FicWad

Chapter 05: Flight of Greatness

Never in his entire life had Argus Filch been a happy individual. Due to his unique status as a Squib, he became extremely bitter at the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Filch took great pleasure into finding misbehaving students and putting them in detention. Some would say it was his sole purpose in life to torture students and Filch tended to agree with these people.

Yet, yesterday Filch ran into the spawn of Satan himself, in the form of young Harry Potter. James Potter and his friends had taken great pleasure in irritating Filch back in the day so Filch thought he would be the young Potter heir would be no different, when he got trained up a bit in magic and discovered ways he could prank people using said magic. Thankfully or so Filch thought, the caretaker would not have to worry about that fact for quite a bit yet. Filch rued the day as between Potter and those twin menaces from hell, not to mention the poltergeist known as Peeves, Filch's time at Hogwarts would be a rough one.

Still, Filch could not be prepared to see what he saw on that morning. It was his cat, Mrs. Norris, who had been turned bright green with purple stripes. Filch looked on in disbelief and felt enraged that someone would dare harm his only ally in his never ending war against students, his beloved cat Mrs. Norris.

"Mrs. Norris," cried Filch. "What did those rotten students do to you now? Don't you worry my sweet; I will get whoever did this. You can count on it, Mrs. Norris."

Filch looked at the possible suspects. This was not the style of Peeves, which left two possible suspects. The evil twins of the damned, straight from the depths of Hell, Fred and George Weasley appeared to be the logical choice to be the culprits in Filch's mind. Filch would have them for punishment right now.

Meanwhile, Fred and George Weasley were up to no good. In other late breaking news for the day, the sun rose in the morning, rain is wet, and politicians are corrupt.

"My dear brother," said Fred. "It has come to our attention we have been here almost two days and we have yet to pull a prank on anyone."

"You don't say," said George. "We must be getting rather forgetful in our old age. This calls for something to make up. I say, Filch seems ripe for the pranking."

"Excellent suggestion, my dear boy," said Fred, beaming. "I say we turn Mrs. Norris into a different color. That fact should be good for a good shock and it is a quite simple charm really."

"Simple yet effective," said George. "Before we go down to Breakfast, we should seek out Mrs. Norris and prove Fred and George Weasley are still in business. The business of mayhem."

"Ah, ha," said a voice. "I have got you now you brats. Twin menace from hell. Abominations of the school. I will throw you into detention for this."

Fred and George whipped around, seeing a snarling Argus Filch looking at them.

"My boy, calm down," said Fred. "We did not do anything...yet anyway."

"You two, are nothing but liars!" cried Filch. "How dare you turn my cat into a multi colored...thing?"

Fred and George looked at each other in disbelief. They were just talking about pulling a similar prank. Someone apparently had beaten them to the punch.

"I swear," said George. "We did not touch the cat. This time we did not do anything."

"Do I look stupid?" said Filch before quickly talking, as he preferred for the brats not to answer that question. "The past two years you have been nothing but hell for me. Dropping dung bombs, fireworks in the hall, well no more. This time I got you. To my office, now!"

Fred and George Weasley reluctantly followed Filch. They did not press their luck with the man but for once they did not do anything wrong. They had wondered who had turned the vile cat of Filch's into a multi colored thing. Little did they know, that person had the deed watching at them get hauled down to Filch's office at that very moment. Harry would have felt bad for the Twins taking the fall for his moment of fun. They must have done some awful things to Filch. Sinking back into the shadows, Harry started down to the Great Hall for Breakfast.

Elsewhere in Hogwarts, Severus Snape felt it was going to be a long year. He clutched his forearm that infernal mark was lightly burning but it could not be. The Dark Lord could not be in the school, Snape was sure of it. According to Dumbledore, he was alone in some foreign country, weak and powerless. If only the burning dark mark was the least of Snape's problems, Potter being sorted into Slytherin had been a real shock. Snape was certain Potter would end up in Gryffindor. He had to be the carbon copy of his father, arrogant and a bit hotheaded. Snape prepared himself for that take that very opinion for years yet something was different. Potter seemed to have a unique way of dealing with people. Almost of a cool sarcastic way, as Snape silently observed when Potter dealt with Malfoy.

