Rose had never believed she would meet a boy she hated more than Dudley, but that was before she met Draco Malfoy.
Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much.
Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan.
Flying lessons would be starting Thursday- and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.
''Typical,'' said Rose darkly. ''Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.''
She had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.
''You don't know that you'll make a fool out of yourself,'' said Ron reasonably. ''Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk.''
Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot; so did everyone that came from wizarding families, they talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer.
Rose couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly.
At breakfast, on Thursday everyone's conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.
Rose hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.
A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitingly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.
''It's a Remembrall!'' he explained. ''Gran knows I forget things- this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red- oh...'' his face fell because the Remembrall had suddenly gone scarlet, ''...you've forgotten something...''
Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Close behind him were Parkinson and Zabini, Zabini shot her an apologetic look.
Rose jumped to her feet. She was half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.
''What's going on?''
''Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor.''
Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.
''Just looking,'' he said and shot a glare at Rose before he walked away with Parkinson and Zabini behind him.
At three-thirty that afternoon, Rose, Ron, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson.
It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.
The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Rose had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew to high, or always flew slightly to the left.
Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.
''Well, what are you all waiting for?'' she barked. ''Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.''
Rose glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.
''Stick out your dominant hand over your broom,'' called Madam Hooch at the front, ''and say 'UP!' ''
''UP!'' everyone shouted.
Rose's broom flew to her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did.
Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.
''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-''
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened pf 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.
Rose 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 facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest.
Madam Hooch was kneeling over Neville, her face as white as his.
''Broken wrist,'' Rose heard her mutter. ''Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get.''
She turned to the rest of the class.
''None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where there are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quiddich'. 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?''
The other Slytherins joined in.
''Shut up, Malfoy.'' snapped Parvatti Patil.
''Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?'' said Pansy Parkinson. ''Never thought you'd like little cry babies, Parvati.''
Rose clenched her fist.
''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.
''Give that here, Malfoy.'' said Rose quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Malfoy smiled nastily.
''I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about- up a tree?''
''Give it here!'' Rose yelled, but Malfoy leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well.
Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, ''Come and get it, Potter!''
Rose grabbed her broom.
''No!'' shouted Hermione Granger. ''Madam Hooch told us not not to move - you'll get us all in trouble.''
Rose ignored her. Blood was pounding in her ears. She mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up she soared; air rushed through her hair, and her robes whipped out behind her- and in a rush of fierce joy she realized she'd found something she could do without being taught - this was easy, this was wonderful.
She pulled her broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams of girls and gasps of guys back on the ground, and an admiring whoop from Ron.
She turned her broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.
''Give it here,'' Rose called, ''or I'll knock you off your broom.''
''Oh, yeah?'' sneered Mafloy.
Rose knew, somehow, exactly what to do. She leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot forward toward Malfoy. He only just got out of the way in time; Rose made a sharp turn and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.
''Catch it if you can, then!'' he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.
Rose saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall.
She leaned forward and pointed her broom handle down- next second she was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball- wind whistled in her ears, mingled with the screams of people watching- she stretched out her hand- a foot from the ground she caught it, just in time to pull her broom straight, and she toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in her fist.
''ROSE POTTER!''