Harry Potter Lord of Shadows

"Hello," Harry said cheerfully.

"You do have your theory down, Mr. Potter. Your father was right in that regard. Well done. Now, I'd like for both of you to straddle the broom and then raise it a meter off the ground. No further. The rest of you, mount your brooms and prepare to hover only a meter off the ground! Yes, Mr. Longbottom, this includes you as well."

She walked up and down the line, correcting hand positions on the broom. "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard, keep your brooms steady, rise a meter up, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. Everyone got that? On my whistle: three… two… one!" She blew it hard.

The class proceeded without any undue injuries. A few stubbed toes on the landing were quickly taken care of. About 45 minutes into the flying lesson, however, things changed as both Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom got into a shouting match. It quickly escalated from there as both their "gangs" vocalized their opposition to one another.

It went from bad to worse when Neville remembered his Rememberall and gave it a quick throw towards Malfoy who instinctively ducked the glass sphere. Gravity being what it was, the sphere immediately began a downward arc from the 15 meters off the ground where the groups were currently hovering.

Straight towards an unsuspecting Blaise Zabini. She and Susan Bones were next to one another, practicing their landings.

Harry, 10 meters away, saw the confrontation and when the ball left Longbottom's hand, quickly calculated the trajectory and sped off to intercept. The school brooms were less than ideal for speed, but Harry pushed his to the limit and managed to catch the Rememberall with roughly half a meter to go.

Of course, the next problem was not to run into Blaise or Susan with his broom. A problem that he quickly decided could be alleviated by simply allowing momentum to carry him under the two witches. And of course, that grounded him. Hard.

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter! Are you all right?"

"… murgle. I think so. Just let me… Mother puss bucket! Actually, I think my right hand is broken."

Madame Hooch blew her whistle. "All of you, down! Now! Put your brooms over there. All of you! Class is over for the day. Mr. Longbottom, I will be speaking to your head of house later about this. Mr. Potter, you are with me. Let's get you to the infirmary."

"Harry James Potter!" came the sound of another teacher, intent on catching up to Madame Hooch and Harry.

Harry inwardly winced and murmured, "Déjà vu."

" Never… in all my time at Hogwarts…" she trailed off while looking speechless.

"Minerva, can we continue this later? I have to get Mr. Potter to the infirmary. I think his hand is broken."

"What were you thinking, young man, going into that dive? You're lucky to only have a broken hand, and not a broken neck. What would your mother say?!"

Harry winced at the thought of his mother. He just knew she was going to scream like there was no tomorrow. Crap, he might even get another howler.

"But what a dive that was, Mr. Potter. Minnie, you should have seen it. And on a Cleansweep no less," Madame Hooch said with a grin as they made their way to the infirmary doors.

"Aye, I did see it. Looks like he has a bit of his father in him after all. So, Mr. Potter, have you given any thought to Quidditch at all?"

Harry remembered how Ireland and France had both asked him in his 6th year to join their Reserve Quidditch team when he refused to play his House Quidditch team. They had heard of his excellent Quidditch skills and had even scouted him during a couple matches. But he refused as he had more to worry about: such as the war. Ireland had sent countless letters pleading for him to reconsider. He had to admit, they were pretty desperate. From what he remembered at the Quidditch World Cup, Ireland had a crappy seeker, but the best overall team. France didn't want him as a Reserve Seeker; they wanted him on the real team. He had to admit, he came pretty close to accepting when Fleur begged him, but he held firm on declining all offers until after the war. Fleur had insinuated that becoming France's seeker would mean he'd get plenty of benefits. He never knew what Fleur technically meant by that, but by the way she was winking at him, he had a good idea.

"I've given it some thought," Harry allowed.

"Good. Because there's something that you should be aware of considering you are an apprentice," Professor McGonagall stated.

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