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A Flight To Remember
Ron ambled casually down in the direction of their first flying lesson with his cloak trailing behind him, Harry at his side. Despite the dissatisfaction of having to attend the initial lesson with the Slytherins, he was actually looking forward to it. If you ruled out the nerves of having to attempt to perform in front of Malfoy- it had been rumoured he had had plenty of practice previous. Fortunately for Ron’s confidence, he had played a few games of Quidditch with his elder brothers. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Better than nothing.
As the lesson commenced, Ron felt his heart beat faster. He could feel the panic rise from the pits of his stomach, making him feel queasy. He prayed not to mess up before the eyes of Malfoy- or Crabbe and Goyle for that matter.
His uneasiness was disregarded as he watched in horror as Neville let his nerves get the better of him. Losing control of his broom, he ascended rapidly, gaining height by the second. Madam Hooch blew feverishly on her whistle to try gain control of the situation, but it was a wasted effort. Neville crashed to the ground with a sickening thud. Concern flashed through Ron as he surveyed the situation helplessly. Madam Hooch hurriedly glanced him over, announcing a broken wrist and turning to usher him to the hospital wing. She departed on a lingering threat: anyone else caught flying would be expelled faster than they could say ‘Quidditch’.
Checking his watch, Ron realised the lesson had only been going on for 10 minutes- and already an accident. Well, it was Hogwarts.
His attention focused back onto Malfoy as the boy swaggered, retrieving something glistening, hidden in the grass. It was Neville’s rememberall which had accompanied his owl at breakfast earlier that day. ‘Give it here Malfoy!’, Harry demanded. Ron briefly glanced at his friend- taken aback by the random outburst- then back to Malfoy to survey his reaction. He seemed to be smirking, enjoying himself. Usual, the git, he thought, irritated.
Malfoy swung his leg over his broom and kicked off smoothly considering they were mere first years. Maybe he hadn’t just been boasting. Climbing higher, he sneered, ‘How about I leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find it, eh Potter? Like in this tree.’ Ron faced his friend hesitating by his side, and to his surprise he was also mounting his broom. He’s never flown before!
A girl known as Hermione protested, but it went unheard of to his friend’s ears. Harry seemed a natural, Ron observed in awe. Both were fighting in the air, too high to be heard, but their faces could still be seen. He tried reading their expressions, trying to figure out what was being said. He couldn’t help but grin at his friend: anything to see Malfoy be defeated. Or shown up.
Something in the air seemed to change; it was an intangible change, but he could see something in Malfoy’s expression. He wished he could pick up what was being said, but it wasn’t long to witness what occurred next. Malfoy twisted and threw the tiny ball ahead of him with a sudden, fluent movement. It took the crowd by surprise as they watched, entranced by the scene above them: Slytherin taking the side of Malfoy, Gryffindor rooting for Harry. Malfoy was descending but no-one took notice. They were engrossed in watching Harry.
He was gathering a vast amount of speed for a first-time-flier. The adrenaline was evident to see on Harry’s face though. Heart in mouth, Ron gazed on willing Harry to catch it. His hand was outstretched, broom dangerously nearing the ground.
In the next second the miniscule ball was clasped in Harry’s hands.
Hitting the ground with a thud, the Gryffindor’s cheered, advancing to Harry to congratulate him. The ball in his grip was held high in the air, catching the light from the sun, making it shimmer. A grin danced across Ron’s face, laughing as he went to join his friend, gleeful. It felt good to have watched Harry better Malfoy. That same smile was washed off in mere seconds however as the shrill voice of Professor McGonagall was heard from behind them. His heart sank. He hadn’t seen this coming.
Ron watched Harry’s retreating back dejected as the celebration was cut short. Observing Malfoy’s sly smirk in his direction, Ron’s gaze fell to the ground to the scene of two beetles scurrying across the grass. All joyful feelings had been rapidly replaced with a sinister dread. The consequences of that selfless act however were unlike anyone could have hoped for.
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The Game - Round Three - Pure Nerve and Outstanding Courage, Mission and Submissions
Department_of_Mysteries The Game - Round Three - Pure Nerve and Outstanding Courage Jul 2 2006, 12:59 PM
Jul 2 2006, 12:59 PM
