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Ascension Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2022-01-07 10:44:25 +0000 UTC3 November 1991
“Quidditch tryouts to be held today at 5 PM at the Quidditch Pitch,” Tracey read aloud from the notice board in the common room. “Second to Seventh years can come before Captain Graham Montague for securing the position of Chaser, Keeper and Seeker.”
“Shame that first years aren’t allowed on the teams,” Daphne commented, looking at Harry. “You would have had a great chance of making it to the team Harry.”
“I wasn’t that great,” he mumbled. “Malfoy and Blaise flew better than me.”
“Nonsense,” she scoffed in return. “That was your first time handling a broom, and you still were able to fly as good as them both, which considering their years of experience speaks volumes of your skills.”
“Now you wait here, while we go and see what has gotten your sister holed up in the dorms.”
With that Tracey and Daphne both moved towards the girls’ dormitories, leaving Harry to think about Daphne's words, and the first flying lesson they had attended in the fall of September.
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Standing in a line side-by-side, the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors were facing each other on the grounds nearby the Forbidden Forest with the brooms provided by the school at their side. Though as his gaze turned towards the slightly cracked shaft and the clearly damaged bristles, Harry didn’t really feel all that excited anymore about going up in the air.
“I have been flying since I was young enough to crawl,” came the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy, making his eyes turn towards the floating boy. “Father always said I am a great flyer. I even flew circles around those muggle things they call Hellcotters.”
Pansy gasped and ‘ahhed’ at him at that, and Millicent was looking at the boy with admiration, Draco soaking up the praise and puffing out his chest ike a peacock.
“I wager he has never even seen a ‘Hellcotter as he put it”, Blaise muttered to himself. “Escaped a Helicopter my foot!”
Harry snorted at that and Tracey, who was standing beside him let out a giggle, making Zabini turn towards them. “Well he speaks,” he mockingly gasped, “would you look at that! I was thinking you had turned mute over the weeks, Potter.”
“People tend to do that after a warm welcome.”
“Oh please,” Zabini scoffed, “It isn’t my fault that you are a Potter and Draco is a boy who likes to prove his superiority every five minutes.” As if to commemorate his point, Draco once again started recounting a story about how he had once outflied a griffin itself. Nodding in the blonde’s direction, He said “Case in point, and why are even so hung up on that, based on the fact that you were absolutely fine the next morning, either Crabbe and Goyle are weaker than they look, or you had some salves and potions with you.”
“Wait what?!” Tracey asked as she turned him around. “Why wou-”
“Okay Class, form up and stand in a line!” a sharp voice spoke from their right, and as one everyone turned towards it, finding Madam Hooch, their flying instructor walking towards them. She was different from other witches, Harry realised as he took in her chrome yellow eyes and the spiky, white and black hair she sported. Not the white and grey that came with age, but something which resembled a pattern of sorts. It was the slight markings near her lips and neck that finally made him remember the paragraph on Animaguses he had read last week. Madam Hooch was possibly an animagus like Professor McGonagall was, and if he had to guess, she was an avian of some kind.
Arriving at the other end of the two lines, she stared at them for a moment before she flicked her wand, and a broom came racing out of one of the windows towards her. It came to stop right at her feet, the shaft and bristles gleaming in the sunlight as the letters ‘Nimbus 1000’ glittered upon it.
“My name is Rolanda Hooch” she began, her yellow irises staring out at each of them unblinkingly—further confirming his thoughts on her being an animagus. “I am going to be your flying instructor and the referee of the Quidditch matches for the next seven years. You will have a Flying Class every two weeks from now on, and from next year they will happen every three days. There will not be an exam for this class, but if you are thinking of joining the House Quidditch team or even playing professionally, then you will not fly a single inch out of line. Am I understood?”
“Yes Professor!” all of them chorused.
She shook her head at them with a wry smile, “I don’t hold the title of a Professor. Just like Pomphrey, you may call me Instructor Hooch or Madam Hooch. Now, before we get started on actual flying, I shall be telling you about the basics of flying on a broom and yes, everyone shall listen to these instructions and follow them to the letter. if I see even a single move or swerve attempted before I allow it, then the student will be banned from flying for three years before he or she can say Quidditch!”
