Autumn 1991
Ronald Weasley
The school courtyards had turned red, orange, and yellow as they were draped in blankets of fallen leaves. The warm humidness of the summer fell away to the crispness of Autumn's breath and the corridors in the dungeon grew cold enough to send shivers down student's arms.
Ron bit the inside of his cheek as he and Blaise made the long journey from the Slytherin common room to the outdoor pitch. It had been almost a year since Ron had fallen from his broom but still the idea of learning to fly properly sent jitters into the tips of his fingers. He drummed them against his side, hoping to build enough courage to earn a point or two from the flying instructor Madam Hooch. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.
"Nervous?" Blaise asked him. His friend had made a subtle habit of checking in on him when he was being quiet. Ron didn't mind, but he knew it was because of the letter.
"Slightly," he admitted. "The last time I was on a broom I ended up in St. Mungo's."And I witnessed a murder.
Blaise nodded, "I'm sure it will be fine, some of the older students told me that flying lessons are kind of a joke. Apparently, we stay very low to the ground."
Ron wasn't sure if he should have been relieved or disappointed. He didn't want to get hurt again but a strong part of him missed flying. It had taken him a lot of begging before his brothers agreed to teach him and he had really worked hard to try and keep up during family Quidditch.
"I hope so."
"You look more than nervous, Ron. You look like you've barely slept." Blaise said with a frown.
Ron barely mumbled a response. He had slept for only two hours the night before, every time he closed his eyes he saw rivers of ash and smoke. He had even imagined the large emerald snake lurching down from the sky and swallowing him whole. Salazar had tried to comfort him about his dreams but it was of little use. The magic from the ritual was too strong and his mind was having trouble coping, or so the almost-ghost had told him. He had taken Salazar's suggestions about what potions might help but he wasn't exactly capable of brewing them himself and he wasn't going to ask Snape either.I'll sleep well soon,he thought for the third time in a week.
They had just gotten to the entrance hall when Theo appeared from one of the bathrooms.
"Morning gents," he said quickly. "Fancy a bit of Quidditch this morning?"
"We won't be playing anything," Blaise told him. "It's just the basics of flying."
Theo frowned. "That doesn't sound very fun."
"I don't think it's supposed to be fun," Ron added. "I think it's mostly for muggle-borns and students who haven't flown before."
"Have you? Flown before?" Theo asked.
"I told you, remember? I fell off my broom last summer."
"Just making sure you weren't lying, Weasley. Maybe your special power is an incredible poker face."
Ron gave Theo a disturbed look. For whatever reason Theo wouldn't stop trying to find some way for him to be special. It made Ron nervous, like Theo might have somehow known that Ron was a seer or worse he would find Salazar and ruin everything. After Ron had considered both what Salazar and Blaise had told him, he also worried that Theo might have been the threat to Hogwarts. After all, he wasn't sure how far removed Theo was from his father.
"Weasley?"
"Sorry?" Ron shook his head and tried to focus.
"I asked if you thought any of the Gryffindors would be any good at flying."
Ron opened his mouth and then closed it again quickly. Neville Longbottom seemed too timid, Hermione Granger would probably try to read a book and crash, Lavender Brown was too vain, and he knew Harry had never flown before.
"I hope not," Ron said truthfully. If he wanted to eventually join the Slytherin Quidditch team then it was best if his yearmates were poor flyers.
"Harry Potter," Blaise said softly. "He's short which means he's faster, and his father was team captain."
"What?" Ron felt his eyes widen. "Harry's father was team captain?"
"I looked at all the trophies yesterday, James Potter was a good Chaser. Harry could be too." Blaise shrugged.
"Now that's an interesting opinion, Zabini." Theo counted to five on his fingers. "How about this, a galleon says Potter falls off his broom."
Wait, what? Why the fuck would you hope someone falls!? Bloody prick!
"Deal," Blaise offered his hand and Theo shook it. Ron could hardly believe it.
"A full galleon?" Ron asked, it seemed to be far too much money.
"Oh, right. I forgot that Weasley here doesn't know what Galleons are."
"I know what a Galleon is, you prat!"
Theo laughed merrily and Blaise just gave Ron a cautious , I won't fight him.
"A galleons a lot, but anything less wouldn't be worth it," Theo explained. "I mean it's not exciting to win a few Knuts."
