Chapter 6
It was another morning in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Cassidy Sweet were eating breakfast with their Gryffindor classmates.
Well, most of them were. Seamus Finnigan was struggling to turn water into rum, while Cassidy was busy doodling Professor Snape's face on a piece of parchment, devil horns sprouting from his head. Her long, kinky hair was braided into two pigtails, red bows at the ends, a look she'd perfected with the help of Angelina Johnson.
Ron leaned over, trying to sneak a peek at her drawing. "Blimey, is that supposed to be Snape?" he whispered, crumbs falling from his toast.
Cassidy smirked, her eyes still focused on the sketch. "Obviously. Do you think he'd look better with fangs or a pitchfork?"
"Both," Ron answered without missing a beat.
Hermione, who had been reading Hogwarts: A History, glanced up over her book, unimpressed. "You two are going to get into so much trouble if someone sees that."
Cassidy raised her eyebrows in mock innocence. "It's art, Hermione. A public service, really."
Harry stifled a laugh, glancing at Seamus, whose water was still swirling wildly in his cup. "Maybe keep it hidden, though," Harry said. "Snape's got a sixth sense for mischief."
Cassidy rolled her eyes. "As if he doesn't think we're up to something every second of the day." She held her drawing up for the table to admire. "So, what do we think?"
Ron snorted so loudly, the nearby second years shot him confused looks. "That's brilliant! Seamus really should be careful." His eyes flickered toward Seamus, who was still muttering incantations. "I tried that once, didn't end well."
Hermione groaned, but even she couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. "You lot are hopeless."
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the hall, making Cassidy and Hermione jump. The entire table burst into laughter. Seamus's cup had exploded, his hair singed and his face covered in soot.
Cassidy sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, fiddlesticks." Her voice was full of exaggerated sympathy.
"Mail's here!" Ron exclaimed, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Owls of all shapes and sizes swooped into the Great Hall, dropping packages, letters, and newspapers. Cassidy's silver owl, Moony, fluttered over to her, dropping a letter and a small package onto her plate.
"No way," she muttered, holding her letter up with a grin. She couldn't wait to see what her parents had written. She'd open the box later.
Ron, distracted by his own post, started opening his letter.
Harry leaned over, glancing at Ron's paper. "Can I borrow this?" He asked.
"Yeah." Ron replied, looking through his bundle of letters. The other students observed each other's packages, curious about what their friends had gotten. Hermione was busy explaining what all of them were, especially Neville Longbottom's new Remembrall.
Cassidy was about to open her letter when she heard Harry talking about the newspaper.
"Hey Ron.... Somebody broke into Gringotts," Harry said, nudging Ron. Cassidy, feeling nosy, leaned over to hear what they were talking about. Harry read out the report, which stated that a vault had been broken into, and it was believed to be the work of Dark Wizards. The vault had been emptied the same day, and nothing had been stolen.
Cassidy thought she imagined it, but she felt her necklace grow a bit warm.
"That's odd," Harry continued, looking at the group, who looked back at him with suspicion and curiosity on their faces.
"That's the vault Hagrid and I went to."
The sun shone brightly into Cassidy Sweet's eyes, making her squint as she stood in front of an old, splintered broomstick. The thing looked like it had seen better days—or decades.
It was their first flying lesson. Cassidy had barely finished her toast when the bell sent them all hurrying outside. She hadn't even had a chance to read her parents' letter or open the package they'd sent.
A brisk middle-aged witch with short, spiky hair strode toward the group of students. Her piercing yellow eyes darted between them like a hawk's. Cassidy thought they were oddly beautiful.
"Good afternoon, class!" the witch barked, stopping in the middle of the two lines.
"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch!" they chorused. Ron, standing next to Cassidy, kept his eyes firmly on the ground. Cassidy frowned, but said nothing.
"Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for?" Madam Hooch demanded, her sharp gaze making even the confident students shuffle nervously.
"Everyone step up to the left side of your broom. Come on now, hurry up!"
Cassidy obeyed, casting a glance at Hermione, who was already frowning in concentration. "Stick your right hand over the broom and say 'up.'
"Up!" Harry's broom flew immediately into his hand. Hermione gasped, her brows furrowing in determination as her own broom stubbornly stayed put. Draco managed it on his second try, smirking as if he'd won some kind of contest.
"Up!" Ron barked at his broom, his ears turning red when it hit him in the forehead. Harry started to laugh.
"Shut up, Harry," Ron mumbled, holding his forehead.
"You alright, Ron?" Cassidy asked him distractedly.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." He replied. Cassidy went back to yelling at her broom.
"Up, you silly broom!" Cassidy said impatiently. The broom jumped—straight into her nose.
"OW!" She staggered back, clutching her nose. Nearby, Draco snorted, and Ron finally looked at Cassidy, alarmed.
He immediately turned to her, his exasperation fading into concern. "Are you alright?" he asked, looking torn between wanting to laugh and genuinely worrying.
Cassidy sniffed and gave him a lopsided grin. "Perfectly fine, thanks. Just bonding with my broom in the most painful way possible."
Ron chuckled, finally meeting her gaze, though his ears were noticeably pinker.
Madam Hooch's sharp whistle cut through the chatter. "Settle down, everyone! If your broom hasn't come up yet, don't shout at it like you're scolding a pet. Be firm, but calm. Try again."
Cassidy wiped her nose, straightened up, and held out her hand. "Up," she commanded again, this time with more determination. The broom wobbled uncertainly before rising into her palm.
"Finally!" she breathed, holding it like it was a reluctant ally.
