Chapter - 76 : The Legacy of Hogwarts part - 3

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Harry was occasionally struck by how odd it was to actually be on friendly terms with the Malfoy heir. He'd come to look on the boy as family of a sort, and certainly as a more welcome cousin than Dudley had ever been, but he still half-expected the blond to sneer and flash a 'Potter Stinks' badge at him. The lack of antagonism was very welcome, however. As Hooch corrected Draco's grip, Harry surprised himself by glaring at Ron when the red haired boy sniggered loudly. Clearly all those lectures on the importance of blood-ties and familial loyalty Arcturus Black had forced Harry to sit through had had some effect.

"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. Understood?"

The first years all nodded, some more enthusiastically than others. Harry could see Hermione muttering flying tips to herself under her breath and Neville looked absolutely petrified. Harry had tried to reassure them both earlier, but Hermione was still rather frosty towards him and obviously didn't want to accept his help. Neville was more grateful, but also even more scared than he had been in Harry's old world. Harry counted it a success that the plump boy had even managed to get his broom off the ground.

"On my whistle — three — two —"

Despite all of Harry's encouragement, Neville once again pushed off too soon and went shooting into the air. The other students all gasped and pointed up at Neville, who clung desperately onto the handle as the broom swayed and bucked twenty feet up over their heads. This time, though, Harry drew his birch wand and cast a cushioning spell as the boy fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Harry quickly tucked his wand back into his robes, not wanting anyone to notice he'd cast any magic. Hooch - who had been totally unhelpful throughout Neville's uncontrolled flight - hurried forwards and helped the Gryffindor up off the ground.

"Hmm, no broken bones," she said as she checked him over. "You'd best go see Madame Pomfrey though, just to be on the safe side."

"Y-yes, Madam Hooch," Neville mumbled and stumbled off in the direction of the castle, clearly only too glad to escape the rest of the lesson.

"Oi! Longbottom!" Draco bent down and picked up Neville's Remembrall from where it was lying on the grass.

Neville turned to look at him warily. "What do you w-want?"

"Here, catch!" Draco tossed him the ball, which Neville caught with fumbling hands and a bemused expression.

"Um, thanks," Neville said.

As the timid boy continued on his way to the hospital wing, Harry glanced over to Draco and raised an eyebrow.

Draco shrugged slightly. "I've decided you might be right that Longbottom could be useful in future. He is a pureblood after all."

"Enough chit-chat!" Madam Hooch trained her yellow eyes on the remaining first years. "Everyone mount their brooms!"

Many of the students were clearly reluctant to comply after watching what had happened to Neville, but the more able flyers - Harry, Draco and Ron - were eager to get to the actual flying part of the lesson. Harry had never experienced a whole class with Madam Hooch and was so quite looking forward to seeing how she'd instruct them. His interest quickly waned, however, when all she let them practice were take offs and landings, things Harry knew perfectly well how to do.

Harry had been good enough to get onto the Quidditch team at the age of eleven, but now when he was theoretically twenty-one years old he wasn't allowed to fly higher than five feet above the ground. Harry found it incredibly frustrating and beside him Draco wasn't looking too happy either.

"I can't believe we have to put up with this," Draco hissed. "We've known how to fly for years, and on much better brooms than these. With the fees Hogwarts charges one would think the school could afford new brooms. I'm going to write my father about it - it's a disgrace!"

Harry idly watched Hooch coach Hermione on how to lean forwards so as not to slide off the back of her broomstick. He longed to be allowed to fly properly, but Hooch had been stern in her warnings and Harry knew he'd only get a detention if he broke the rules - Snape certainly wouldn't appoint him as Seeker.

As Harry surveyed the rest of the class he saw that Ron had also become fed-up with the lesson and was now describing his near-collision with a muggle hang-glider to Seamus Finnigan. The Irish boy was too busy clinging onto his broomstick to listen to Ron's harrowing tale, but the redhead apparently didn't notice or else didn't care.

"So I had to do a double-barrel roll, right, but then a gust of wind blew the muggle towards me and I just knew -"

"Honestly, Weasley, no one cares about your pathetic escapades," Draco drawled.

Seamus looked rather grateful for the interruption, but Ron scowled at the blond. "Shut up, Malfoy! Go back to learning how to hold a broomstick and leave the rest of us alone!"

Draco sneered. "I don't need to practice anything, you on the other hand probably can't even fly in a straight line."

"I can so!"

"Really? Then why did you almost crash into a muggle? That would never have happened to a talented flyer."

"Oh like you're so great! I doubt you'd even be able to get your big head off the ground!"

Harry sighed as the two boys continued to squabble. He vividly remembered taking part in similar arguments when he'd been eleven the first time round, but it all appeared incredibly juvenile to him now.

"Look, will you two just shut it?" Harry said at last. "I really don't want to attract Hooch's attention, she'll make us practise taking off again - and in any case arguing isn't going to solve anything."

"You're right, Orion," Draco said, surprising Harry. Then he turned to Ron. "How about it, Weasley, fancy a race to prove who's the better flyer? Or are you too afraid you'll humiliate yourself as soon as you're up in the air…"

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