Categories > Books > Harry Potter > There Once Was a Girl Named Elizabeth Riddle
Help, I need somebody,
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone,
Help
I slept through the rest of my classes and dinner which means I’ve got detention tonight. Oh well, I suppose lines can’t be that bad. Besides that’s later and this is now, breakfast in the Great Hall. Now there are owls flying overhead dropping the Daily Prophet in front of some, packages from home to others. My owl delivers the Daily Prophet which I unroll quickly, the front page story catching my eye.
After reading I shake my head, “Break in at Gringotts. Perhaps if they got real wizards and witches to guard the place instead of those goblin people things like this wouldn’t happen.”
“Yeah,” Draco mumbles, reading over my shoulder. “What time have you got detention?”
“Late. You reckon Madame Hooch would notice if I skipped flying?”
Draco gives me a quizzical look, “Do you enjoy detention?”
“Never been before,” I reply, reaching for a piece of toast but instead I manage to spill my goblet full of water onto my copy of the Daily Prophet. “Great.”
“Have you tried being not clumsy?” questions Pansy who had seen me trip over my own two feet on the way to the Great Hall this morning.
“No,” I reply.
Pansy rolls her eyes, smiling over at Draco who gives her a blank look. These two have obviously not hit it off yet.
“Why are you so nervous about flying anyway, Elizabeth?” questions Malfoy.
“You’ve seen me walk. Can you imagine someone who trips over her own two feet on a broom?” I reply giving him a ‘that should be obvious’ look.
Draco looks like he is about to say something but decides against it instead just sticking to a nod. This is probably a smart idea on his part.
“Well, let’s go,” Pansy offers, standing up.
I go to follow but as I am getting up I catch my foot under the bench and manage to fall flat on my face much to the amusement to others sitting around me. A pale hand is offered to help me up and I take it. The hand belongs to Draco who seems confused by the fact I tend to fall over every few seconds.
“Nobody saw,” he whispers as we exit the Great Hall on our way towards the outside.
“Course not,” I reply with a nod.
It doesn’t take nearly long enough to reach the grassy area where Madame Hooch has decided we will learn to fly. Standing next to a broom I just feel weird. Some people are meant to play Quidditch others are meant to watch. I am one of those people who are meant to watch.
“Good afternoon class,” Madame Hooch, a women of medium height with short grey hair and piercing yellow eyes, greets us.
“Good afternoon Madame Hooch,” everyone replies as she walks between the two facing rows of students.
“Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Step up to your broomstick. Come on now, hurry up –” students step up closer to their brooms –“Stick your hand over the broom and say ‘up.’”
Beside me Draco holds his outstretched palm over his broom, “Up.” On his very first try the broom flies into his hand. Draco is a Quidditch player.
“Up,” I say once again but my broom only rolls over on the grass, “Stupid thing.”
“Try using a gentler voice, commanding but more gentle,” offers Draco, glancing over at me.
Smiling at Draco I try again, “Up.” This time the broom lifts from the ground making contact with my hand. That’s surprising. “Thanks,” I say to Malfoy.
Instead of saying anything he just shrugs but he does return my smile. He’s not as bad as some people think.
“Now, once you’ve got hold of you broom, I want you to mount it. Grip it tight. You don’t want to be sliding off the end. When I blow my whistle I want you to kick off from the ground hard. Keep you broom steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down.” Madame Hooch instructs.
I swing my leg over the broom feeling slightly odd even though everyone else is doing the exact same thing.
“On my whistle; three, two –” the whistle blows.
The same brown haired boy who had the toad lifts off the ground, his broom seemingly acting on its own.
“Mr. Longbottom!” Madame Hooch says. “Mr. Longbottom!”
“Down! Down!” instructs Longbottom; his broom can’t hear. Instead it rises higher into the sky.
Eventually Longbottom is thrown from his rouge broom, getting his robes hooked on a statue only to fall a bit, get caught on another object attached to the wall. After a second his robes rip and he falls to the ground.
“Everyone out of the way!” instructs Madame Hooch, hurrying over to Longbottom.
Glancing to the ground a shiny object catches my attention; nudging Draco in the ribs I point it out to him. Leaning over he picks it up, tossing it up in the air and catching it multiple times.
