The next few weeks saw Harry beginning to get into a routine as September drew to a close. Sneaking into the remedial classes of Runes was easy with his new tunnel, and coupled with his normal classes, Harry felt stimulated and encouraged. His homework was always done the night of the class, something even Draco had commented about in annoyance.

Ron remained distant, but after a couple weeks he had started to "forgive" Harry for the incident in potions. Potions was always hard, Harry had soon realized. It was definitely his hardest class, but he did well with his brewing. Harry enjoyed how it was like cooking, and the ingredients seemed to all have different colors and looks when he focused on their magic.

The other classes were simple compared to Potions. Harry did well in each, always butting heads with Hermione and Draco for the top score. The three had formed a sort of three-way rivalry; each trying to out-do the others.

Harry continued his reading at night, Amber often sitting in his lap. After a week, he had quizzed her on how she felt. He had been surprised when she stated she didn't feel hungry when around him, and Harry wondered if Amber was truly his familiar; not needing to eat was a pretty big sign of such.

With several things on his list marked out and solved, including Amber's food issue and the questions on his fox form, Harry stared at the remaining questions on his list

"Who put me on the Dursley's doorstep?"
"Can magic be used to mess with people's minds?"
"Can potions be brewed by muggles?"

Harry wondered where he would begin with those three. The mind magic question might be the easiest if he asked an adult, but what if someone heard him asking around? What would he do? He could end up alerting whoever did it if he looked into it. He scratched a note on that one and the previous for later: "Find a way to research secretly".

That left Harry with the potions question. Asking Professor Snape was out, as he always had to be watching for dangers in his classroom. Though Professor Snape was all too eager to give Harry detentions in class to "cover" for his time with Professor McGonagall after hours, Harry felt the man seemed to enjoy issuing them with far too much glee.

At least he had made progress with his animagus form; his second session with McGonagall was as tiring for both of them as the first. He had experimented further with the red and gray lights; the "marker" they put in seemed to make it easier to reclaim territory from the abyss in his second ritual. Even still, it had taken him several hours for only a few inches of progress.

Harry's mind snapped back to the potions question as he ran his hand through his messy hair. "Who could I ask about that? Who would know about potions other than Professor Snape?"

Harry's mind ran through ideas before suddenly the curtains on his bed were wrenched open. "Potter! They announced when flying lessons will be given to all First Years!" Draco seemed giddy with excitement as Harry set his parchment over on his bedside table.

"Flying lessons? Are we going to learn how to fly with magic?" Harry smirked, as he remembered Draco's diatribes at Diagon Alley. When he had gotten access to the library here at Hogwarts, he had looked up Quidditch. He knew about brooms, but as Draco's face turned purple, Harry's smirk turned into a grin.

"You… you…" Draco's face soon turned an absolutely lovely shade of plum.

"Calm your knickers, Draco. I know it'll be for brooms." Harry laughed, unable to keep up the joke upon seeing the face his friend was making. It looked like he had swallowed an entire lemon!

"Potter, you're a menace." Draco huffed, his face returning to normal as he crossed his arms. "Father said he'd send me my broom next year, but I hope I impress the teacher enough that she gives me an exception to try for the team. There's an old rule about it, that if a first-year's skills are good enough, they can tryout for it!" Harry nodded, considering. "So when's class?"

"Slytherin's next Thursday, at three in the afternoon. It'll be with the Gryffindors, though I hear if anyone isn't comfortable with their brooms they can also join the second class on Friday with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. If any of the Ravens or Puffs have trouble, they're allowed to see the Professor on Saturday."

Harry was thoughtful, as he finally gave a nod. "I see, alright, that sounds fun!"

Draco had a wistful look on his face. "Flying is incredible, Potter. You'll see. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before."

"If you love flying so much, why don't you marry it?" Harry said, remembering something Dudley had said to him years ago that made him giggle. Though, he didn't think Dudley meant it as a joke at the time.

Draco opened his mouth, only to let out a confused sputtering. "What?!" The pureblood princeling's train of thought had abruptly and suddenly derailed. Harry laughed so hard that he fell back on the bed, Amber moving to get out of the way and slithering to coil around one of the banisters. Draco simply looked lost and confused before Harry explained the joke.