"Whatever," Ron said. If Theo wanted to lose a galleon on some stupid bet then he would let him. If Blaise was right, which Ron knew he probably was, then Harry wouldn't fall. It was a well-known phenomenon that great Quidditch players tended to be generational, the skills seemed to pass almost in the same way as curses.
The three boys finally made it to the eastside of the castle where the rest of their class stood around a pile of old brooms. The flying instructor, Madam Hooch, had a brand new nimbus tucked underneath her arm and Ron wondered if it too belonged to the school or if she had brought it from home. Either way, the school brooms were far better than any of the relics in the Weasley's broom shed.
"Everyone pick up a broom," the tall witch instructed.
Ron found a worn one that still seemed to be in working condition and yanked it from the pile. He noticed that Blaise had managed to find one that looked a tiny bit better while Theo was stuck with something that could have passed for a Weasley broom. Ron locked eyes with Harry for a moment. The boy who lived smiled at him don't hate me.
Ron took his spot alongside the other Slytherins. They formed a perfect line that faced the Gryffindors and Madam Hooch stood between them.
"Flying a broom is about confidence," the instructor spoke. "It's important that you believe in your broom and that your broom believes in you. So, to start, everyone places their broom beside them on the ground," she took the nimbus out of the crook of her arm and laid it on the grass. "Hover your hand outward like so, and say: up!" The broom immediately raised to meet her hand. She turned around in a circle and smiled. "Easy, now you try."
The students all laid their chosen brooms in the grass beside them. Nobody wanted to be the first to make a fool of themselves and there was a brief moment of silence before Neville Longbottom spoke up.
"Up!" He said forcefully, but the broom only shook and remained where it was. Ron was actually impressed that Longbottom mustered the courage to go first and he wondered if he had misjudged him.
Once Neville had started, the entire class began to try their luck with summoning the brooms. It took only a few seconds before Harry Potter's was the first to shoot into his hand.
"Fuck," Theo said under his breath. It should have been loud enough for the instructor to hear, but if she had, she ignored it. Ron found himself smiling at Theo's discomfort.
Ron tried three times before the broom shot into his hand. He wasn't first or second but he had managed it before most of the others and he couldn't help but enjoy the fact that both Malfoy and Theo struggled for a few more seconds after him.
When they had all successfully raised their brooms, Madam Hooch ordered the class to mount them. Ron found the whole procedure a little frustrating, he felt as if he could have easily kicked off the ground and didn't need all of the instructions. He had flown before and he knew many of his classmates had too. It seemed silly to wait while everyone else caught up.
Ron had to stop himself from laughing when Madam Hooch toured the line and corrected Malfoy's grip. She told him very seriously that he had been holding his broom wrong his entire life, and the look on Malfoy's face was priceless.
"When I blow the whistle," Madam Hooch barked, "push off against the ground hard, raise a few feet into the air, and then come back down by leaning forward. Ready? One, Two, Th—"
Ron's eyes widened in shock as Longbottom pushed off against the ground before the instructor had blown the whistle. He heard Theo mutter something about being impatient under his breath but Ron tried his best to ignore it. Instead Ron held his breath as Madam Hooch tried to get Neville out of the air and failed to do so. The Gryffindor boy spiralled high into the sky, looked down at them with a white face, and let his hands slip off the broom.
Ron quickly looked away and his stomach swirled sickly when he heard the crash. There was a horrible crunch of bones that Ron remembered from his own accident the summer before. It sent shivers racing down his spine and for a brief moment he saw green in the corners of his don't be dead.
"Just a broken wrist," Ron heard someone say and he let out a relieved breath.
When he turned back, Ron watched as Madam Hooch helped Neville to his feet. The boy held one of his arms to his chest and his wrist flopped around it like a dead fish. Ron felt as if his own bones ached inside him.
"I should have bet on him," Theo said.
"But you didn't," Blaise replied.
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing!" Hooch told them sternly. "If you don't leave those brooms where they are, I'll have you out of Hogwarts faster than you can say 'Quidditch'"
Neville hobbled off with Madam Hooch and as soon as they were out of earshot, the laughter began.
"Did you see that?" Malfoy asked. "Longbottom has to be the worst flyer that's ever lived!"
A few of the other Slytherins laughed along with him and Ron was surprised that Theo didn't. His black haired roommate just stared oddly at the grass in front of him.
"Shut up!" snapped one of the Gryffindor girls.
"Oo, does someone have a crush on fat little Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson teased. Ron knew that she was one of Malfoy's minions and wasn't entirely surprised by the .
