Malfoy hates Potter

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'Well, that was pathetic, Potter,' said Draco Malfoy loudly. Harry was walking in front of him as they made their way up a steep staircase leading out of the dungeon.

'Leave him alone, Malfoy,' muttered Harry's redhead friend, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet.

'You didn't do better yourself, Weasley,' Draco sniggered. 'Neither did you, Longbottom. What a cute little trio of losers.'

Neville Longbottom had about a dozen painful blisters on his fingers from spilling the unfinished elixir on himself back in the dungeon. He fixed his eyes on the floor, and his face flushed.

Leilla and Daphne looked at each other and Daphne rolled her eyes. Pansy, however, seemed very excited, while Milicent and Tracey giggled brainlessly behind her.

'Get stuffed, Malfoy,' said Harry's friend again, but Hermione Granger grabbed him by the arm.

'Leave it...' she said, looking coldly at Pansy and her gang, still giggling. The Gryffindors quickly disappeared around the corner, followed by Draco's laughter.

As they made their way to their next class – History of Magic – Leilla felt unnerved. Draco Malfoy had already confirmed every rumour there was about Slytherin house, and she could tell he was just getting started.

Next week was their first flying lesson, which they shared with Gryffindors again. The lessons took place outside, on the grounds, and when they got there, twenty broomsticks were already lying in neat lines on the ground.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes giving her the look of a hawk.

'Well, what are you all waiting for?' she barked. Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.'

The broom Leilla picked was very old and worn-out, but not as bad as some of the other ones. Broomsticks were a popular form of magical transport, but they were also used at a wizarding sport called Quidditch. Leilla heard that every house at Hogwarts had their own Quidditch team. Even though she didn't quite know the rules, she was keen to watch the game once the season started in November.

'Stick out your right hand over your broom,' called Madam Hooch at the front, 'and say 'Up!'

'UP' everyone shouted.

The broom proved very reluctant to get into Leilla's hand, but it eventually did, along with a few others. Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their broomstick without sliding off the end.

'You're doing it wrong, boy,' she scolded Draco, and corrected his grip.

'But I've been holding it like that for years,' he protested.

'Then you've been doing it wrong,' barked Madam Hooch, and a few sniggers sounded from Gryffindors. Draco scowled at them.

'Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,' said Madam Hooch. 'Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two—'

Before she could finish the sentence, one of the students shot off into the air. Everyone gasped and saw Neville Longbottom rise up higher and higher, wobbling on the broom he had clearly never flown before.

'Come back here, boy!' yelled Madam Hooch, and Neville did, only not in the way she would've liked. He wobbled left and right, and then slid off the broomstick, landing on the ground with a loud thud.

Madam Hooch leapt toward him, looking white as paper.

'Broken wrist,' she muttered. 'None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear.'

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