"A muggle joke! I should have known. Like I said, Potter. Utter menace." Draco said. That simply made Harry laugh harder, as Draco rolled his eyes and began to laugh as well.

With something to look forward to, Harry, Draco, Ron, Neville, and Hermione all seemed eager to try the flying classes. Neville and Hermione seemed scared and apprehensive. The closer they got to the class, the more they became afraid.

As Thursday rolled around, lunch hour soon saw the group sitting at the Slytherin table. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting farther down the table to give Draco privacy with his friends, something they had started to do on Draco's request. After a moment, Neville spoke up, "What if I get hurt tomorrow?"

Draco shook his head. "Professor Hooch is a world-renowned quidditch referee. She was a ref for three different World Cups, and knows how to help people if they fall. Don't worry, Neville." Hermione suddenly hopped in place, her voice high in panic. "But there's been at least one injury for first-years every single year running for the past seventy-two years! I-I don't like heights!"

Harry sighed. He wished he could be there for his friends, but their classes weren't together for this. What should he do? Draco shrugged. "Granger, flying is an important part of the wizarding world. It's a major method of transportation, especially for those who don't want to Apparate."

"Apparate?" Harry and Hermione asked simultaneously. Ron groaned and Neville spoke up. "It's a type of teleportation. Only adults are allowed to do it because it's wicked hard."

"Yeah, we can't learn that until sixth or seventh year." Draco nodded, agreeing with Neville. "So we have to learn to fly no matter what?" Hermione asked, dejected.

"No matter what." Neville said with a morose tone. Harry took a deep breath and shook his head before placing his hand on the table. "Don't worry. I'll come and help you during your class."

"What?" All four of Harry's friends spoke at once, looking at him.

"I said I'll come and help. Anyone who isn't comfortable with handling a broom after the class is allowed to come for the second class, right? I'll simply say I'm not comfortable with handling a broom." Ron looked at Harry as if his head had turned to a pile of cow manure, before commenting, "Blimey, mate. Now you're wanting to sit through TWO classes? You're mental."

Harry sighed. "What, would you rather Neville and Hermione learn by themselves?" Ron and Draco said at the same time, "Yes!" The two froze, then looked at each other as their expressions changed to disgust at sharing the same opinion.

Recovering, Draco added, "It's an important part of being a wizard, Potter. You can't spoon-feed everyone like that. Besides, I hear Longbottom has enough problems. All the rumors say he's a squib who got into Hogwarts by mistake." The comment made Harry frown, as Neville looked dejected. "I assume being a squib is a bad thing?"

"It means someone magical who has no magic. Their bodies cannot access the magic in the world so they can't physically use it." Hermione added. Harry was quick to speak up, a fierce tone cutting through the air like a dagger. "Neville definitely isn't a squip!"

Ron let out a chuckle as Draco smirked. After a second of confusion on Harry's face, Hermione prodded his side. "Squib, Harry."

"Oh."

The mood was lightened, enough for Neville to give a chuckle as he looked at Harry. "Thanks, Harry."

"Anytime, Neville. Don't let anyone say you're a squib. Ever." Harry said as he crossed his arms in frustration. "Well, what if it's true? My accidental magic only appeared when I was nine, Harry. And look."

Harry saw Neville take out his wand, swishing and flicking it at a plate. His form was perfect, Harry noticed, as he could see Neville's magic flow around him, to his wand.

As suddenly as it came, it stopped. The plate wiggled, but didn't budge, as Ron laughed, "Hah! You really are a squib!".

"Maybe you're just needing more practice," Harry offered, glaring at Ron. Why had Neville's magic stopped when it reached his wand? That made no sense. Whenever he looked at anyone else, he could see their magic push into the wand almost like the wand itself was a filter.

"How about I try to help you this weekend, Neville?" Hermione asked. Neville nodded weakly, still looking dejected as Ron laughed. After a few seconds more, Harry stamped his foot. "Ron!" Harry shouted.

"What?"

"It's not funny." Harry's serious look forced Ron to pause. He peered around at the others sitting at the table, and then crossed his arms with a huff. "Well, I thought it was funny."

