Wands and Wings

Chapter 13 : First Flying Lesson

Maia's excitement bubbled inside her like a cauldron of potion nearing its boiling point. The sight of the crowd gathered around the Gryffindor common room piqued her curiosity, momentarily shrouding her mind in mystery until the realization dawned on her – it was the day of their first flying lesson. Her heart raced with exhilaration; today marked the beginning of her Quidditch journey, a dream she had harboured for as long as she could remember.

As the news spread that Gryffindor and Slytherin would be sharing the lesson, Harry's grim expression was amusing to Maia. "Typical," he muttered, his tone laced with frustration. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

Maia couldn't help but chuckle. Harry's concern was valid, but for her, the prospect of flying far outweighed any fear of embarrassment. She nudged Harry playfully, her eyes alight with determination. "Who cares about Malfoy? We're going to fly! It's our chance to soar above the ground, to embrace the wind in our hair. Let him laugh – we'll be too busy enjoying the magic of the skies!"

With a newfound sense of excitement, Maia eagerly followed her fellow Gryffindors to the flying lesson, her heart soaring higher than she ever imagined. Quidditch was not just a game; it was a passion, a part of her magical soul waiting to take flight. As they stepped onto the pitch, broomsticks in hand, Maia's anticipation reached its peak.

Madam Hooch, the stern flying instructor, stood tall on the grounds, her sharp eyes scanning the group of eager first-years. The air buzzed with anticipation as students fidgeted on the balls of their feet, broomsticks clutched tightly in their hands. Among them were Harry and Maia Potter, both trying to contain their excitement.

Madam Hooch's voice cut through the crisp air. "Welcome to your first flying lesson. Stick your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!'" she commanded. The students, Harry and Maia included, followed her instructions. Maia's heart raced; she couldn't wait to feel the wind in her hair, to soar high above the ground.

"Three, two, one — UP!" shouted Madam Hooch. The broomsticks jumped into the students' hands, but not without a few struggles. 

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch instructed. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two —"

But before Madam Hooch could finish her countdown, Neville, consumed by nervousness, kicked off from the ground too soon. Panic flashed in his eyes as he shot up into the sky like a skyrocket, reaching terrifying heights before slipping off his broomstick and falling to the ground with a sickening thud.

Madam Hooch rushed to Neville's side, her face pale with worry. "Broken wrist," she muttered, helping him up with utmost care. "Come on, boy — it's all right, up you get."

As she led Neville away, Maia's eyes narrowed in fury. Malfoy's laughter echoed across the pitch, an infuriating sound that grated on her nerves. She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to retaliate.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil, her voice firm with indignation.

Maia's irritation grew. 

The Quidditch pitch seemed to crackle with tension as Malfoy, his eyes glinting with mischief, taunted them with Neville's Remembrall. The sun glinted off the shiny surface of the magical object, making it seem even more precious.

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said, his voice low but firm, his eyes fixed on Malfoy.

Malfoy's lips curled into a sneer. "If he'd given this a squeeze, maybe he'd have remembered to fall on his fat arse."

Maia's patience snapped like a brittle twig. "Give it here, you stupid bleach-blond daddy's boy," she retorted, her tone laced with irritation.

Malfoy's smile turned malicious. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"

With a flick of his broomstick, Malfoy shot upward, expertly maneuvering himself toward the topmost branches of an oak tree. Maia felt a pang of frustration. She knew he could fly, of course. She had read about this countless times. Yet seeing it unfold in front of her eyes was a different experience altogether.

Hovering confidently near the treetop, Malfoy called down, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry and Maia grabbed their brooms, ready to launch themselves after Malfoy. But before they could make a move, Hermione's voice sliced through the air like a whip.

"No!" she shouted, her tone desperate. "Madam Hooch told us not to move — you'll get us all into trouble."

Maia hesitated, torn between following the rules and defending their friend Neville's prized possession. She glanced at Harry, his eyes determined and jaw set with resolve. In that moment, she made her decision.

"We can't let him get away with this," Maia said, her voice determined. "If we don't act now, he'll think he can get away with anything."

With a steely glint in her eyes, she kicked off from the ground, flying toward the tree where Malfoy hovered. She was ready to fight not just for the Remembrall, but for the courage to stand up against injustice, even if it meant breaking a few rules along the way.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Maia leaned into her broomstick and shot toward Malfoy, determination blazing in her eyes. She snatched the Remembrall from his hand, swift as a striking snake. Before Malfoy could react, she flung it high into the air, aiming it for Harry. Harry, in a display of extraordinary skill, chased after it, his movements precise and determined. With a graceful swoop, he caught the Remembrall, proving his abilities as a natural-born flyer.

Yet, as Maia glanced back toward the castle, her triumphant feeling wavered. Professor McGonagall's stern face stared back at her from a window, her expression a mix of surprise and disappointment. Maia's heart sank. They had broken the rules, and McGonagall had caught them red-handed. Whoops.

They landed on the ground. The crowd cheered for their daring stunt, but Maia couldn't shake off the feeling of impending trouble.

"Potters!" McGonagall's voice cut through the noise. "It wasn't their fault, Professor —" Parvati started, but McGonagall silenced her with a stern look.

"Be quiet, Miss Patil —"

"But Malfoy —"

"That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potters, follow me, now."

Reluctantly, Maia and Harry followed McGonagall, their hearts heavy with the anticipation of punishment. As they walked, Maia couldn't help but notice Malfoy's smug expression. He believed he had won, that he had successfully gotten them into trouble. If only he knew the truth.

Despite the situation, Maia found it hard to suppress a smile. Harry was going to be the youngest Seeker in a century; his talent had been showcased for everyone to see.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick. May I borrow Wood?" McGonagall said, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Wood, I've found you a Chaser and a Seeker," she announced, her words filled with pride and hope, the future of Gryffindor Quidditch team looking brighter than ever before.

A/N : sorry this chapter was a bit longer to release, i took some advice from @toniforbes16 and tried to make it better. thank you all for reading my book :)