Harry Potter and the Reluctant Rebirth

Chapter 6

Word spread fast and less than a week after the first flying class, everyone learned that the famous Harry Potter was terrified of flying. The worst part? No one believed me when I told them why.

Sure, my classmates understood, but older students thought it was some elaborate joke. It wasn't until I nearly clawed out someone's eyeball when they tried to put me on a broom did the information finally sink in.

Then there were my detentions. Granted, I enjoyed most of them and thankfully, Draco had little to complain during that month. Guess all he did were lines. But the worst detention showed up on the very last Sunday.

"Neville, the Forgetfulness potion needs 4 mistletoe berries, not elderberries..." I was hunched over my own potions essay in the library with Neville when I noticed the mistake.

Neville blinked, staring at his paper then bit his lips, "I keep forgetting..."

Ironic considering the potion we're about to brew in October. "Professor Snape won't let students with low marks make the potion, said it would be dangerous for both the brewer and everyone around them..." I watch as Neville fixes his mistake, "Try to remind yourself the ingredients before class."

"Okay... I'll try. Do..." He nervously looks over his shoulder, as if looking for someone. "Do you think he would let us be partners? You're so good at it and... I'm not..."

That's an interesting thought. I've never seen that happen in the books but then again Rowling loved to make it very clear that Slytherins and Gryffindors hated each other. "Possibly, I could ask him if I have detention with him today."

Speaking of detention, a tawny owl knocked on the window. I slowly opened the window to avoid any more noises and earn angry shushes from the librarian. The owl dropped off its usual letter and flew off without making a noise, seems like it has had its fair share of scoldings.

Opening the letter, I had to swallow in the vulgar language that has been dying to escape my mouth for the last several years.

"I have detention with Quirrell..."

"That's not too bad, at least he's nice," Neville spoke with a slight quiver in his voice, everyone knows I hate his class. Everyone except the teachers it seems.

"Sure he is... gah..." I rub my forehead, mentally preparing for the migraine that's about to spark.

"Harry, did you know some of the students use you to... to, you know, judge how well the lesson was?"

"Oh? I hummed, still rubbing my forehead which was beginning to develop a heartbeat from agitation.

"Mhm," Neville nodded, "Since you get high marks in the class and the only one brave enough to question the professor, they're starting to think you know what we should learn."

"Perhaps... I just don't see the point in learning about vampires and other creatures like them if he won't teach us the spells for them. Well, I'll see you later, Neville."

Gathering my school supplies, I headed out for the DADA classroom. I had to take take a minor detour because some Ravenclaws decided it would be a good idea to snog in the hallway. They do realize there are empty rooms for this kind of thing, right? And here I thought Ravenclaws was the house of knowledge.

Naturally, the first thing I encounter is the obnoxious smell of garlic. I almost looked forward to Lockhart taking over, at least he'd keep the room smelling nice. But then again we're going to learn absolutely nothing that year from him. It's a lose-lose situation no matter how I looked at it.

Oh right... I have a fifty-foot snake to kill next year, joy is me.

"Ah, P-Potter, n-n-n-nice to h-h-have you." Quirrell's quivering voice caught my attention. He was sitting at his desk, nervously fidgeting in his seat with some papers. "I-I w-w-would like y-y-you t-t-to-"