Ron continued to grump as Draco stood up. "Well, Potter, Weasley. There's an hour until class. Should we head there early? Maybe we'll be able to see the brooms." Even before Draco finished the sentence, Harry immediately stood up. "Wicked! Yeah, let's go! Neville, Hermione, don't worry. I'll make sure to be there tomorrow for your class too."

Ron scoffed, and waved his hand. "I'll be there when I have to be. No sense wasting my lunchtime for extra class." He then grabbed more food, scarfing it down in a hurry as the others turned away from the grisly sight. All four of them had quickly learned not to look at Ron when he was eating. Draco and Harry turned and headed out of the Great Hall, eager to see the brooms outside.

Leaving the castle, the day was a breezy one as a gentle and cool wind seemed to greet Harry and Draco. Crabbe and Goyle hurried to catch up, running down the stone stairs to join the two. When the small group arrived, they saw Madame Hooch floating a few trunks into the middle of the western grounds.

"Hello, Professor!" Harry said as they walked up. "Need some help?"

Madame Hooch seemed surprised at the offer, but shook her head. "No, thank you though, Potter. Three points to Slytherin, however, for each of you due to punctuality." Madame Hooch flicked her wand, as the trunks opened as brooms flew out and lined up. There were around thirty of them, enough for two classes.

Harry noticed they all were exceptionally old; the runes on the base of the bristles seemed faded and their magic bare. As he looked at them, they seemed to almost give faint gasps, as if they were living beings desperate to stay alive.

"Professor, these brooms look ancient. Are they the brooms we'll be using?" Harry looked towards the Professor, concern on his face. As he asked, Draco snorted. "I can't believe how old these brooms are. They're downright disgraceful. My father would never allow something so crude to be his first time flying."

"Well, Mister Malfoy, perhaps you can inform your Father that Hogwarts requires funds from the Ministry for new brooms. If I recall correctly, he was one of those who voted against increasing the budget of the Quidditch supplies of the castle, which meant that once again we're required to use older brooms."

Draco's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, quieting down. "Lord Malfoy is in charge of Hogwarts' funding?" Harry asked, this new tidbit catching his attention. "One of them, Mister Potter. Lord Malfoy is one of the Seven Hogwarts Governors, and is currently the Regent of the Board. Thus, the Board, and by association Lord Malfoy, are in charge of the school's budget received from the Ministry."

Harry nodded, grinning. "I heard about the Governors from Hogwarts: A History, but didn't know Lord Malfoy was one of them, let alone the Regent. That's really cool, Draco. It's something to be proud of."

Draco puffed his chest out with pride as Harry lost himself in thought. More students started to arrive as Madame Hooch went about and cast spells on the brooms, removing a few that she judged to be too dangerous. She quickly replaced the removed brooms with slightly-better brooms from the trunks.

It took a little while, but before long, Harry noticed most of the students had arrived. There was the ringing of the castle bell, indicating that the next class was about to begin. Harry noticed Ron lazily wandering from the castle, talking with Seamus and Dean Thomas as he walked down the steps as the bell finished ringing.

"Alright, line up, everyone line up." Madame Hooch said as she took out a whistle. "I am Professor Rolanda Hooch, the current Quidditch manager of Hogwarts and the Flying Instructor. I am here today to teach all of you the basics of how to fly a broom."

Harry moved next to Draco, whose other side was taken by Crabbe. Ron stood across from Harry, looking eager and excited himself.

"Those of you with talent or skill might be able to join the Quidditch teams next year, so let this be a reason to do well. We will be holding these lessons today for Slytherin and Gryffindor, and then tomorrow for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Anyone who believes they require more training may come tomorrow, but after Saturday, brooms will not be allowed to First Years until the new year. After then, further instruction will be provided with signed permission from your parents or guardians."

Harry frowned. How would he get that? He wasn't going back to the Dursleys during Christmas, after all. He was shaken out of it by Draco, who nudged his side as Madame Hooch continued, "Now, to begin with, put your hands over your broom. When I give the signal, tell your broom in a firm and commanding voice, 'Up'."

