Brooms, Remembralls, and Lingering Problems
Harry looked at his brother, who seemed to be sitting quietly… a little too quietly. And, above all, far too silent. Something that, of course, was strange in Percy. Meanwhile, Hermione Granger was talking about flying and Quidditch using a book she had found in the library; her voice sounded slightly agitated, almost trembling, which made it clear she was very nervous about the upcoming flying lesson.
Every time Hermione said the word "fly", "broom" or "sky", Harry noticed an involuntary twitch in Percy's hands. It was obvious. And of course, Harry instantly understood the reason behind his behavior.
The next class was flying with Professor Hooch; and considering his childhood, where Aunt Mor repeated countless times that if Percy ever flew, a lightning bolt would probably strike him… well, Percy had been traumatized. And taking into account the horrible luck his brother usually had at the worst possible moments, that fear wasn't irrational at all. Percy was terrified of flying; really, truly terrified.
An owl arrived just when Percy seemed to be suffering internally. To be honest, Harry found the scene a little funny. After all, what brother wouldn't enjoy watching his sibling suffer from something stupid?
The owl dropped a small box in front of Neville, who was just as nervous, or even worse than Hermione and Percy together. The thud of the package made him jump for a second, until he saw the sender and realized it was for him.
The package came from his grandmother, so he opened it with excitement; maybe also to distract himself from the nerves of the flying lesson. From the box he pulled out what looked like a glass ball full of white smoke.
"It's a Remembrall," Neville said happily. "Gran knows I tend to forget things; that's probably why she sent it," he added.
Everyone at the table looked at it with interest, especially Percy; after all, he was always the one who ended up reminding Neville not to forget his class materials.
"Look, you use it like this," Neville said as he squeezed the ball. "You hold it tightly and then it…" Before he could finish, the gray smoke inside began turning into an intense red. "... it turns red when you've forgotten something," he finished while staring at the sphere, now filled with scarlet smoke.
Percy let out a small laugh. "What did you forget this time? Probably not your head; you still have it on," he said with his usual humor.
Neville gave a forced laugh. "I don't remember what I forgot," he answered awkwardly, causing some chuckles around the table.
At that moment, a pale hand grabbed the glass ball. Draco Malfoy. For some reason no one could explain, he was walking right past the Gryffindor table… undoubtedly planning to bother Harry and Percy again. With his arrogant and stupid smile, he looked at the Remembrall mockingly.
Percy stood up instantly. He had been waiting for an excuse to give that annoying blond a good beating, since Draco always tried to mess with Harry and him.
Harry also stood, his expression clearly annoyed.
Unfortunately for the two of them, and very fortunately for Draco, Professor McGonagall —who was always alert for any student trouble— appeared walking quickly toward them. Her face, serious as always, was enough to freeze everyone in place.
"What is going on?" she asked in her severe tone, the kind that made even the bravest students tremble.
Neville looked at Percy, Harry and Draco. And in a quick action, worthy of someone who truly appreciated his friends, he spoke up to prevent them all from getting into trouble for defending him.
"Malfoy took my Remembrall, Professor McGonagall," Neville said quickly.
Draco frowned, annoyed, and dropped the Remembrall on the table with a hard thud, as if taking his anger out on the object. "I was just looking at it," he said immediately, with an expression trying to look innocent; like a child pretending he didn't know he'd done something wrong.
The professor didn't believe that excuse for even a second. After so many years teaching, she knew students like Malfoy perfectly well. But since technically he hadn't done anything "serious", she simply gave him a cold look and with a tilt of her head sent him back to his table with the rest of the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle followed him like the loyal henchmen they always seemed to be.
Percy narrowed his eyes as he watched Malfoy walk away. He really hated people like him; those who enjoyed picking on others, especially those who seemed weaker… because Malfoy would never dare do it in front of someone older or stronger.
McGonagall gave her students one last look and left.
Then came the moment to head to the grounds for flying practice.
Now Hermione and Neville were truly pale. Percy joined the group of nervous wrecks, which made the scene quite funny, especially because Percy was in total silent mode.
The rest of the Gryffindors walked out with them, meeting the Slytherins on the way; after all, the class would be shared.
The day was surprisingly perfect for a first flying lesson. There wasn't much wind; the sun shone above them, warm but not unbearable; the air was fresh enough to feel comfortable; and the grass swayed gently with each light breeze.
When they arrived at the field, the first thing they noticed were the twenty or so brooms lined up in two rows. Harry observed them carefully, remembering the stories the Weasley twins had told him about how mistreated they were, and how some vibrated if you flew too high or seemed crooked for no reason.
Seeing the state of those brooms, Harry had no doubt the twins had been telling the truth.
At that moment Professor Hooch arrived. She was a somewhat short woman with graying hair and eyes as yellow as a hawk's.
"What are you waiting for?" she said as soon as she reached them. "Stand next to a broom; quickly," she ordered.
Harry and Percy approached the nearest broom. Percy looked at it for a moment… and his nervous expression turned into pure panic. It was literally a stick with some straw tied in a knot. Nothing trustworthy. Nothing reassuring. Nothing that Percy wanted anywhere near his feet, much less flying.
He looked at Harry desperately, but Harry only gave him an amused smile.
"I'm very mad at Aunt Mor right now," Percy said, fully determined to blame her for absolutely everything he was feeling. His fear came directly from her. She always told him horrible things that could happen if he flew: that lightning would strike him; that the wind would carry him away; that the broom would break midair; that another lightning bolt might hit him in case the first wasn't enough.