It struck Snape; he had only seen an attitude similar in one other person. A person whom Snape had tried to forget because thinking about her brought up too many bad memories. It struck Snape painfully young Harry Potter resembled his mother Lily in attitude, with perhaps only a fraction of his father's personality. Still, Snape had his role to keep. He must treat Potter in a horrible fashion to keep up appearances with the sons of the former Death Eaters. Blocking the thoughts of how Lily would strangle him if she found out Snape was treating her son in this matter; Snape went back to a potion he was brewing. He hoped one day, when Voldemort was completely gone, he could make up for all of his past sins.

In his office, Dumbledore was pacing back and forth in his study. Harry Potter was not supposed to go into Slytherin, not if Dumbledore hoped to accomplish his plans. This occurance was just not supposed to happen at all. The Golden Boy of the Wizarding World could not go into the house, which had turned out the most dark witches and wizards in a century. Dumbledore feared when it came time for Harry to fight Voldemort, to achieve his destiny, Harry may turn his back on Dumbledore's plans and join Voldemort. Then all of Dumbledore's well-laid plans would be shot down. Dumbledore felt he would have to do his hardest to steer Harry back into the right direction, even it had to insist Harry would have to be resorted. Perhaps Dumbledore could persuade the hat to place Harry in his rightful place.

Yet, Dumbledore knew something else was true. Harry was too independent for his own good. He needed to be grounded somehow. Perhaps he could persuade some of the older year Slytherins to make Harry's life a bit difficult, so he would come to the Headmaster, begging for his assistance. Smirking, Dumbledore sucked on a lemon drop. In a few weeks, the way the order of events was supposed to be was going to be set into motion. After all, Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard of his age. Surely, his plans could not go amiss.

The first week of classes was intersting. Transfiguration was intriguing to Harry. Professor McGonagall, who seemed to a bit cold towards Harry, taught this subject. Harry had thought since she was the head of the Gryffindor House and perhaps expected Harry to be sorted there. Still, she was fair, if not a bit strict. They were set to turn a match into a needle. After a bit of hard work, Harry had turned his match into a needle, which McGonagall awarded five points to Slytherin for Harry. Malfoy looked jealous at Harry, as his match only turned to silver color and did not look pointy at all.

History of Magic was perhaps the most boring class in the history of all creation and it was the only one taught by a ghost. Even with Harry's iron resolve, he could only struggle to stay away for about fifteen minutes before falling asleep. Daphne had looked like she actually liked the class and taken good notes, which she thankfully for them let Harry and Theodore copy.

The final class of the week was Potions. It was with the Gryffindors, which no doubt would lead to trouble because as Harry found out the Gryffindors and the Slytherins have had a house rivalry for as long as anyone could remember. Snape had arrived, looking irritable as usual with his long black robes billowing behind him. He looked at the class, taking role before reaching Harry's name.

"Ah yes, Harry Potter, our new celebrity," said Snape as Malfoy and his goons laughed. Harry just looked amused before giving a short bow to Snape.

Snape then looked upon the class.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. Now, I do not expect you to understand and treasure the fine art of potion making. The art, which can bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. In this class, I can teach you how to brew fame, bottle glory, and stopper death. That is, unless you are not the usual bunch of dunderheads which I normally have to teach."

The class looked quiet, hanging on Snape's every word. Hermione Granger looked like she wanted to prove she was not a big dunderhead. Harry was too busy taking notes, finishing them by underlining the world dunderhead three times and then circling it to put extra emphasis. Snape had turned to Harry.

"Potter!" snapped Snape. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Drought of the Living Dead, sir," said Harry without missing a beat.

"Hmmm, perhaps it was luck, let us try again. Where could you find me a bezoar?"