Professor Hooch put her whistle to her lips and blew it. A chorus of voices echoed over the green field immediately, as Harry raised his hand over his broom.

"Up!" Harry said, as the broom's magic flickered to life. Harry gently added his own magic, letting it coil around the broom like a guiding light as it snapped into his hand with enough force that Harry gave a surprised yelp.

Next to him, Draco's broom had moved upwards with substantially less force, but still had quickly shot into his hand. Ron looked at the two, glaring as he had to say it repeatedly, his broom wiggling on the ground.

"You can do it, Ron!" Harry said, looking over and trying to encourage his friend, "You almost have it!"

"Shut it, Potter!" Ron said, as he shouted, loudly this time. "UP!"

Harry saw the broom merely wiggle once again. Maybe it didn't have enough magic? Harry discreetly sent some of his magic over, making sure to keep it hidden under the grass as it moved. Feeling the magic ooze from him, he guided it to Ron's broom and allowed it to swirl into and around it.

"I said UP, you bloody broom!" Ron snarled. This time, the broom immediately took action and leapt up, but missed Ron's hand. Shooting forward with momentum that it hadn't had before, it rushed directly into Ron's face with a loud WHAP!

Harry gasped as Ron shouted, rubbing his nose. Harry immediately felt guilty; that was his fault, wasn't it? Madame Hooch hurried over, removing Ron's hands from his face. "Just a light bruising. It missed breaking your nose by an inch, Mister Weasley. You are fine; the only thing injured here was your pride."

She returned to assisting others, moving to help Crabbe, who seemed to be having trouble even getting his broom to move. Harry watched the others, though Ron seemed quite angry as he rubbed the small bruise from the broom handle connecting with his forehead.

Soon enough, the Slytherins all had their brooms in hand. The Gryffindors achieved the same almost immediately after, with the Slytherins grinning haughtily at the Griffindors. "Excellent work, everyone!" Madame Hooch said.

"Now. On my signal, I want you to raise one leg over the broom while holding the handle with both hands. DO NOT use only one hand, mind you! You need to have total control of your broom while mounting. Once you are over your broom, I want all of you to try to guide its magic to stay in place and lift your legs off the ground, letting the broom support your weight."

Harry nodded, mostly to himself as he listened. It didn't seem too bad, right? Madame Hooch's whistle echoed around the greens as Harry lifted his leg over the broom. He could feel its magic, infused by his own, acting like a cat about to pounce. It was like getting onto a revving motorbike, or at least as Harry imagined it'd be.

Focused on the broom, he held it with both hands as he felt its magic seem to right itself in place. It was like he was sitting on a concrete divider; it seemed to stay solidly in place as Harry raised his legs. He was doing it! He was flying!

Next to him, Harry could see Draco's broom, but in the bristles something was a little off about it. It was like there was another magical point within the bristles. Still, Draco was floating in place, as Harry wondered if his eyesight was wrong this time.

"Now, I want all of you to rise four feet and then stay hovering there. No one is to go beyond those four feet or you will be banned from flying until your seventh year!." Harry saw Madame Hooch take out her own broom, quickly mounting it and flying into the air. After a second further, she blew the whistle.

Suddenly, a golden orb of some kind shot from the bristles of Draco's broom and into the air. The Snitch, which had been mistakenly kept with the old brooms, had activated with the new whistle and suddenly buzzed into the sky.

Harry's eye immediately caught the glint of gold, and next to him Draco could see it as well. As Madame Hooch flew over to help Lavender Brown take off, Draco and Harry shot off like a pair of bullets, streaking after the golden orb.

Harry felt the wind at his hair as Draco laughed. "Come on, Potter! I bet I'll catch the snitch before you!" Harry heard shouting behind him, but his blood was pumping with adrenaline. His magic seemed to react to this freedom about him. He could go anywhere. Do anything. And no one could stop him. A foxlike growl echoed from his throat, "You're on!"

Draco grinned, and suddenly shot off after the orb, Harry moving behind him. The two were flying fast as they dipped down, the golden glint moving towards Hagrid's cottage.