For some reason, Aunt Mor repeated that lightning story every chance she got. And knowing Percy's luck, he didn't doubt for a second that something like that could truly happen to him. Maybe she only did it to amuse herself whenever Percy annoyed her too much; but sometimes it was impossible to tell if she was joking or dead serious.
"Extend your right hand over the broom," instructed Professor Hooch. "And say 'up'."
"Up."
"Up."
One by one, the students began repeating the word. Very few brooms responded. Harry was the first to succeed; the broom jumped into his hand as if it recognized him. Percy also managed it… but his broom shot toward him as if it wanted to smack him in the face. Luckily, his daily training had given him excellent reflexes; he moved his hand quickly and caught the broom before it could hit him.
If that thing smacked him, Percy was sure he would end up on the ground, bleeding, and the laughingstock of the entire class. That did not help his nerves about flying. Not at all.
Hermione Granger watched them, and seeing that the two of them had managed it, she put on a slightly competitive expression. She kept repeating "up, up, up" over and over, but her broom only spun around on the grass, frustrating her more every second.
When everyone finally had their brooms, the professor taught them how to mount them, how to hold on, and pointed out in detail the mistakes some were making. Among them was Draco Malfoy, who pulled an annoyed face when he saw Harry and Percy's satisfied looks.
And Draco always bragged about having flown all his childhood. He even claimed a helicopter once chased him. Sure. Draco being Draco.
"When I blow my whistle, you will all take a small lap and come right back. Are you ready?" said the professor as she began counting. "Three, two…"
But Neville, perhaps betrayed by nerves, jumped ahead of time. His broom shot into the sky like a comet.
Everyone's jaws dropped. Even Professor Hooch seemed frozen for a second as the broom continued ascending out of control.
Percy took a step forward, ready to run and save him; but he didn't even get the chance to move. Neville slipped off the broom and fell. It wasn't too high… though six meters weren't exactly harmless. The impact was loud when he hit the ground. Neville writhed, clutching his hand, clearly in pain.
Professor Hooch ran over, pale and horrified by what had happened.
"Broken wrist," she announced after checking his hand.
Percy, who was worried about Neville, looked at his own broom and immediately threw it on the ground; he didn't want to be near that thing for even half a second more.
"Do not move while I take this boy to the infirmary. That is clear. If I see a single broom in the air, you will be expelled faster than you can say 'Quidditch'," she ordered.
Neville limped slightly, his face covered in tears.
The moment the professor disappeared into the castle corridors, Draco Malfoy burst out laughing mockingly.
"Did you see how that dunce fell?" he said, while the other Slytherins laughed with him.
"Shut up, Malfoy," said Parvati Patil, outraged that he would mock a classmate like that.
"Are you in love with Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson said with a venomous tone. "I never thought you'd like chubby crybabies."
"Look at this!" Draco suddenly said, bending down to pick something from the grass. Neville's Remembrall. It had fallen during the crash.
"Give it back," said Percy, now truly furious, walking toward Draco. Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, crossing their arms and acting like they were invincible giants.
Then two sharp smacks echoed.
Smack.
Smack.
Crabbe and Goyle fell to the ground, holding their cheeks, which were now completely red. Percy still had his palm raised in the air. Yes. He had slapped each of them before continuing toward Draco, with a serious, irritated, and very determined expression. As if he were looking at the next idiot he was about to hit.
Harry let out a sigh and put a hand over his face.
Draco grew nervous as he saw Percy approaching. He hadn't seen how Percy knocked down Crabbe and Goyle, but the result was crystal clear. And although his pride didn't allow him to run away, he was starting to regret being alive.
He grabbed his broom, trying to keep his arrogant smile.
"Fine. I'll leave it somewhere that chubby boy can find it. Like in a tree. Or maybe… on top of the castle," he said as he mounted the broom.
At that moment, a rock flew with incredible precision and speed. It struck his wrist so hard that Draco almost fell before managing to rise a few centimeters.
He turned, shocked, and saw Percy holding a couple more stones in his hand.
"The next one goes to your head," Percy said, giving him one last chance to do the right thing.
Draco, furious and humiliated, and knowing he couldn't mount the broom properly with his wrist aching, turned and threw the Remembrall as hard as he could toward the castle, hoping it would shatter against the wall.
Percy's eyes widened in horror. He wasn't going to make it in time to save it. Not even with his magic. Harry couldn't either; his tome required contact and there was no time to pull it out. And he wasn't good enough with his wand yet.
But he didn't have to.
Like a flash. Like a gust of wind.
Harry appeared riding his broom, catching the Remembrall just before it hit the castle wall. He did it with such ease, control, and skill that it didn't seem like he was a beginner at all, though he came within centimeters of smashing himself against the stones.
The Gryffindor students stood stunned. And Percy smiled with enormous pride.
But unfortunately, it seemed Professor Hooch had sent Professor McGonagall to supervise while she took Neville away. And right at that moment, McGonagall came out of the corridor and saw absolutely everything.
"Harry Potter!" she yelled, with worry and anger mixed together. "Are you out of your mind? How could you do that? What would've happened if you broke your neck?" she added. "Follow me right now."
Draco, rubbing his wrist, grinned from ear to ear upon seeing Harry being taken away by the professor. Percy, meanwhile, was more annoyed than ever.
And then, seeing his brother being dragged toward a certain punishment… something exploded inside him.
Percy looked at Draco, and a dangerous idea appeared in his head.
"If Harry is going to be expelled, then I don't need to come to this school," he said, walking toward the blond with an expression that made Draco go pale instantly.