Nico Di Angelo at Hogwarts (book 1)

Flying

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

"UP!" we all shouted. Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Mine had jumped up a few inches, before falling back onto the grass with dull thud. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid. There was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground, and although I'd never admit it to anyone, I was a little afraid too. I'd never really commanded anyone before, even Minos, not properly and I didn't exactly want to look incompetent in front of Malfoy, he'd only bring it up again later. It listened to me the second time, and when we all had our brooms in hand, Madam Hooch showed us how to mount them, without sliding off the end. She walked up and down the rows, correcting our grips. Harry, Ron and I were delighted when she told Malfoy that he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"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 forwards slightly. On my whistle - three - two-" But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. I saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and - WHAM. A thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay, face down on the grass in a heap. He wasn't dead, that much I could tell. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily towards the Forbidden Forest and out of sight. Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," I heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get." She turned to the rest of us. "None of you 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." Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Some of the other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil, shocking most of us.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up. I felt a surge of anger, which surprised me, but I'd had enough of Malfoy, but before I could do anything, Harry quietly spoke.

"Give that here, Malfoy," Everyone stopped talking to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect - how about - up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt on to his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well - hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak as he called down to Harry.

"Come and get it, Potter!" Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble." Harry ignored her, and I turned to him.

"Knock him off his broom, will you?" I asked. He grinned, mounted his broom and kicked hard against the ground. He soared up and up, the wind rushing his hair and robes behind him. He pulled his broomstick up a little and several of the girls gasped and screamed and Ron gave an admiring whoop. He was a natural. He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in mid-air. From what I could see, Malfoy looked stunned. I could only just hear what they were saying from where I was.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy. Harry lent forward and grasped the broom tightly with both hands and it shot towards Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about turn and held the broom steady. A few people clapped.

"No Crabbe or Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called. The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground. Harry lent forward and pointed his broom handle down - next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball - people started to scream and even I held my breath in anticipation - he stretched out his hand - a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Hello again :)

Thought you'd like a longer chapter this time. I know my updates are few and far between, but in my defence, my GCSEs are in May and I took a coursework subject (art if you're interested). Well, anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments, don't be shy.

-GazelleRLG