After letting the declaration sink in for a moment, Madam Hooch nodded to herself and crossed her arms over her chest. “All right now, stick your hands out over your brooms, and with all the concentration and willpower you have, say UP!”
The next second, cries and shouts of ‘UP’ filled the air as everyone followed her command. His broom immediately shot up in his hand after a single firm command from him, and around him his sister, Draco, Blaise, Neville, Patil, and Thomas were also able to accomplish the same.
He gripped the worn-down shaft tightly and turned his eyes towards Persephone, a grin lighting up on both of their faces as excitement shot through them.In the following few minutes, Madam Hooch had to instruct and help the remaining students who couldn’t get the brooms to shoot up in their hands easily. Surprisingly, Granger’s broom didn’t shoot up into her at once, and neither did it do so even after half-a-dozen tries. Given that all her housemates except for Neville and Thomas were giving her smug looks, this hadn’t gone unnoticed by them either.
“Figures,” Weasley said to Finnegan. “One thing that is not in the books and she fails at it.”
‘Hurtful, but true enough I suppose’ Harry thought as his eyes turned to Granger, who appeared to have heard Weasley’s comment. For a second Harry thought the girl would cry, but the next second she shouted “UP”, and surprisingly her broom flew up into her hands with enough speed that her whole body shook with the force.
After getting Crabbe to make his broom fly up, Madam Hooch went back to her previous position. “Now that you have gotten the brooms to fly up in your hands, get on them and keep absolutely still,” She said sternly, her voice brokering no argument, “and don’t even think about leaving the ground until I tell you otherwise!”
Though some like Malfoy, Weasley, Blaise and even Longbottom did grumble about knowing how to fly, one glae from the instructor was enough to quell their protests. She walked between each of them, scrutinizing their stances and grips and correcting them where she found faults. Draco once again showed his charms, as he challenged her correction by stating that he had been flying all his life by gripping the broom the way he was holding it, only for Madam Hooch to shut him up by deducting five points from Slytherin and a rebuttal that he must have been doing it wrong then.
“Move your hands a little higher Mr. Potter,” she said as she finally came to him, and moved his hands to the desired position. “When flying at high speeds, you will want that space to press yourself against the shaft to avoid bludgers and make tight turns and rolls.”
“Yes Madam Hooch” he nodded, memorising the placement of his hands with respect to the rest of his body while she moved on to Tracey. After checking up on everyone, she summoned her broom to ehr hand and assumed the same position as them.
“Now, I want you all to rest your weight on your toes,” she said and raised her heels off the ground such that only the front half of her feet remained in contact with the surface. “Hold the shaft tightly, but evenly. You don’t want to put more force on one side than the other, that will cause it to buck and swerve in accordance with your grip.”
Appearing satisfied with their positions, she nodded and continued, “Now lightly, and I mean lightly, push off with your legs only, and force the broom to be parallel to the ground.”
Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed against the ground and immediately felt his feet leave the grass beneath his soles. He rose up to the height of one feet only, but the exhilaration he felt was something he had rarely felt before. His ascent was completely stable, and not once did he feel that the broom was even starting to jerk or tremble.
Several others also managed to rise up smoothly, and those who were jerking or swerving this way and that, were helped by Madam Hooch as she froze their movements with a wave of her wand, and then went about helping each of them stabilise their flight.
“No, No, Ms. Patil,” she chided the Gryffindor. “You put that much force on the shaft, and it will be bucking as hard as a violent horse to oppose you. When you are high in the air, that is the thing you don’t want at all costs.”
“And Mr. Finngan,” she then turned towards the accident-prone boy, “Keep your hands a little more ahead of yourself, you are once again back to your previous position. Look at Mr. Thomas and Mr. Longbottom, how their arms are parallel to each other. That way your hands won’t shift in jerks and such.”
A few minutes and several corrections later, Madam Hooch flew above the rest of them and stopped at the height of about ten feet from the ground. “Now, all of you rise up to my position, and this time try to rise faster. Press against the underside of the broom with your fingers evenly, but don’t lean back. Keep your spine straight and focus on keeping your ascent within your control.”
All of them rose upwards slowly, and this time he could see some more nervous faces than the last time. His sister, though, was smiling from ear to ear as she looked at the increasing distance between her and the earth, and Harry was sure that his own face sported quite a similar smile. Being in the air, even if it was without any movement, was giving him a rush quite unlike anything he had ever experienced.
