The Covenant's Blood

Dumb Dumb

Harry was particularly excited for this class.

Flying has always been something he was eager to practice, dreaming to make it to the quidditch team like his father did. It must feel so liberating, to feel the air hitting your face softly as you navigate through the trees of the Forbidden Forest or the towers of the castle.

The professor, Emmeline Vance, arrives on her broom. She's one of Harry's heroes. She fought bravely at his parents' side during the war, and ended up disabled because of it. Since then, she's always on her broom. She mastered the art of flying to a point no else has ever done, which is why both Harry and Hermione are impatient to learn from her.

"Good afternoon, class." She starts with a smile. Her black hair is locked in a tight bun, making her look older, and stern. Harry knows through his parents that she's actually very friendly. "Welcome to your first flying lesson."

They all look at her silently, probably mesmerized to meet her in person. There's something fascinating about her, about how brave she acted during the war, but also after. A lot of people would have lived a quiet life, never leaving their bed or house, after the traumatizing events she went through. But not her. She lost the control of her legs and decided she didn't need them anyway.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She loses her smile. "Everyone steps up to the left side of their broomstick."

The class is quite uneventful for a while. Harry finds himself staring at the blonde boy more than once. Today, a strand of hair is not slicked correctly and falls on his face. It's enough to make him blush from time to time, his broom becoming uninteresting for a bit.

At some point, Neville loses control of his broom and hurts himself. Professor Vance looks annoyed to have to cut the lesson short, but accompanies him to the infirmary nonetheless.

"Did you see his face?" Draco laughs, playing with a ball. Harry remembers seeing Neville carrying it. He doesn't know Neville particularly, but he's still very much against bullying.

"Malfoy." He calls out, frowning. "Don't be a bully."

"Aw, little Potter is leading an anti-bullying campaign. Isn't that cute?"

"Give it to me."

"Nah, I don't think so. I think I'll-"

He's interrupted by a squeeze on his shoulder. Zabini stands behind him, a warning look on his face. They seem to have a whole conversation without any words, before Draco loudly sighs.

"Fine." He holds the ball high from the ground. "Catch it."

Before it reaches the ground, Harry lets himself fall and catches the Remembrall, hurting his knee in the process. He curses under his breath before standing up. Malfoy looks at him for a brief moment, visibly looking for the next insult he could spit, but gives up. Along with his little crew, they walk towards the castle, and are quickly followed by everyone. Harry puts the Remembrall in his pocket and starts walking behind the crowd.

"You know, you're not being smart."

Harry jumps, surprised to find Zabini right behind him, his breath having hit his ear. He blinks, expecting anyone but him to give him advice. Well, at least it looks like the beginning of an advice. If it's not, then he's not great at being a bully.

"What do you mean?"

"You only speak to Slytherins to pick fights. Do you want to spend your school years surrounded by enemies?"