"In a goat's stomach, Professor Snape. It will also cure you from most poisons," said Harry.

"Interesting, perhaps I was initially mistaken, you do have an aptitude for the subject," said Snape before turning to Ron Weasley. "Weasley, can you tell be the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Weasley had a dumbfounded look on his face, which Snape enjoyed.

"Well," said Snape in his most dangerous voice.

"I don't know, sir," said Weasley.

"Potter, do you know?" asked Snape.

"No difference at all sir," said Harry. "They come from the same plant, also known as aconite."

"Correct, Mr. Potter," said Snape. "Ten points to Slytherin for your potions knowledge. Weasley, five points from Gryffindor for not opening up a text book before you went to class."
Ron gave Harry a hated glare but Harry pretended not to pay attention to the hotheaded red head.

They had all paired up, working on a potion to cure boils. Theodore and Daphne had paired up when Harry was paired up with Hermione. Weasley kept staring daggers at Harry, not paying attention to his own potion. Weasley was working with the round faced boy who looked like he wanted to defend Harry yesterday, who Hermione told Harry was named Neville Longbottom. As it turned out, Weasley's lack of attention to his potion cost him back as it started smoking before melting into a twisted blob spilling on the floor and putting holes in several people's shoes.

"Idiot boy," snapped Snape to Neville. "I suppose you put the porcupine quills before you took the cauldron off the fire."
Neville whimpered nodding his head before Snape turned to Weasley.

"Ten Points from Gryffindor for not paying attention," snapped Snape to Weasley. "And take him up to the hospital wing."
Snape then turned to Harry, with a calculating look to his face.

"Why did you not warning him Potter?" said Snape. "I know you know what you are doing. Thought you could look better if someone fouled up? Two points from Slytherin for your arrogance."

Hermione looked like she wanted to save something but Harry shook his head no. When Hermione looked at him for explanation,

Harry muttered: "later."

Harry had left the classroom. Turning to Daphne and Theodore.

"We have the afternoon of," said Harry. "If anyone wants to join me, I am going for a walk around the grounds. Hermione, you are welcomed to join us."

"Are you sure I would be welcomed to come with you three?" asked Hermione looking a little tentative at the other Slytherins.

"Listen, Granger," said Theodore in a cool voice. "We are not all Malfoy clones or future Dark Lords contrary to popular belief. Nor do we sacrifice muggleborns in midnight rituals in the dungeons in our altar of evil."

"So what Nott is trying to say is you are welcomed to come with us on our little stroll," said Daphne. "He just has a bit more unique way of saying it."

With that, the four had descended upon the grounds, walking around and chatting about the first week of school. Daphne and Hermione seemed to hit it off great but they were brought out of their conversation by a booming voice.

"Harry," boomed the voice of the Hogwarts Gamekeeper Hagrid. "I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes."

"Not a problem at all, Hagrid," said Harry as Daphne, Theodore, and Hermione had followed him into Hagrid's hut.

"Back Fang, back," said Hagrid to a great big boarhound who was barking madly.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, offering a plate of rock cakes all around as Harry introduced everyone all around.
Everyone had sat around, talking about the last week, before Hagrid turned to Harry.

"Ya know Harry," stated Hagrid. "You caused quite a stir the last week, being sorted into Slytherin. Unexpected I say. Many of the teachers do not know what to believe."

"Yeah, I noticed," said Harry mildly. "It also seems like many of the students think I am the next Dark Lord. I say they think I am sacrificing small children and animals in the Slytherin common room at night."

Hagrid chuckled, it seemed like Harry had a bit of a sense of humor like his mother. Hagrid got a bit misty eyed, thinking about how Harry's parents met their end.

"People in this school will believe anythin', Harry," said Hagrid. "Sure, you might have gotten sorted into Slytherin and that house has quite a few bad apples but if you are alright yourself, then who cares."

"That is what I have been trying to tell my moronic housemates," said Hermione angrily. "They refuse to shelve their little ideals that all Slytherins are bad."

