"Up!" Morag Macdougal's broom flew up into her hand as if she had attached a string to it and pulled. I only really remember her because Neville had run off with the Sorting Hat before her turn, but we also shared a dorm.
I stared at the broom lying in the grass and sighed. "Up." It flew into my hand.
Once everyone had a broom in their hand, Madam Hooch instructed us to mount it, saying, "Keep your brooms steady, and on my whistle, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly, then touch back down."
On Madam Hooch's whistle, Neville began hovering far too high. "Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Longbottom!" He began flying off and her voice started to get more firm. "Come back down this instant!"
"I don't know how!"
He began flying in every which direction, harsh turns nearly bucking him off.
We lost sight of him as he flew over one of Hogwarts' towers, then he returned, somehow going even faster.
Hovering above one of the statues situated on Hogwarts' building, he fell off and his robes caught on the sword of a stature.
Then he fell again and it caught onto a torch.
Then he fell one more time and he plummeted to the ground.
Madam Hooch rushed over, ordering everyone out of her path. She noticed his swollen wrist and helped him to his feet. "Come now, Longbottom. Let's go to Madam Pomfrey. Everyone! Your feet will stay firmly planted on the ground. If I catch a single broom in the air, you'll be expelled before you can say Quidditch."
A shine of silver caught Draco's eye and he walked over to where Neville had fallen and picked up the red ball.
"What's that?"
"A Remembrall." Draco smirked.
Harry stomped over. "Give it here, Malfoy!"
I looked between the two, then back at the Remembrall. "Draco, just leave it."
"I don't know, Y/N. It's not my fault he nearly fell on his ass."
"It's not his either. Just leave it, we'll give it back later."
"What if I don't want to?"
Harry's eyes twitched and he tried to snatch it from Draco's grip, but he threw it up and hopped on his broom, playing with the small ball as if it were a Quaffle.
"Draco!"
"You'll have to come up and get it!"
Is it clear to anyone else that he didn't get enough attention as a kid? Please say I'm not the only one.
Harry, barely giving it a second thought (I think the second thought was literally just Hermione scolding him) and flew after Draco.
"What an idiot," Hermione said.
I didn't quite disagree.
I watched the two dart around in the air and intrigue filled me. Harry was a natural. It was as if he had been flying since his birth.
"Ogling, Griffin?" Michael Corner asked with a conniving grin.
"No. The famous ones aren't my type."
"Oh?" Anthony Goldstein's interest piqued. "I wasn't aware that you had a type. I always saw you as one that wouldn't like anyone."
"I don't. Not yet." I crossed my arms, watching the Remembrall fall into Harry's hands. "But Harry Potter? I'd have a lot of competition that I'm not willing to give attention to."
The two turned to the girls eying the flying boy, their eyes twinkling with attraction.
"I'd like an underdog that suddenly rose up with nothing in his hand but a dull sword. It makes them much more attractive."
Michael and Anthony watched me fantasize about this seemingly nonexistent boy and slowly stepped away as if I had admitted that I had the plague.
Suddenly, Professor McGonagall appeared.
"Harry Potter!" She speed-walked out into the field and my lips thinned. Sorry, but you're on your own, Potter.
Harry tossed the Remembrall to me and was led into the school and I elbowed Draco. "Why are you such a git?"
He shrugged and walked off.
At the very least, he didn't deny it.
•••
"Neville?" I poked my head into the hospital wing. "Are you alright?"
He looked away from his casted hand and nodded. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking."
"Not a problem." I sat down on a chair next to his bed. "Sucks that it's the dominant hand, huh?"
He nodded silently.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out his Remembrall. "Here. You dropped it."
"Oh! Thanks, my gran would've killed me." The moment he held it, the smoke inside turned red, and he took a moment to stare at it before sighing in defeat. "It's not like I'll remember what I forgot."
"...Your robes?"
He looked down, realizing that his robe wasn't on him, instead the shirt he wore underneath his robes covering himself. "Where did it...?"
I held up a rugged piece of black fabric. "It was pierced on the giant statue. I'll mend you another." I flashed a smile. "You don't need to get me a quill for this one."