When they finally reached level with Madam Hooch, she circled around them once, and appearing satisfied, flew to the centre of the circle they had unknowingly formed.
“Good, You lot are certainly better than the one last year,” she praised, an approving smile on her face. “Now that you know how to rise, we are going to practice movement. For that, press on the shaft in the direction you want to go, force it to turn towards it and lean a little down. The more you lean, the less resistance from air, and the faster you go. But don’t push too hard, you aren’t yet accustomed to the way gravity will pull you if you somehow flip or do something equally…dangerous.”
Following her instructions, everyone started to move around in the air, experimenting with the amount of force exerted on the broom and how much they could comfortably lean forwards. Predictably, Draco and Blaise both immediately started to fly around gracefully with Neville following them soon after. Harry and Persephone too soon got a hang of the thing, and slowly started to increase their speed as they flew in circles.
“Look at her frowning at her broom,” came Weasley’s voice once again, the boy not even hiding the mockery in his words. “Maybe we should find her a book too, At least she would then be Acceptable instead of the Troll-like movements she is making.”
Intrigued by his words, Harry turned towards Granger and found her glaring at Weasley. Her eyes were definitely glistening now, but Weasley was undeniably right. Granger was gripping the broom so hard that he could see the whiteness in her fingers, and every so often, her broom would tremble slightly, as if a wild horse raring to let loose.
“Mr. Weasley!” Madam Hooch barked as she came to the ginger-haired boy. “Ten Points from Gryffindor for ridiculing a fellow student, and Ms. Granger is doing per-”
She was cut off from her words as a shriek came from behind her, and they looked at the source, only to find a screaming Lavender Brown falling to the ground, her broom still in her hands. Madam Hooch immediately shot towards her in a blur of movement, and before anyone even had the time to realise, Lavender was held up in her arms and she was lowering her broom to the ground.
She murmured something too low for him to hear and sighed heavily, before she looked up at them and flicked her wand once, making the ground below them shine a bright blue.
“Ms. Brown has fallen unconscious,” she informed, conjuring a stretcher for the girl to lay on, “I am taking her to the infirmary and while I am gone, practice those movements and don’t fly too fast. The ground is charmed to be soft and cushioning, so it won’t hurt you at all if you fall, but don’t be reckless because of it.”
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Present time:
After that, Madam Hooch had taken the unconscious girl to the infirmary while they had all started to fly above the charmed piece of land. DThose who had handled brooms before, namely Draco, Blaise and Neville, started to fly around, showing off moves and smoothness that left everyone in awe. Grudgingly, Harry had admitted that for all of his obnoxiousness, Draco was truly a good flyer, and certainly better than either Zabini or Longbottom.
However, as time had progressed, so had his and Persephone’s confidence. Within minutes they were flying as fast and as smoothly as the other three. She had even managed a barrel roll or two before the bells for the period’s ending had rung and they had all dismounted from their brooms. Filch had collected them at the entrance to the castle, the caretaker giving them all a stink eye as he glared at them with his pale eyes and the furious, rat-like grimace he always wore on his face.
After that day, they had attended one more flying class, where Madam Hooch taught them high speed flying and how to turn during it. He had done it on his first try, and had scored Slytherin en points for it. That day, another information had come to light when Daphne had commented upon his and Persephone’s quick pickup in Flying. Their father James Potter had amongst the best Quidditch Players Hogwarts had ever had, and evidently, they had inherited his talent.
His thoughts were derailed as a giggling Tracey, a stone-faced Daphne and a thoroughly embarrassed Persephone came down the stairs. Bemused, Harry walked towards them, but somehow that made Persephone turn even more red as she ducked her head and hurried past him. A frown on his face, Harry watched her a moment before he turned towards the two girls with a question on his lips, but before he could ask it, Daphne answered, “She is not hurt, just some...never mind. She is fine, that is all you need to know.”
Confusedly nodding at her statement, Harry followed after the two girls as they started towards the Great Hall. They caught up with his sister, but she still didn’t raise her eyes towards him, a bright red flush covering her face and neck, leaving him more bewildered by the minute.
Deciding to talk about whatever was the problem with her later in the day, Harry shook his head and started thinking about how to contact Arcturus for telling him about their Winter Vacation predicament. While they could live in a castle during the duration of the holidays, the issue of informing Lord Black about it still remained.