“Keep your feet on the ground while I take him to the hospital wind, understand? If I see a single broom in the air the one riding it will be expelled before they can say Quidditch,” instructs Hooch before hurrying Longbottom off towards the hospital wing.
“Did you see his face?” I question Draco.
Malfoy laughs, tossing his new toy into the air yet again, “If he had squeezed this, maybe he’d have remembered to fall on his fat arse.”
I begin to snicker, the majority of the Slytherin house joining in. Some people are just really thick.
“Give it here, Malfoy,” that is Potter, trying to be all righteous.
Draco turns to glare at Harry, “No. I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find.” At that he mounts his broom so that one foot is resting on the bit where the bristles are brought together, the other dangling, “How about the roof?”
With this he takes off around the students, coming through the middle of our crows properly mounted this time. He’s completely crazy but I’ve got to admit if I could fly I’d want to show it off too.
“What’s the matter, Potter?” Draco calls down. “Bit beyond your reach?”
Harry goes to mount his broom but Hermione tries to stop him, “Harry, no way! You heard what Madame Hooch said.” She starts.
“Goody two shoes, Muggle born,” I jeer.
Hermione looks over at me, giving Harry time to kick off the ground into the air. This should be interesting.
“Give it here, Malfoy or I’ll knock you off you broom!” states Harry who I highly doubt has ever flown before this.
“It that so?” questions Draco, that cocky tone lacing his words.
Potter flies past Malfoy at a speed that causes Draco to spin around his broom, hanging upside down for a second before he rights himself. If either of them fall from that height there will be some serious harm done.
“Have it your way then,” Draco says before throwing the crystal ball towards the school.
Harry flies after it, managing to catch it. The group of Gryffindor’s we always seem to get stuck with begin to cheer as Harry lands holding the ball up in the air. Draco lands next to me, shaking his head.
“Harry Potter!” a voice behind us sounds; everyone turns to see Professor McGonagall walking towards us, “Follow me.”
Harry looks frightened but follows anyway. Draco laughs before turning to me, “Looks like you’ll have a friend in detention tonight.”
“A friend…hardly; besides, I think he’s facing worse than detention. Madame Hooch said expulsion.”
A content smile spreads across Draco’s face, “Even better.”
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone,
Help
I slept through the rest of my classes and dinner which means I’ve got detention tonight. Oh well, I suppose lines can’t be that bad. Besides that’s later and this is now, breakfast in the Great Hall. Now there are owls flying overhead dropping the Daily Prophet in front of some, packages from home to others. My owl delivers the Daily Prophet which I unroll quickly, the front page story catching my eye.
After reading I shake my head, “Break in at Gringotts. Perhaps if they got real wizards and witches to guard the place instead of those goblin people things like this wouldn’t happen.”
“Yeah,” Draco mumbles, reading over my shoulder. “What time have you got detention?”
“Late. You reckon Madame Hooch would notice if I skipped flying?”
Draco gives me a quizzical look, “Do you enjoy detention?”
“Never been before,” I reply, reaching for a piece of toast but instead I manage to spill my goblet full of water onto my copy of the Daily Prophet. “Great.”
“Have you tried being not clumsy?” questions Pansy who had seen me trip over my own two feet on the way to the Great Hall this morning.
“No,” I reply.
Pansy rolls her eyes, smiling over at Draco who gives her a blank look. These two have obviously not hit it off yet.
“Why are you so nervous about flying anyway, Elizabeth?” questions Malfoy.
“You’ve seen me walk. Can you imagine someone who trips over her own two feet on a broom?” I reply giving him a ‘that should be obvious’ look.
Draco looks like he is about to say something but decides against it instead just sticking to a nod. This is probably a smart idea on his part.
“Well, let’s go,” Pansy offers, standing up.
I go to follow but as I am getting up I catch my foot under the bench and manage to fall flat on my face much to the amusement to others sitting around me. A pale hand is offered to help me up and I take it. The hand belongs to Draco who seems confused by the fact I tend to fall over every few seconds.
“Nobody saw,” he whispers as we exit the Great Hall on our way towards the outside.
“Course not,” I reply with a nod.
It doesn’t take nearly long enough to reach the grassy area where Madame Hooch has decided we will learn to fly. Standing next to a broom I just feel weird. Some people are meant to play Quidditch others are meant to watch. I am one of those people who are meant to watch.
