered a smile onto his face and sped up his walking.

…

As it transpired, he and Ron were late.

After Professor McGonagall, the transfiguration teacher and deputy head, had reprimanded them, they got on with the lesson, in which they had to turn pieces of parchment into muggle five pound notes.

Harry would have liked to point out that no one here would ever need muggle money, but decided against it.

Ron struggled very much with this task, succeeding in turning the parchment into a kind of blue and purple striped origami birds. An impressive feat, but not exactly money.

Dean successfully turned his parchment into money… but more so muggle coins than anything.

Neville blew his parchment to pieces.

Harry could do this easily, but feigned struggling until about half way into the lesson, making him the first person to succeed.

Which made him the only person to succeed.

Aside from this, he wasted the lesson away chatting to Ron, who seemed not to be concentrating on his work at all.

"Any news on… um… Hermione's… locket? Yeah. Yeah, it was a locket, right?"

"Yeah," Harry yawned, "We managed to open it."

Ron's eyebrows raised. "So… what's inside?"

"A picture of a woman who we think are, or were, her parents and some really old family crest. I didn't recognise it, but I've decided to do some research. It means she's probably a half-blood though."

Ron stifled a laugh. "Won't Hermione be mad, if it turns out that she's cousins with Pansy Parkinson?"

Harry laughed. Really, this time.

…

After Transfiguration, Harry and Ron came across Hermione on the way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Hello, Hermione," Harry said, falling into stride beside her.

"Hi, Harry. Hi, Ron. How are you?"

Ron smiled. "Alright. Transfiguration was hard. What did you just have?"

"I just had Charms but it was pretty easy. We were just working on the-"

A voice cut her off.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Draco Malfoy stood in front of them, blocking the hall, with a smirk playing on his face.

"A filthy mudblood, a blood traitor and…?" He trailed off, uncertain how to address his best friend.

Harry sent a pointed look his way. "A pureblood who wants nothing to do with you. So, bye!"

Ron stifled a laugh. The blonde sneered at him.

"Don't you dare talk about blood purity to me, Potter."

"Don't you dare call my friends those disgusting names, then!"

Hermione looked flattered and Ron just stared at Harry in shock.

"Come on, mate. You can't speak to him like that. I hate him too but he could get us expelled," Ron whispered to Harry

"So could we! Did he, or did he not, call Hermione a mudblood?" He hissed back

The blonde boy narrowed his eyes at the whispered conversation but dismissed it quickly.

Harry looked at Draco and when no one was looking, mouthed 'chat later'.

Draco Malfoy gave a discreet nod before sneering once more and stalking off to the Great Hall.

Harry breathed a small sigh of relief before turning back to Ron and Hermione.

Ron shook his head. "Sorry, Harry. Didn't realise you slept in the same room as him."

"It's alright, Ron. Now… let's go to lunch."

…

"Now, hold your hand above your broomstick, and say 'up!'"

It was one of those days that had both a clear sky, and a low temperature. As Harry glanced around, he noticed all the Gryffindors and Slytherins around him shivering. None of them had thought to bring a scarf.

Harry himself had wandlessly cast a subtle warming charm around him, although he wouldn't have minded the cold if he hadn't. He had been trained for years not to notice the sweltering heat, the freezing cold, and those odd bits of light you always saw in pitch black.

The person instructing them in their first flying lesson was Madam Hooch, who was wearing Quidditch robes and had white hair.

All around Harry, everyone was attempting to make their broomsticks fly up into their hands. m

Ron managed to make his whack itself against the ground violently, while Neville had been hit squarely in his face, and been knocked unconscious. Draco managed immediately, and Harry saw that three other Gryffindors and four more Slytherins had done the same.

Harry, of course, succeeded immediately.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to fly a foot above the ground. Harry found this very easy to do, and was amused at how much difficulty this caused some of the others.

After a quarter of an hour, however, even Neville had managed to fly for longer than two seconds.

"Well done, everyone. I'll have you know you did that much faster than the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws."

An amusing picture of Hermione struggling on a broomstick came to Harry, and he and Ron exchanged grins.

