We had our first flying lessons (FLYING. LESSONS. Magical school is the best!) with Professor Hooch, who seems…a bit not entirely human? She has yellow eyes which is kind of odd. Is she some weird human bird hybrid? Oh, wow, I did not need those images in my head. Inquiring minds do not want to know. Okay, so back to business.
I don't think I've mentioned this before, but the magical world is absolutely obsessed with a game called Quidditch. I've attached a link with a document explaining how the game works. [AN: The document will not be included in this story; I just didn't want to repeat the rules we all know already.] The most relevant point, however, is that it's played on broomsticks! In the air! So. Cool. Look, football is awesome, but it's on the ground. How does it get cooler than aerial sports? It doesn't, that's the answer. It just can't.
It turns out my dad was part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team! Which is totally awesome! And also means I have no interest in playing Quidditch whatsoever now, because there's a huge rivalry between the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams and Dad would probably be rolling in his grave if I played against the team he loved so much. (Where are my parents' graves? Does anyone know?) Maybe that seems silly, but it's how I feel and that's how it's going to be.
Neville Longbottom fell off his broom. I don't know much about him. He's clumsy and in major need of a confidence booster. On the other hand, he's one of O'Neill's favorite students so that's not a point in his favor. But! He's also a target for bullies and I. Will. Not. Be. A. Bully. Ever. So even if I'm not a fan of Longbottom as a person, I'm still going to stick up for him.
Even if it's against my own housemates. Which I'm sorry to say, it was.
Longbottom got a Remembrall in the mail this morning. It apparently lets you know if you've forgotten something. It doesn't tell you what you've forgotten, so I'd hardly call it useful, but that's neither here nor there. What matters is that Longbottom dropped it. And Malfoy picked it up and someone snapped.
But it wasn't me.
"Now where's the best place I can put this so that it'll be lost forever?" Malfoy said with a wicked smirk that I was honestly just a tad jealous of. I tend to look constipated whenever I try to smirk.
"Right next to your brains, Malfoy?" Hermione said in the sweetest, most demure tone you could possibly imagine. "You seem to have lost those long ago. At least we know where the rest of your head is – so far up your arse there's not room for your shit!"
Ron and I shared a look that was both awed and terrified. And incredulous, because this was prim and proper Hermione we were talking about. She was not the type to speak out, let alone use such vulgar language.
"What the hell?" Ron whispered softly. "Who is this girl?"
I shrugged, just as confused as he was. And highly impressed.
Malfoy's face turned a bright, incandescent red. "How dare you, you jumped up little mudblood?!"
The whispers around us told me that this was not a very nice word at all. I was ready to defend Malfoy with my wand if need be. True, I didn't know any useful offensive spells, but that wouldn't stop me from shoving it into the berk's eye if I had to. But Hermione? She was way ahead of me. She didn't miss a beat.
"How dare I?" Hermione said in a tone practically dripping with disdain. Malfoy even flinched minutely. I did not fault him for this. "No, this is not going to do at all. You're being silly." She imbued the word with the precise scorn Malfoy had used when saying mudblood. "There are a lot of things I can tolerate in this world, but silliness is not one of them. Look at you. What on Earth are you hoping to accomplish here? Picking on the weak isn't subtle. It's not cunning. And I certainly hope it's not your ambition, though I sadly suspect it is. So give me the Remembrall and stop being silly."
Malfoy's face hardened and he summoned his broom to his hand. "If you want it, muck-crawler, then come take it."
And Hermione did just that.
She was terrified. She didn't even bother hiding it. It took everything she could to not scream. I would have screamed. Hermione didn't, and it wasn't because she wasn't afraid, but because she knew if she screamed, she would lose. And I was starting to realize that if there was one thing Hermione absolutely despised in life, it was losing.
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