Disclaimer - I do not own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter
Nico's POV
I returned to my mistform body again last night, tied up in a corner, with Annabeth, Grover, and Tyson. It seemed that Geryon had double crossed me, and had intended to barbeque us. He was only a backup, a way to find a soul I could exchange for Bianca's, in case I failed in taking Voldemort's. Percy ended up killing Geryon, but then he insisted I contact Bianca, claiming she had been IMing him. Turns out she was. She told me to stop trying to get her back, and to forgive Percy. After all, holding grudges is dangerous for a child of Hades, or at least that's what she said. It would take more than her pleading to dissuade me from my mission though. She would be happy once I succeeded. Sometimes I wished I could talk to Harry and Ron about it all, but I knew I never could. Speaking of Harry and Ron, it had been a while since I had seen them. I had to sit at the Slytherin table, so I couldn't really see them then, and we only had Potions with the Gryffindors. Even in our free periods, I couldn't see them. I had left with too much homework and not enough time to do it. To make it worse, I couldn't seem to shake Malfoy. Every other second, he was there trying to make my life unbearable. Then, this morning we all woke up to a notice. Flying lessons would begin on Thursday - and Gryffindor would be learning with us. I felt a brief bit of panic, before I found a letter from Hecate reassuring me that I would be safe to fly. Apparently the magical realm was beyond Zeus' sphere of influence. Unfortunately, this notice led to an endless amount of bragging from Malfoy, who seemed to love flying. He would complain loudly about first-years never getting in the house Quidditch teams and tell long, boastful stories, which always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one though, I had caught snippets of broom-related stories from several people in the hallways, like Seamus Finnigan and even Ron. I heard that Hermione had taken out the Quidditch through the Ages book, to read up on the subject, although the Gryffindors appeared to wish she hadn't, as she bored them all stupid with facts.
The post arrived at breakfast, bringing Neville Longbottom a small package, which caught Malfoy's eye. I rolled my eyes, knowing he was about to do something entirely unsophisticated. I saw him snatch the item out of Neville's hand, and Harry and Ron abruptly stood up to defend him. I quickly moved over, more than happy to help them out. The three of us were all half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but 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 sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. I nodded to Harry and Ron, before heading back to the Slytherin table.
At three-thirty that afternoon, I hurried down the front steps with the Gryffindors into the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day and the grass rippled under our feet as we marched down the sloping lawn to the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The rest of the Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had told me that Fred and George had said, or rather complained, that the school brooms were horrid: apparently some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. We joined the Slytherins as our teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey 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." I glanced down at my broom, it was old, and looked quite fragile, but it wasn't as bad as Harry's. His broom looked even older and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.
"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