‘Maybe Daphne will let me use Melinoe for it?’ Harry wondered, thinking of the black and grey owl Daphne had as he walked into the Great hall. Pretty soon, he was iling up toast and some fruit on his plate as they started to eat their breakfast, idle chatter passing between them.
From the sounds he could discern, the majority of the Slytherin table was talking about the tryouts that were going to happen later in the evening. Ahead on the table Charlotte was talking with Montague, no doubt discussing the same. Midway into the breakfast, his attention strayed towards Malfoy as the boy got up from the table and walked to the Gryffindor one, Crabbe and Goyle trailing after him with all of their bags in the latter’s hands.
Turning his attention back towards his food, Harry resumed eating the breakfast as he mentally went over the assignment Professor Quirell had given them two days ago. By the time the holidays ended, all three of them were to be capable of producing a full fledged Protego Shield, capable of withstanding at least three stunners before it fell.
He was about to take a bite of his toast, when he paused and frowned as the hairs over his neck and arm stood up straight Harry rubbed his forearm through the robe, and turned round instinctively in the direction of the Gryffindor table, where he found an utterly enraged and furious Neville Longbottom glaring at Malfoy. He couldn't see the blonde’s face, but Harry wagered it must have been worth seeing, considering Neville looked ready to tear him apart and eat the remains.
He said something to Draco as he picked up his bag, and then with a final murderous look at the ponce, moved out of the Great Hall with Weasley hurrying after him. Draco stood there for a second, before with a word at his two underlings he too walked out.
As he finally took the bite he had been meaning to take, Harry couldn’t help but wonder the reason behind his sudden sensing of Longbottom’s state. Lost in his thoughts, he never noticed the glances sent his way by the Headmaster and Professor Snape for the rest of the time he was in the Hall.
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“Where are you both going?”
‘Of course,’ Neville groaned internally as he turned around, finding a thoroughly annoyed looking Hermione Granger standing in front of him. ‘How could I forget the fact that she likes to study late into the night instead of chatting or resting.’
“What is it to you?” he asked politely, not wanting to piss the witch off and make her go off on a rant.
“Well, you will get caught,” she spoke slowly—a first, Neville was sure—” and then you will make us lose points, points which I have worked very hard for.”
“This is more important than points, Hermione,” Ron piped up with utmost seriousness “Neville’s honor is at stake here.”
“Neville’s honor won’t save you from detention and shame in the house for losing several points at once.”
“Yes, well…” Ron floundered for a moment before a smirk came over his face and he pointed at her. “We can’t go back to the common room now. The Fat Lady is gone from that portrait.”
Hermione paled greatly upon his words and turned around, as Neville looked behind her, and found the entrance to the common room shut with the guardian nowhere to be found.
‘Merlin balls! Just what I needed.’
“Oh my God!” she gasped. “What will I do-”
“Come on,” Neville interjected as he caught a distant sound of a cat meowing, cutting of her rambling before Filch or Mrs. Norris caught wind of it. “No point in waiting here, Lets go to the trophy room and wait for Filch to pass us by there, by that time she will hopefully be back in her place.”
“Why are we going there instead of hiding in any of these rooms?” Hermione asked as they started to run towards the Trophy Room, which was thankfully only two corridors away from them.
“Because according to the Weasley twins, Filch and Mrs. Norris both aren’t allowed inside for some reason,” Neville responded as they came upon the entrance to the room, and he opened the doors. “Although I think it is just because both of them are always so filthy.”
“As filthy as you are Longbottom,” came the voice of Draco Malfoy as he sneered at them, Crabbe and Goyle standing behind him. “Filch is a squib who is allowed into this hallowed institution and he sleeps with that monster he calls a cat. You walk around with mudbloods and blood-traitors hanging off your arms, not much difference if you ask me.”
Ron and Hermione both gasped at his words, the latter understanding the meaning of the slur used against her quite easily. Neville on the other hand, glared at the Malfoy heir and flicked his wrist, his Holly-and-Phoenix feather wand coming to rest within his fingers, the comforting warmth from fueling his ire and anger towards the blonde.
“Take out you wand Malfoy,” he snarled. “We have a duel to fight after all.”