"What's this?" Theo said. He leaned forward and picked up some sort of ball off the ground. He had it only for a moment before Malfoy snatched it.
"It's that stupid thing that Longbottom's Gran sent him," Malfoy said and held the ball up to the light. It shimmered finely in the sun.
"Give it here!" Harry yelled. The entire crowd grew quiet as everyone looked towards the boy who lived. Ron felt his heart start to thump wildly. If Harry got into a fight with Malfoy then Ron knew he had to help, especially with Crabbe and Goyle standing dumbly nearby.
Blaise placed a hand on Ron's shoulder and Ron knew that he was warning him. The air felt thicker than it had a moment before.
Malfoy laughed wildly as if Harry had told some sort of joke. He grabbed the nearest broom and pushed off of the ground. Ron had to admit that Malfoy was a good flyer, even if he had been holding his broom wrong. Malfoy soared a few feet away so he was level with the top of a nearby tree.
"You'll have to come and get it," Malfoy teased.
Harry grabbed a broom and slipped it between his legs and quickly flew after Malfoy. Ron was too stunned to speak. He could hardly believe that Harry was willing to risk being expelled over some dumb ball.
"Why didn't you do something!?" Hermione Granger had crossed over to the Slytherin side and stood firmly in front of Theo.
"What was I supposed to do, chick? You want me to punch Malfoy?" Theo asked her and waved his hand in front of her face.
Ron shrugged off Blaise's warning and quickly squeezed himself between Theo and Granger. The last thing he wanted was for his roommate to get into an altercation with a muggleborn.
"We're sorry," Ron apologised on Theo's behalf. His roommate gave him a strange look but didn't say anything more.
"Sorry?" Granger said sternly. "Those two are going to get all of us in trouble because you won't stand up to a bully!"
"Excuse me?" Ron said. "Why is it our job to stand up to Malfoy? You were right here with us."
The bushy haired girl pursed her lips. "I'm not a Slytherin, and you all just laugh while he makes fun of Neville. You're all encouraging him."
"I didn't laugh," Ron said simply. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had saved Granger from whatever Theo might do to her only for her to accuse him of being something he wasn't. He felt heat rush up the back of his neck.
"Well maybe you shouldn't associate with Draco Malfoy," Granger said hotly.
Ron's left eye twitched. "Associate with him? He's in our house, what do you expect us to do? Should I tell him it's not very nice the next time he calls me a weasel? Do you even have any idea what you're talking about?" He could feel the frustration in his voice.
"Do you?" She asked back. Somewhere behind him, Ron heard Pansy Parkinson laugh again.
Ron looked up and flinched when he saw Harry barreling towards them. He had barely enough time to move out of the way before Harry's broom almost touched the ground. Harry soared above them and then landed with a solid thump, the small glistening ball in the centre of his palm. A second later Draco touched down nearby.
Draco was about to say something when a shrill voice interrupted them. Professor McGonagall had come out of the castle and she wore an angry look. She immediately shouted at Harry to follow her and ignored any of the protests from the other Gryffindors. Granger gave Ron a dark stare and he was forced to turn is it always my fault?
"That chick has serious issues," Theo told him. "She probably can't help herself."
"What do you mean by that?" Ron asked quickly.
Theo smiled coyly at him. "Oh, I'm sure you know what I mean, Weasley."
Ron frowned at him, not pleased with the implication Theo had made. Just because Hermione Granger's parents were muggles didn't mean she had issues. Ron himself had been having issues with his parents and brothers for a week, and they were all purebloods.
"Potter's a good flyer," Blaise said. Theo gave him a disappointed look and then handed him a galleon. The golden coin reflected brightly in the sun.
"He's going to be on the Quidditch team," Ron added. "He has to be right?"
"Seeker," Blaise said thoughtfully, "he caught that remembrall in a straight dive. Coincidently, Gryffindor is missing a seeker this year."
"Don't be daft," Theo rolled his eyes. "Potter isn't going to make it this year, first years can't even attend tryouts. This Granger chick will probably bore him to death before next year even begins."
"Five," Blaise held up his hand. "If Potter makes it on the team this year."
Five galleons!?Ron's breath swept from his lungs. That was almost enough for a wand.
"Giving me another chance to take your money? You've got yourself a deal, Zabini." Theo and Blaise shook hands once more. Ron could only stare at them with a dumbfounded look.