“Good afternoon class,” Madame Hooch, a women of medium height with short grey hair and piercing yellow eyes, greets us.
“Good afternoon Madame Hooch,” everyone replies as she walks between the two facing rows of students.
“Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Step up to your broomstick. Come on now, hurry up –” students step up closer to their brooms –“Stick your hand over the broom and say ‘up.’”
Beside me Draco holds his outstretched palm over his broom, “Up.” On his very first try the broom flies into his hand. Draco is a Quidditch player.
“Up,” I say once again but my broom only rolls over on the grass, “Stupid thing.”
“Try using a gentler voice, commanding but more gentle,” offers Draco, glancing over at me.
Smiling at Draco I try again, “Up.” This time the broom lifts from the ground making contact with my hand. That’s surprising. “Thanks,” I say to Malfoy.
Instead of saying anything he just shrugs but he does return my smile. He’s not as bad as some people think.
“Now, once you’ve got hold of you broom, I want you to mount it. Grip it tight. You don’t want to be sliding off the end. When I blow my whistle I want you to kick off from the ground hard. Keep you broom steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down.” Madame Hooch instructs.
I swing my leg over the broom feeling slightly odd even though everyone else is doing the exact same thing.
“On my whistle; three, two –” the whistle blows.
The same brown haired boy who had the toad lifts off the ground, his broom seemingly acting on its own.
“Mr. Longbottom!” Madame Hooch says. “Mr. Longbottom!”
“Down! Down!” instructs Longbottom; his broom can’t hear. Instead it rises higher into the sky.
Eventually Longbottom is thrown from his rouge broom, getting his robes hooked on a statue only to fall a bit, get caught on another object attached to the wall. After a second his robes rip and he falls to the ground.
“Everyone out of the way!” instructs Madame Hooch, hurrying over to Longbottom.
Glancing to the ground a shiny object catches my attention; nudging Draco in the ribs I point it out to him. Leaning over he picks it up, tossing it up in the air and catching it multiple times.
“Keep your feet on the ground while I take him to the hospital wind, understand? If I see a single broom in the air the one riding it will be expelled before they can say Quidditch,” instructs Hooch before hurrying Longbottom off towards the hospital wing.
“Did you see his face?” I question Draco.
Malfoy laughs, tossing his new toy into the air yet again, “If he had squeezed this, maybe he’d have remembered to fall on his fat arse.”
I begin to snicker, the majority of the Slytherin house joining in. Some people are just really thick.
“Give it here, Malfoy,” that is Potter, trying to be all righteous.
Draco turns to glare at Harry, “No. I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find.” At that he mounts his broom so that one foot is resting on the bit where the bristles are brought together, the other dangling, “How about the roof?”
With this he takes off around the students, coming through the middle of our crows properly mounted this time. He’s completely crazy but I’ve got to admit if I could fly I’d want to show it off too.
“What’s the matter, Potter?” Draco calls down. “Bit beyond your reach?”
Harry goes to mount his broom but Hermione tries to stop him, “Harry, no way! You heard what Madame Hooch said.” She starts.
“Goody two shoes, Muggle born,” I jeer.
Hermione looks over at me, giving Harry time to kick off the ground into the air. This should be interesting.
“Give it here, Malfoy or I’ll knock you off you broom!” states Harry who I highly doubt has ever flown before this.
“It that so?” questions Draco, that cocky tone lacing his words.
Potter flies past Malfoy at a speed that causes Draco to spin around his broom, hanging upside down for a second before he rights himself. If either of them fall from that height there will be some serious harm done.
“Have it your way then,” Draco says before throwing the crystal ball towards the school.
Harry flies after it, managing to catch it. The group of Gryffindor’s we always seem to get stuck with begin to cheer as Harry lands holding the ball up in the air. Draco lands next to me, shaking his head.
“Harry Potter!” a voice behind us sounds; everyone turns to see Professor McGonagall walking towards us, “Follow me.”
Harry looks frightened but follows anyway. Draco laughs before turning to me, “Looks like you’ll have a friend in detention tonight.”
“A friend…hardly; besides, I think he’s facing worse than detention. Madame Hooch said expulsion.”
A content smile spreads across Draco’s face, “Even better.”
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