Next to her, Ron gave his own broom another attempt. "Up!" To his visible relief, it soared into his hand, albeit with a bit of a wobble. He turned to Cassidy with a grin. "Not bad, huh?"
Cassidy smirked, tilting her head. "Could be worse. At least neither of us is still broom-less." She shot a pitying glance at Neville, who was still flailing at his broom like it was a stubborn goat.
As Madam Hooch gave more instructions, Cassidy stole a glance at Ron. His broom was finally in hand, and his shoulders relaxed as he focused on their professor. Somehow, she found it... endearing.
"Now, once you've got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it. Grip it tight, you don't want to be sliding off the end. When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, hover for a moment, then lead forward slightly and touch back down." Madam Hooch instructed.
"I'm not gonna remember any of that," Cassidy muttered, earning a snort from Harry.
"On my whistle—three... two..."
The shrill sound pierced the air, and the students kicked off. Cassidy managed a wobbling hover before touching back down, her heart pounding. A strangled yelp pulled her attention skyward. It was Neville.
"Mr Longbottom. M-Mr Longbottom!" Their professor called after Neville helplessly, as he floated higher and higher.
"Neville, jump off!" Cassidy yelled rather stupidly, scared for her friend.
"Neville!" Harry yelled. But it was no use. He soared higher, calling for help.
"Come back down this instant!" Madam Hooch yelled.
The class watched helplessly as Neville was thrown around like a rag doll by his broom, and Cassidy slowly covered her mouth, shaking her head.
Soaring downwards and towards the class, everyone jumped out of the way as he flew past them and Madam Hooch tried to stop Neville with her wand.
He flew up once again, but was finally saved by the spear of a statue on top of one of the towers, which caught on his cloak and caused him to hang there helplessly.
"Oh, Neville." Cassidy sighed.
Then, his cloak started to tear.
"He's done for." Ron whispered, earning a shove from Cassidy.
Then he fell again, his cloak catching onto another spike; but then it tore, and he fell, finally, into a crumpled heap on the floor.
"Everyone out of the way!" Madam Hooch exclaimed, running towards Neville's body.
"Is he alright? Hermione whispered.
"I hope he's not dead." Cassidy whispered back.
"Don't be daft, Cass, he's not dead." Harry replied, uncertainty in his voice.
Madam Hooch knelt beside the boy and held him as he whimpered in pain, cooing to him like he was her son.
"It's a broken wrist, poor boy." She consoled him. Raising him up, Madam Hooch started to guide Neville Longbottom away.
"Everyone is to keep their feet firmly on the ground as I take Mr Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understood?! If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say Quidditch."
Cassidy caught Neville's eye as Madam Hooch took him away, and gave him an encouraging smile. That smile faded quickly when Malfoy started talking.
"Did you see his face? Maybe if the fat muppet would give this a squeeze," Malfoy held Neville's Remembrall, "He'd remember not to fall on his fat arse."
He held up Neville's Remembrall, tossing it carelessly in the air. The Slytherins laughed.
Cassidy's blood boiled. She stepped forward and, before she could think better of it, kicked Malfoy hard in the shin.
"Give it back, you git!" she snapped.
Malfoy yelped, glaring at her. "You've got some nerve, Sweet." He shoved her backward, and she hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of her lungs, but she didn't care.
"Oi, leave her alone!" Ron barked, stepping forward.
"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry said coolly.
The class fell silent. Malfoy turned to Harry, sneering. "No. I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find... how about up a roof?"
Before Cassidy could lunge at him again, Malfoy smirked, hopping onto his broom with ease and flying upwards, looking back down at the class. "What's the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?" he sneered, the Remembrall spinning in his hand.
Harry's jaw tightened as he grabbed his broom, ready to take off after him. Hermione darted in front of him, her eyes wide. "Harry, no! You heard what Madam Hooch said. Besides, you don't even know how to—"
"Get his blonde arse, Harry!" Cassidy yelled, still brushing dirt off her robes as Ron helped her stand.
With one last glance at Cassidy, Harry kicked off the ground, shooting into the air. Hermione groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "What. An. Idiot."
Cassidy barely registered Hermione's grumbling as she watched the chase above. Malfoy was soaring higher, the Remembrall glinting in his hand. "Come on, Harry!" she shouted, leaning forward like that would somehow help him fly faster.
Malfoy's laughter echoed as he tossed the Remembrall high into the air, aiming it toward a castle window. "Catch it if you can!" he called, but Harry was already streaking forward like a bolt of lightning.
"Wow," Cassidy and Ron said at the same time, their voices tinged with awe.
The class gasped as Harry dived, arm outstretched. Just before the glass shattered, he snatched the Remembrall midair, pulling up sharply. For a moment, the world seemed to pause—then the Gryffindors erupted into cheers.
As Harry landed, the crowd swarmed him. Cassidy ruffled his messy hair, laughing. "Look at you, Potter! Quidditch prodigy already!" Ron clapped him on the back, beaming.
"Uh oh," Cassidy muttered, freezing.
"What?" Harry asked, still catching his breath.
Cassidy didn't need to answer. They all turned to see Professor McGonagall storming across the lawn, her expression thunderous.
"Harry Potter! Follow me!"
The cheering died instantly as Harry's shoulders sagged. With a heavy sigh, he trudged after her. The remaining trio—Ron, Hermione, and Cassidy—exchanged uneasy glances.
"Think she'll murder him?" Ron asked nervously.
"No," Hermione said, though her voice wavered slightly. "But he'll wish she had."