Not Particularly Well At All.

After potions you gather out on the castle grounds, in a large open clearing. You see a tall bearded figure covered in dirt and twigs marching out of the woods with a well-loved school broom in his hands. You ask around and learn that the large man was Hagrid the Groundskeeper and game-warden. Appreciating him from a distance you surmise that he has either a giant as a parent or several giants in his heritage; as he walks up you realize how massive he is.

Madame Hooch, the flying instructor intercepts Hagrid as he approaches, takes the broom from him, and thanks him. "Keep a better eye on this crew, Ma'am. I know accidents happen an' all, but it'll be dark before I'll be able to find another broom lost in tha' forest." he says in a rich, but soft voice. He waves to the collected first years, and his eyes meet yours. He stares at you for a long second, as if trying to size you up. After a moment, he smiles warmly and genuinely, and turns back towards his cabin. You are moderately surprised at his the earnest nature of his demeanor.

Before you can muse any more on this strangely genuine giant, Madame Hooch starts he lesson. She instructs the class to call their brooms to them. "Up!" you call, and the broom rolls over, but that's it. Looking around sheepishly you see only a few brooms have properly answered their students' call. Among those were Raj, who was beaming, and surprisingly Jennifer who seemed more shocked than anyone else. After a few more calls, everyone else has gotten their broom to their hands. "Come on now, behave" shouts Madame Hooch, and finally the broom lands softly in your palm.

She then begins to instruct you all in the basics of flight. Once everyone is properly mounted she slowly lifted off on her broom. Jennifer had tried to sit sidesaddle, which Madame Hooch put a stop to, "Modesty is no substitution for safety" she said. "All right class, on three you are to gently, -gently!- push off from the ground and steer the broom up to where I am."

"1...2...3!"

Pushing off from the ground and muttering a curse, you find yourself in the air on school broom. Being in the air is not as terrible as you remember, and you almost begin to enjoy yourself when you realize that the broom is moving. Trying to reign in the broom it flips you unto the ground knocking the wind out of you. "Marvolo are you alright?" asks Madame Hooch, who was moving towards you, but stopped to steady a Hufflepuff who looked about as bad off on the broom as you were.

"I'm fine," you croak and grab your broom back. Climbing back onto the broom, and feeling everyone's eyes on you you kick off of the ground, but too hard. The broom lurches upwards and spins to the right. Before you know it you are pinned between broom and the of the castle. Madam Hooch speeds towards you. as you slowly slide to the ground.

She stoops over you "I don't think anything is broken, you should probably sit out." You shake your head "I can do it, I just kicked off too hard." She looks at you with concern. "Are you sure you are alright?" You nod, and climb back on the broom. While the rest of the class practices some very basic aerial maneuvers you spend the rest of the lesson flying off your broom or crashing into walls. At the end of the lesson you are bruised scraped, but your pride remains intact. Madame Hooch sends you to see Madam Pomfrey, and she mends a few cuts, and puts a sprained wrist in a brace, sending you on your way.

You join the rest of the Ravenclaws in the Great Hall, and are greeted with a round of cheers and jokes. "There he is our conquering hero!" quips Ezra. "I don't think I have ever heard of anyone having that much trouble with a broom," laughs Raj "but good on you for getting back up, I don't know if I could have. They outta retire that one!" You take your fellow students humor in good stride, or at least as good as your pride will allow and sit down for dinner.

At the table there's some whispering that Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, had been selected to be Gryffindor's seeker! Apparently they had been down a seeker, and were **** for a new one. You frown over the news, everyone always said that you had to be a second year to try out for the team. Some people had all the luck, it must be nice to be born a saint.

Harry Potter, awarded special treatment, for what? Surviving?!? Everyone in school had survived to 11! What had he survived that you hadn't? Did his muggles hit him with jinxes? Did his muggle family leave him for dead, to fend in the woods around the shack? DID THEY!?!

Shaking you put down your fork and take a deep breath. The thoughts had sprung unbidden into your mind. It wasn't fair, Harry's celebrity was unrelated to you. Jealousy, that had to be what it was looking around, you see the rest of the students going about their meals without a care. If they could go through life without hating someone for being born in better circumstances, then so could you.

You set about your food, and think you see Professor Quirrel staring at you out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn towards him he is engaged in conversation with Professor Flitwick. Instead, you try to focus on your meal and retire back to the Ravenclaw common room, you have no classes Friday mornings, with Herbology in the afternoons, so the night is yours.