Rosabella Black|Daughter of Sirius Black| (Book 1)

Midnight Duel

Rosabella's Point of View:

The tension between Harry and Draco increased as did mine. The way Malfoy looked at me set my teeth on edge. Luckily, first year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so we didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, we didn't until we spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room which made us all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday – and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.
   
"Typical. Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy." Harry said, darkly.
He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.
   
"You don't know you'll make a fool of yourself." I said, soothingly.
    
"Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk." Ron said.

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first - years never getting in the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories which always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. I called bull shit on that.

He wasn't the only one, though. The way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang-glider on Charlie's old broom. I talked about the little Quidditch matches my brothers would get into. Jason and Jacob vs Lucas and me. Michael would join in sometimes but he preferred to referee. Whenever Tonks was around we do three vs three. Michael would join the twins and Tonks would be with Lucas and me.

Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. According to Harry, Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about football. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry told me he had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham football team, trying to make the players move. Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one.

Privately, I felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground. Hermione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book – not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored the boys stupid with flying tips she'd got out of a library book called Quidditch through the Ages. I giggled silently at their expressions.

Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the post. Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course.
Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

Uncle Remus sent us regular letters, along with Aunt Andromeda, Uncle Ted and Tonks. Tonks had just started her Auror training. A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed us a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke. 
   
"It's a Remembrall! Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh . . ." Neville said and as he explained the Remembrall glowed scarlet.

Neville face fell.
   
". . . you've forgotten something . . ." Neville finish and he then was trying to remember what he'd forgotten.
I laughed softly.

Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Harry, Ron and I jumped to our feet.

I was hoping, no begging, for a reason to fight Malfoy. But Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.
  
"What's going on?" Professor McGonagall said.
  
"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor." Neville said.