"Sad," said Daphne shaking her head. "It reminds me of some of the pure blooded fanatics and their attitude about muggleborns. Strange how Gryffindors and Slytherins think they are different but they are extremely similar in their blind prejudices."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in an absent minded tone of voice. "As long as you know the truth, it's all that matters. If others choose to, they will come around."

Harry looked happy that someone else had believed him other than his three newly acquired friends. As he had left and read, something clicked in his mind. The name Weasley, he knew it sounded familiar and now he knew why. The red haired girl from Kings Cross, Ginny, she was Ron's sister. Harry hoped she would not have the same prejudices as her closed minded brother. For some reason, although he could not figure it out at the time, it would pain Harry if he were forced to hate her. Trying vainly to discard these troubling thoughts, Harry went to bed. It had been a long week for sure.

Meanwhile, Marcus Flint was in the Headmaster's office. He did not know why, he was called into Dumbledore's office but he had a feeling this could very well benefit him.

"Mr. Flint," said Dumbledore. "I have called you here on a very serious matter. Lemon drop?"

Flint, the glutton he was, was never one to turn down free candy. He took the lemon drop, shoving it in his mouth. All of the sudden, a foggy sensation appeared in his head as if he was compelled to listen to anything anyone said, no matter the source.

"Mr. Flint," said a commanding voice that Flint felt must be obeyed. "I would like you to convince Draco Malfoy to challenge Harry Potter to a dual but not show for it. On that night, I want you to take some upper classman Slytherins and rough up Mr. Potter slightly but only enough so he appears in danger enough where it would be necessary for me to save him. You have your mission, Marcus Flint. You will not remember who told you this."

Flint nodded dumbly and the next thing he knew, he was lying in bed with a mild headache with no memory of ever been in the Headmaster's office.

It was the day before their first flying lesson, only a couple of weeks into Hogwarts. Harry was about to turn in for the night when he heard a voice coming from his mirror.

"Harry. Harry Potter. Potter, you better pick up this damn mirror before I get agitated," said the irritable voice of Harry's brother Raphael.

Harry picked up the mirror.

"Yo, what's up, Raph," said Harry.

"Leo's being fanatical about our training, Mikey's being a pain in a shell as per usual, and Don is working on tweaking that armor van you borrowed into something we can drive around undetected in," said Raphael. "I saw the designs, it should be a tricked out ride when he is done. Of course, we will not let you drive, as we learned our lesson the last time."
Harry snickered; remember that time all too well.

"So, how's school," said Raphael. "Find out anything else about why that Voldemort creep was trying to kill you yet."

"No, I have been busy," said Harry. "I still need to find a place to practice my martial arts undetected. Perhaps I should ask Snape. He owes me a favor for not wiping Malfoy off the planet the other day for being an annoyance."

"Who is this Malfoy, Harry?" asked Raphael. "He does not sound too pleasant."

"He is most certainly not," said Harry. "He called Martial Arts a bunch of fancy flips and kicks and you know how seriously I take my training. Then he made snide remarks about my parents and Daphne and Hermione had to hold me back."

"Hmm, I better not mention that martial arts comment to Splinter. He might decide to introduce his walking stick to Malfoy's cranium, although that might be a sight to see," said Raphael. "So, Harry, did you make any friends or have you been causing mischief and alienating everyone."

"No, actually, I do get along with several people," said Harry. "I have made friends with two people in my own house, Slytherin. Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass. I also accomplished what could be a modern day miracle. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins hate each other but I have somehow befriended a Gryffindor named Hermione. She has been great to talk to as we talk about magical theory and the like. An extremely smart girl, if I may say so"

"The way you talk about this Hermione, one would think she is your girlfriend," said Raphael with a bit of a smirk on his face. "She is not your girlfriend is she Harry?"

"No not a girlfriend, Raph," said Harry. "Just a really good friend."

"Sure, Harry," said Raphael. "I'll take your word for it."

