Neville Longbottom and The Boy Who Lived

Chapter 6: The First Flying lesson

Neville Longbottom stirred in his four-poster bed, the early morning light filtering through the windows of the Gryffindor dormitory. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up and stretched, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling in his chest. Today was the day he would finally find out his schedule for the week.

Quickly dressing in his school robes and tying his Gryffindor scarf around his neck, Neville made his way down the staircase and into the common room. The room was already buzzing with activity as other students chatted and laughed, but Neville's attention was drawn to the notice board hanging on the wall.
Eager to see what the week had in store for him, Neville stepped closer to the notice board, only to be halted by the groans of the other first-year students who had already seen it. Confused, Neville furrowed his brow and read the announcement for himself - flying lessons would begin on Thursday, and Gryffindor would be sharing the class with Slytherin. The thought of facing Malfoy on a broomstick filled him with fear. Neville had never even been on a broomstick before in his life, a fact that puzzled many of his classmates.

As Neville's eyes lingered on the announcement, memories of his childhood flooded back to him. His grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, had always been fiercely protective of him and had kept him sheltered from anything she deemed too dangerous.

One particular incident stood out in Neville's mind. When he was around seven years old, he had discovered an old broomstick hidden away in the attic. Excited by the prospect of flying, he had begged his grandmother to let him try it out. But Augusta had been horrified by the suggestion.
"Neville, you must never go near a broomstick," she had said, her voice firm and unyielding. "Flying is not a skill for Longbottoms. It's far too dangerous, and I will not have you putting yourself at risk."
And so, the broomstick had been locked away once more, and Neville's dreams of soaring through the sky had been dashed. He had never questioned his grandmother's authority, but now, as he faced the prospect of flying lessons at Hogwarts, he couldn't help but feel a hint of resentment.

Neville sat nervously at the Gryffindor table during breakfast, his hands fidgeting with anticipation for his first flying lesson at Hogwarts. To his surprise, Hermione seemed to share his apprehension about flying, her usual confidence replaced by a hint of anxiety.
As Neville picked at his food, Hermione suddenly launched into a monologue about flying tips she had leaned from a library book called Quidditch through the Ages. Hermione's voice rang out, "when mounting your broomstick, always ensure you have a firm grip on the handle and lean slightly forward to maintain balance. Keep your eyes focused straight ahead and try to relax your body to allow for better manoeuvrability."
Neville's eyes widened as he hung on to her every word, desperate for any knowledge that might help him navigate the skies later that day. Hermione continued, her tone confident and knowledgeable, "When it comes to steering, gentle movements are key. Shift your weight subtly in the direction you want to turn, and remember to anticipate your movements to maintain control."
Neville nodded fervently, mentally noting down Hermione's instructions.
However, as Hermione delved deeper into the intricacies of flying techniques, the rest of the Gryffindor table began to grow restless.

Just as the tension at the table reached its peak, her lecture was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of the post owls swooping down with letters and packages. A barn owl swooped down towards Neville, carrying a small package in its talons. Neville's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the distinctive handwriting on the parcel – it was from his grandmother. The Note Read:

Dear Neville,

I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to express my heartfelt congratulations on being sorted into Gryffindor! I am so proud of the wizard you are becoming.

Enclosed is a little gift for you, something I believe will not only serve as a token of celebration but also a practical aid in your magical endeavours.

Remember, I am always here for you, cheering you on from afar. Keep shining bright, my dear grandson.

With all my love,
Gran