He let out a dry chuckle. "Right."
Madam Pomfrey walked in and noticed me seated down. "Oh, Miss Griffin! What brings you here?" She scanned me with her eyes, trying to find something wrong with me for her to fix.
"Just visiting Neville."
"Well, dear, if you're going to do that every time he gets hurt, you may as well learn a bit." She waved her hand so I'd sit closer.
With a few waves of her wand, his hand and it moved a bit so it appeared straighter.
"Go on, Neville," Madam Pomfrey urged. "You should go have dinner."
I stood and Neville followed, his eyes now glued to the floor. My initial thought was that he was embarrassed, until I saw Draco walking down the hall with Crabbe and Goyle.
"Hanging out with the clumsy arse, Y/N?"
"Draco, you hang out with someone who has the same amount of brain cells as a marble has corners, you shut up."
We walked past and Neville turned to me. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Stand up to Draco... he's not as scary as Snape, but he's a close second."
I snickered behind my hand. "Oh, Neville, Draco's not scary. He's just a prick."
We entered the Great Hall and I saw Potter seated at the Gryffindor table. "Huh. I thought he'd be expelled by now." I followed Neville to the table and turned to Harry Potter. "What happened with Professor McGonagall?"
"Oh, she said that... I'd be the new seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
"Seeker? I didn't know they let first years join the team."
"They don't," Weasley informed me. "Harry's an exception because McGonagall saw him flying and thought he'd be great."
"Hm. Quite the main character you are, Potter."
•••
The next morning, I saw my owl deliver something for the first time. It was a newspaper with the headline for the Gringotts break-in circled by the red ink my father likes to keep, with his handwriting reading, "Solve???"
Penelope peered at the paper. "What's that for?"
"My dad and I play a game where we try and solve mysteries we see in the papers for more than a month. We make a conclusion and see what the true answer is when the results of the investigation is released."
"What an interesting game." Penelope sighed. "My dad and I would just play chess."
"Chess is still fun."
I held open the paper, reading the headline, then the report. Gringotts was one of the safest places in the entire wizarding world. The fact that it was broken into was already unimaginable, but, like most things, never impossible.
I picked up the quill Neville gave me and began underlining important information.
31 of July
Believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown
Nothing had been taken
Emptied the same day
"Interesting." I folded up the newspaper and grabbed a croissant from the table. "I need to look at something!"
"And off she goes again," Padma mumbled.
I went to the library and began searching the shelves for topics relating to Gringotts. By that point, the librarian, Madam Pince, had already acknowledged that I was never there for schoolwork, so she didn't bat an eye when I went to the section about the history of the wizarding world.
My fingers grazed over the spines of each book, the leather beneath my fingertips such a familiar and comforting feeling.
I found a book on Gringotts and pulled it out, opening to the first page.
Gringotts Wizarding Bank is the only wizarding bank in Great Britain, and is owned and operated by goblins. It was founded by a goblin named Gringott in 1474, and it is located in Diagon Alley in London, England.
In addition to storing money and valuables, one could also go there to exchange Muggle money for wizarding money, should a wizard only own that kind. The exchanged money is returned to circulation into the Muggle world.
I began flipping through the pages, trying to find something relating to its security.
Higher-security vaults are used by high ranking wizards to store valuables that may pose as a threat or compromise the wizarding world. Many wizards like Nicolas Flamel, the Black lineage, and Albus Dumbledore use Gringotts to store their-
"Wait." I blinked, staring at the first name. "Madam Pince!"
"What?" She stopped her cart and turned to me.
"Are there any books on Nicolas Flamel?"
"History of Wizards."
When I got to the section, I noticed that where a book on Nicolas Flamel would be located, the space was empty. "Madam Pince? Do you know who took out the book that was here?"
She looked at the empty space and clicked her tongue. "I'm not sure. Somehow, a student managed to take it out without signing it out."
"What was there before?"
"The Philosopher's Stone."
I stood, stunned to silence for a moment. I knew exactly where that book was, but suddenly, how it got there was the new mystery I wanted to solve.