"Good night, Raphael," said Harry. "If anyone needs anything, they can talk to me."

The day of the first flying lesson had arrived finally. Everyone seemed to be excited however none more than Harry. He felt he could do well on a broom. Hermione had joined Daphne, Theodore, and Harry, who were chatting looking rather frantic. Malfoy looked at Hermione like she was something unpleasant that just crawled out of the earth but Harry gave Malfoy a dangerous look and for once, Malfoy used his brain as something other than a storage device, not saying anything.

"Oh my, the first flying lesson," said Hermione. "Am I the only one that is nervous? I read Quidditch Through the Ages, but it seems like something you cannot learn from a book. I can't be the only one that is nervous."

"Hermione," said Daphne. "Theodore and I have been flying since we were five and I don't think anything can freak Harry out, so yes it is just you. Just relax and don't panic."

"Panic, I am not panicking," said Hermione who was panicking. "It's just, I am a bit nervous, that is all."

"Okay, Hermione," said Harry, absent-mindedly buttering his toast. "If you say so."

A short time later, the four friends had walked out to the Quidditch field. The lesson was with the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. The Gryffindors lined up on one side, with the Slytherins lining up on the other side. The teacher, Madam Hooch had arrived. She was an old lady with short gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"What are you all waiting for?" demanded Madam Hooch. "All of you quickly get by a broomstick. Come on, no dawdling, I am not getting any younger."

Everyone got by a broomstick, as instructed.

"Stick your right hand over the broom," instructed Madam Hooch. "Now everyone say, "Up!"

"Up!" said everyone.

Harry was pleased his broom flew into his hand straight away. Daphne and Theodore's did the same along with Malfoy's but they were the few whose brooms did. Hermione's broom refused to go up, as did Neville's. Weasley's broom whacked him in the face.

"Come on everyone, now with feeling," cried Madam Hooch.
Madam Hooch walked about, showing everyone to mount his or her brooms properly. To Harry's amusement, Malfoy had been doing it wrong for years.

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

Before Madam Hooch could say "one", Neville had risen off the ground, perhaps due to nerves if Harry could guess. Rising high above the ground while panicking, Harry could shudder what may happen next.

"Come back boy," shouted Hooch. Neville was rising beyond her control. Thirty feet in the air before he slid sideways off the broom and splat, Neville crashed into his ground. He clutched his wrist, his face white. Hooch rushed over to Neville, looking concerned.

"Broken wrist," muttered Hooch. "It's all right boy, up you go."

While helping Neville up, she had turned to the rest of the class.

"If I have see any of you near a broom, you will be out of this school before you can say "Quidditch," said Hooch. "Come on boy, off to the hospital wing."

Madam Hooch and Neville left for the hospital wing and then Malfoy burst out into laughter.

"Did you see the fat lump?" said Malfoy. "What a joke, him a pureblood?

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped an Indian girl who Harry had seen before but never spoken too.

"Oh sticking up for Longbottom," said a pug faced Slytherin girl, named Pansy Parkinson. "Never thought you would like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

Harry clenched his fists. Malfoy's goon squad was starting to grind his last nerve and push him towards the breaking point.

Just then, Malfoy picked up a glowing ball with smoke in it that Harry had seen Neville carrying around previously.

"Hey, it's that stupid thing Longbotton's gran sent him," said Malfoy observing the Remembrall with distaste.

"Malfoy, you better put that down or else," snapped Weasley, looking angry at Malfoy.

"Or what, Weasley," said Malfoy coolly. "I think I better put this for somewhere for Longbottom to find, like up a tree."

"Bring that back you sneaking, thieving, Slytherin," snapped Weasley but Harry had seen enough. As Malfoy flew up on his broom and Weasley was too busy yelling like an idiot, Harry had mounted his broom and shot up in hot pursuit after Malfoy.

"Harry Potter, get back down here," said Hermione in a pleading voice. "You'll get us all in trouble."