Harry could hear someone behind him, but the blowing wind was picking up and silenced the voice that was trying to get their attention. Shooting down and twisting on the broom, Harry's broom seemed to dance and slid around the top of the hut as the orb shot out of sight once again.

Seeing the chance gone, Harry spun around on the broom, moving in a fast circle as he saw Hagrid step from the hut, the wind from his movement blowing the large man's beard. "Sorry, Hagrid!" Harry called, though he didn't know if the man would hear him.

Draco was shooting forward now, having seen it out of the corner of his eye. Harry grinned, the exhilaration making even more adrenaline rush through him. Hurrying, he shot after him with all the speed he could muster. Twisting the broom in a circle around Draco, Harry laughed at the wind whipping around him. At the last moment, Harry saw Draco grin as the Snitch dived towards the castle wall in a straight line.

The two shot forward, once more neck and neck as they both reached out. Draco, however, saw how close the castle wall was and pulled back, shooting to the left. Regardless of the danger, Harry only had his eyes on the golden Snitch as he reached out at the last moment.

His fingers brushed against it, feeling the cold metal against his hand. At the very last second, the boy turned the broom and made it graze against the wall. Harry felt his feet skid over the stone, laughing at the strange feeling under him. Bringing the broom to a halt, he hovered in the air and looked at the shimmering golden orb in his hand with a grin.

Suddenly, Harry froze, realizing where he was... and what he did. He heard a voice behind him; at that exact moment, dread slid into him. "Dear Merlin, Potter. What sort of flying prodigy are you? Get back down with the rest of the House before I have to expel the best flyer this school has seen in a thousand years!"

Harry saw Madame Hooch fly up beside him, the boy timidly reaching out and offering her the golden Snitch. She took it before flying alongside him and back down to the greens, her eyes never leaving him.

Both Houses were clapping, Nott giving a loud whooping cheer as the Gryffindors were somewhat less enthusiastic. Ron seemed to be as red as his hair, but he said nothing. Harry moved to land and hop off the broom.

"Mister Potter! Mister Malfoy! That was the absolute most ridiculous, foolish, and yet incredible thing I have seen from First Years in my entire time in Hogwarts!" Madame Hooch shouted. "First, that will be fifty points from Slytherin - EACH, for your callous disregard for safety and instructions."

The Slytherins groaned, while the Gryffindors whooped with joy. "However, each of you may take forty points for some of the best flying I have seen during my tenure at this school."

The Slytherins gave a half-hearted cheer- it wasn't enough to cover the points they had just lost, after all. "Now, I will be reporting both of you to your Head of House, for recommendation to allow you to join the Slytherin Quidditch team a year early."

The astonished murmurs from both houses were eclipsed by a loud "WHAT!" from a certain red-haired boy. "That's not fair!" Seamus Finnegan shouted as well.

"Despite their serious lack of judgment, both showed a prowess with flight that is well beyond their years. Their Head of House has the final decision, however. I will merely recommend them." Madame Hooch explained. Harry saw Ron's angry glare in his direction, returning it with a sheepish grin that only served to make Ron's anger worse.

"Now, any of you who believe they need extra lessons may come here tomorrow at the same time as today and join those in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff in their lesson. Until then, class dismissed! Leave your brooms on the ground; I shall collect them."

A storm of discussion and activity echoed across the greens as Harry walked over to put his broom into the trunk; he might as well make it a little easier for the Professor after causing so much chaos. After he placed the broom into the trunk, Harry turned to head back to the castle. However, he was interrupted when Ron suddenly shoved past Harry, almost tipping him over from the ferocity of the shove. Before Harry could try to say anything, Ron had moved out of sight into the castle.

Before he could think too much about it, Nott came up behind Harry and slapped his back. "I told you, Potter. Interesting." With that said, he too went back to the castle and left Harry with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

-Author's Notes-

So! Since Harry has friends in all four Houses, and the flying lessons were for Slytherin and Gryffindor, and then for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, he needs a reason to join the second class. But I think our sly little fox will have an easy time thinking up a reason to sneak in, don't you?

If you're interested in Betaing and Editing, let me know! Kaminton8 and Angie both worked on this chapter, but the more people we have, the less work each individual has to do!

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, not me.