Chapter 7
{Thursday 5/9/1991}{15:25}{Quidditch Pitch}
The day had finally arrived.
Flying lessons.
Draco had been talking Hermione’s ear off about it ever since the notice went up Monday evening. She had probably heard every story he had twice – not that she was complaining if it meant that she got to know her cousin better.
The flying teacher was a lady called Madame Hooch. She was a short lady with startling yellow eyes and a nasally voice.
“Right, good afternoon everyone.”
“Good afternoon Madame Hooch.” The class of Slytherin and Gryffindor’s replied.
“I’ll have the Slytherin’s to my left and Gryffindor’s to my right. All of you stand next to a broom.” She instructed, getting no arguments. “Very good. Before we start, the rules. You are not to do anything without my express permission, I don’t care how much experience you think you have; everyone will start out as a beginner today. There is to be no pushing, shoving or sabotaging of any kind – it is very easy to become injured on a broom. At the end of today’s lesson, you will all be issued a flying uniform, please wear it to every lesson.”
“She’s awfully serious.” Draco whispered as they were being told the rules.
“Well, it seems very dangerous. I’m sure it’s easy to break a bone without meaning to.” Hermione replied, looking down at her broom cautiously.
Draco noticed her look “You have nothing to worry about,’ he started ‘your father was a star Seeker when he was at Hogwarts. It’s the one thing my mother was always jealous of.”
“Really?”
“Yes. We’ll go and look in the trophy cupboard before dinner.” Draco said before they were being instructed to lift their brooms.
~~~~~
“That was actually quite fun.” Hermione said, a wide grin on her face as they touched down from their first go in the air.
“It is, isn’t it?!”
“Down you come Longbottom.” Madame Hooch called, making the others notice that Neville was having some trouble controlling his broom.
“I’m trying!”
“Just use your words and your magic Longbottom. Connect with the broom.”
“I can’t!” Neville shouted before all of a sudden he was hurtling towards the ground, ripping his robe in the process.
“Out of the way!” Madame Hooch shouted, quickly making her way over to Neville “Dear oh dear, looks like a broken wrist. Come on then, let’s get you to Madame Pomfrey. Everyone else, your brooms and feet are to stay firmly planted on the ground or else I’ll have you expelled quicker than you can say Quidditch!”
“Did you see his face?” Seamus laughed “Maybe if he’d have given this a squeeze, he’d have remembered to fall on his arse.” He finished, his friends laughing with him.
“Give it here.” Hermione commanded.
“No, I think we’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find.” Seamus told her, throwing it to Ron who was already on his broom, ready to shoot up into the air.
“How about up on the roof?” Ron asked before he shot into the air with Seamus on his tails “What’s the matter Black? Too high for you?” he taunted, they were quickly followed by Hermione, Harry and Draco.
“Give it here Weasley!”
“No, I don’t think I will.” Ron said before he threw the Remembrall into the air, both he and Seamus shooting to the ground.
Hermione made a split-second decision to follow after the Remembrall as it descended. She zoomed after the ball, speeding towards a tower, Harry and Draco on her tail. Just as she was about to hit a window she catches it.
The students cheered as they landed back on solid ground. Well, everybody but Ginny Weasley.
“A Black Ronald?! More importantly the Black Heiress?! Do you know what you could have done to our family?!”
“So what? Like she can do anything.” Ron scoffed.
Ginny gaped in disbelief at her twin before turning to Hermione. “Hermione, I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay Ginny, you didn’t do anything.” Hermione said with a sweet smile “You have nothing to worry about.” She reassured before turning her coldest look on Ron.
“Miss Black.”
“Professor Snape.”
“Would you come with me please? Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy too.” Professor Snape requested “Mr Weasley, Mr Finnegan, don’t think that your actions went unnoticed.” He said, before leading the trio away.
The three followed Professor Snape through the castle, not daring to ask where he was taking them or why. Eventually they found themselves outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
“Professor, could I speak with Flint please?”
“O-oh, of c-course.” Professor Quirrell stuttered, letting the desired student go.
“Marcus Flint, this is Hermione Black. She will be your new Seeker.” Professor Snape told the seventh year Slytherin.
“But Professor-”
“No arguing Flint. She is your new Seeker, and you will be opening try outs to first years, this is something that every house will be doing. I want you to actually watch these try outs, I believe that Potter and Malfoy could be valuable to the team.”
“Yes Professor.” Flint sighed, being dismissed back to his lesson.
“The three of you, get back to your lesson and don’t let me catch you doing anything like that again.” Snape said, walking off in the opposite direction.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Did you hear?” the Bloody Barron asked in a terrifying whisper “Hermione Black is the new Slytherin Seeker.”
“Seeker?!” Pansy asked “But first years never make the house teams. We’re not even allowed our own brooms in first year.”
“Well, well, well, I hear that we have a new Seeker.” Fred said as he and George popped up on either side of Hermione “George and I are on the team too.”
“We’re Beaters. Best there are.” George boasted, making Hermione roll her eyes. “Of course, Quidditch is in your blood. It’ll be a breeze.”
“That’s what I was telling her.” Draco said, joining the front of the group “I was going to take her to look at the trophy case.”
“Fantastic! This way little people.” Fred said, hearding the group towards the trophy cases.
“There it is!” Draco called, pointing to several plaques in a case, one of which listed Hermione’s father as Seeker.
“Wow.” Hermione whispered, taking a moment to just look at her father’s name “Do you think my mother played too?” she asked Draco.
“I’m sure. I’ll ask mother.” He answered, looking at a different plaque with different names on it.
Harry was just as enraptured looking at plaques with his own parent’s names on.
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