"Go, Potter, knock him off of his broom," yelled Theodore, looking pleased at the thought of Malfoy getting humbled. Daphne just shook her head, fighting a smile.

"Malfoy, you have exactly ten seconds to come down before I knock you straight into oblivion," said Harry in a cool voice.

"Catch me if you can, Potter," yelled Malfoy, darting off to the right. No doubt about it, Malfoy was good on a broom. For once he was not blowing hot air.

Of course, Malfoy underestimated one thing. Harry's martial arts training had demanded he be quick on his feet and quick to move. The only difference now would be he was on an airborne broom. Malfoy shot up and both were fifty feet about the crowd many who looked frantic but many were cheering. Weasley looked like he hoped Harry and Malfoy finished each other off right then and there. Harry grabbed Malfoy's arm and Malfoy could not move.

"Gotcha, Malfoy," said Harry with a triumphant air to his voice. "Now give me the Remembrall or else. Remember, it's a long way down. "

"Catch, Potter," said Malfoy who tossed the ball. Harry cursed Malfoy and spiralled downwards towards the ball. Harry flew at it at an incredible speed and clasped it into his hand. Harry flew down gracefully as Malfoy looked sulky. Hermione looked like she was torn between smacking her friend for being so reckless and doing such an insane dive, or congratulating him for his excellent catch.

"Excellent Harry," said Daphne. "I must say, I have been to dozens of Professional Quidditch Games and I have not seen anything more impressive than that."

Harry's moment of glory appeared to be short lived as he heard the cold voice which he had learned all too well over the past few weeks.

"Harry Potter, come with me," said the voice of Severus Snape.
Harry looked like he was going to pay for his moment of Malfoy humiliation. Snape had walked into the castle without a word with Harry following. Neither had said a word until Snape had arrived at the Transfiguration Classroom. Snape had knocked on the door of the Transfiguration Classroom.

"Professor McGonagall, I need to borrow Flint for a moment," said Snape.

McGonagall nodded, although she gave Snape a stern look for interrupting her class but Snape paid her no mind. The trollish Slytherin boy got up, looking confused. Harry winced; spending time with the unpleasant prefect Flint was something he rather not do. Snape had pointed to an empty classroom.

"In," said Snape. With those words Flint and Harry had walked into the classroom.

"Flint, Higgs nearly cost us the Quidditch Cup last season, did he not," said Snape. This seemed to be a rhetorical question, as Flint looked at Snape, unblinking.

"Dreadful, he was," said Flint. "If it wasn't for our excellent chasers, the fool would have cost us the game against Hufflepuff."

"Well," said Snape. "Potter caught a small ball from a fifty foot dive and did not even get a scratch. I must say, it was a decent move and if he were to be trained up, he would be an excellent reserve seeker."

"Yes," said Flint, looking Harry up and down in a calculating matter. "He seems to fit the part but he is a first year. He is not allowed a broom."

"Dumbledore owes me a favor," said Snape. "Oddly enough, it was relating to Potter, when I had to suffer through a day of shopping with the boy."

"I will take him on," said Flint. "Potter, practice is five nights a week, Tuesday through Saturday at Seven O' Clock sharp. Do not be tardy or you will suffer my displeasure."

"Now remember, Flint," said Snape. "Potter will not be able to play any games this year unless Higgs suffers an unfortunate accident and is unable to play."

"I understand, Professor Snape," said Flint with an evil glint in his eye. Harry knew Flint would make sure Higgs would have an unfortunate accident in some way in the very near future.

"Potter, if I hear one word about how you are not playing hard," said Snape coolly. "I will expell you."

Snape then paused as if considering something.

"I daresay your father would be proud of you, even if you are helping the Slytherin Team to glory. He had a decent amount of talent on the Qudditch Team himself, about the only thing I felt he was useful for. ."

With that, Snape walked off without a word. Harry could not believe it. He was the reserve seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He thought he was in big trouble but Snape had indirectly given him a reward.