"Now we'll be able to do something that I had planned for the next lesson: real flying.

"So, you know how to kick off, and moving around is all to do with angles, now, to go up, you…

"… Now. I will call you one at a time to try flying while I follow you. You will be called in no particular order, and while you are up, the rest will be up to you. You can decide where to go, what to do, I'm not going to stop you. While that's happening, everyone else can continue down here. Is that clear?"

There was a chorus of 'yes, Miss', 'mhm,' and one whisper of 'I just want to leave'.

"Weasly," Madam Hooch bellowed.

Ron came forward, looking very embarrassed.

As a matter of fact, Ron was pretty good. He was doing very successfully, until he looked down and realised that everyone was watching him intently.

Draco rubbed it in further when Ron eventually came down at a 45 degree angle.

However, Harry didn't bother to watch; he was worried about keeping his cover.

He could play it down and pretend to be rubbish at flying to keep up the act of being raised in a muggle orphanage and having never flown before. He could also fly like he usually would at Riddle Manor and put it down to being a natural in the air. Both would have consequences, good and bad; and both would work out. Eventually, Harry's pride got in the way and he decided to not play it down so Draco couldn't out-fly him.

They say pride is a weapon.

Harry then began to notice how everyone was doing. Parvati and Lavender were both absolutely terrible, and, on the Slytherin side of things, so were Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy was OK, until she hit a tree and broke her wrist. Dean Thomas managed to hit himself in the head with his broomstick, and no one could tell afterwards how he had managed it.

And then, there was Draco.

He flew spectacularly, doing a loop-the-loop or two, and otherwise showing off. When he came down, he whispered something partly unintelligible to Goyle, who sniggered though Harry distinctly caught the word 'mudblood,'. Harry couldn't wait to tell Draco about the recent developments with Hermione to stop the name-calling.

When it was Harry's turn, he got on the broomstick, and, without thinking about it, displayed a level of skill that Madam Hooch hadn't seen from a first year in half a century.

He swerved this way, that way, up, down and around. He was like a bald eagle soaring through the sky. Except, of course, he had hair.

By the time he came down, Madam Hooch was looking at him, gobsmacked.

"I shall have to speak to Professor Snape. Class dismissed! Potter, come with me."

Harry was marched through the castle by Madam Hooch until they finally arrived outside the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

The flying instructor knocked on the door and Harry waited with baited breath for the bat-like teacher to appear. When Professor Snape finally opened the door, Harry caught a glimpse of a room filled with sixth year students before Snape stepped into the doorway.

"Professor," he drawled. "I'm in the middle of a lesson."

Snape, in terms of personality, was nothing short of sadistic. As he saw Harry, his stony face remained carved as it was, but his eyes… flashed something. A distant memory, perhaps…

Either way, he walked out of the classroom silently, shutting the door behind him, and looked at Hooch, questioningly.

"Well?"

"Well, Potter here has demonstrated a large amount of skill at Quidditch today."

Snape nodded.

"Then in a few years, he can try to get on the Slytherin Quidditch Team." he stated, turning to leave.

"Ah. You see, I was wondering if you would not object to him joining the team… now. I believe you are currently one short, Severus."

"We are missing a Chaser, yes… but this one seems as though he would be better as a Seeker. I'm sure the current Seeker can transfer…" He mused. "Wallace!"

A surly looking sixth-year came out, and saw Snape.

"Yes, Professor?"

"You wouldn't mind changing to Chaser, would you?"

Jack blinked. "I can change to Chaser, sure. Why do you ask?"

Snape faked a sigh. "You see, we have found someone who we believe will be a better Seeker than you."

Jack looked around. He looked directly at Snape, Hooch and Harry.

"This kid? Are you sure he's good enough? He's a first-year."

"Yes, Wallace." Madam Hooch sighed. "He's better than most fifth-years, in fact."

It was well known around the school that Jake Wallace made people sigh a lot.

"Alright then, Miss." he shrugged.

Snape nodded. "Now, I need to finish my lesson."