Lord Christ Almighty! What could be more stereotypical than a witch on a broom? It was so bad in fact that Integra was in half a mind to send for some wart remover, just incase.
Still, bravado aside, she was nervous. She’d never even lifted even a normal broom before. How was she expected to fly on a broom of all things? Looked damn uncomfortable…
Still, on the bright side, she was not the only one with frayed nerves. Hermione seemed apprehensive, Harry seemed somewhat unsure, and Neville’s grandmother had apparently never even let him near a broom useful for more than sweeping.
Of course, for every nervous person there seemed to be someone full of piss and vinegar. Ron has amusing but unlikely tales of adventure on his broom, while that insufferable prat, Malfoy kept ranting on and one about his ability, and bitching and moaning that first year students were forbidden from playing a game called “Quidditch”. All the students from wizard families spoke at great, excessive length on the subject.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked, interrupting her train of thought. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Integra did as she was told, but seemed less than excited. For Christ stakes, it was a bloody broom. Why couldn’t they be something impressive, or at least something bloody cool, like ‘jet-bike’ from Star Wars? She’d take that over a silly broom any day of the week!
She looked down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.
This was bloody ridiculous.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"
She sighed, and along with everyone else, she said, “Up…”
Her broom lifted but not to a level where she could grab it. She glanced over to see the other’s progress. As expected, Ron and the git’s brooms were both summoned to their hands, as, surprisingly enough, was Harry’s. Hermione’s was moving on the ground while Nevelle’ remained on the ground dead still.
She reflected that maybe brooms could read their masters, like horses. If they sense fear and apprehension, maybe they don’t respect you… though that might be giving too much credit to an overqualified sweeping tool.
“Up…” she repeated with a yawn.
The broom lifted a little more but seemed to be in no rush to come to a useful level.
She scowled. “Up, you overglorified feather duster before I snap your stick, and use your twigs for kindling!”
The broom jumped into her hands, with a very stiff jerk. She glanced about the field, and all eyes were locked upon her.
With a shrug, she remarked, “I guess you just need to know how to talk to them…”
Everyone laughed at her statement. Even Madam Hooch smiled.
“Now then, time to mount your brooms…” Madam Hooch stated, before giving them an example of how to do so without sliding off the end.
Along with Harry and Ron, she laughed hysterically when Madam Hooch corrected, Malfoy, telling him he’d been doing it wrong for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle… one… two… "
But Neville, as nervous and jumpy as ever, and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before Madam Hooch blew her whistle..
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was flying straight up like a bottle rocket. Integra saw his terrified face as he looked at the ground, and slip.
WHAM!
Neville hit the ground with a thud and a nasty crack. He lay face down in the grass in a heap. Integra’s heart skipped a beat in terror.
Though she’d only known him for a little while, she’d grown to like Neville Longbottom. He was a sweet boy, had a spine made out of Jello, but she could see in his eyes a hidden courage. She had sworn to herself to drag him out of his box for his own good, kicking and screaming if she had to.
She clamped her hand together and began to silently pray to the lord almighty for the boy’s safety. She hoped with all her heart that the snap had not been his neck.
“Broken wrist…” she heard Madam Hooch state, her face as pale as Neville’s.
Integra gasped in relief. Looking to the sky she mouthed, “Thank you.”.
Madam Hooch helped Nevelle to his feet and looked him in the eyes. “It will be alright boy… Up you go.”
She turned to the rest of the class and scowled.
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with
Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
“It is called having human concern for a fellow,” Integra nonchalantly replied, “Not that you would know anything about being human, you great ape.”
Parry sneered but Malfoy just laughed. “I saw you praying, Hellsing. I can’t believe that they let someone naive enough to actually think there is an invisible man in the sky into Hogwarts!”
Integra sneered, and would have likely assaulted him right there and then if it was not for Hermione grabbing her arm.
“Integra, he’s not worth it!”
Integra sneered, “Maybe your right. He’s worthless.”
Malfoy’s face twisted with rage, but a grin came to his face.
"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Malfoy smiled nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find… how about… up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled.
Integra pulled herself out of her friends grasp and began to approach Malfoy with all the menace that an eleven year old girl could manage.
In a low, hateful voice, she growled, “Now.”
With a laugh, Malfoy leapt onto his broomstick and took off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter, and your girlfriend can come too.!"
Both Integra and Harry grabbed their brooms.
"No!" shouted Hermione, "Madam Hooch told us not to move… you'll get us all into trouble."
“Hermione,” Integra stated coolly, “There are times when you must stand up for yourself and what you know is right. I will not abide a would be petty tyrant.”
Hermione stepped back in surprise, while the other Gryffindors shared statements of affirmation.
Both Harry and Integra kicked off as one. Harry flew gracefully through the air toward their target, while Integra realized that she was having trouble maneuvering the thing.
Harry jerked his stick around, cutting Malfoy off while Integra came to an unsure stop behind him. Being more focused on not falling than making threats, Integra let Harry do the talking.
"Give it here," Harry called, "or we’ll knock you off that broom!"
"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, sneered, and in a barily audiable voice, added, “I’d be more worried about your little mudblood girlfriend there falling off and breaking something.”
Integra’s vision turned blood red, and she began to broil in her skin with rage. He DARED claim that she had DIRTY BLOOD!?
She roared in anger and shot toward Malfoy like a Javalin.
Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady.
A few people below were clapping, not knowing how badly Integra wanted to KILL him.
"You’re outnumbered, and there is no Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.
The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.
“Get it! He’s mine” Integra roared at Harry.
Being one to take a hint, Harry jetted right off after the ball, while Integra slowly came about. For some reason, controlling the broom seemed so much easier when she had other things on her mind.
Like Murder.
“Now, peasant, it is just you and me…” He eyes narrowed, “Now, what did you call me?” Malfoy looked into Integra’s chilling blue eyes, and gulped.
Showing his true colors, he bolted. Integra shot off after him like a rocket.
The two entered a deadly aerial dance. Malfoy was unable to shake her, but at the same time Integra lacked the skill to do more than stay on his tail. After a moment, s realed that she’d have to find another way.
Slowly a smile came to her face. She had an idea.
She reached into her robe, and felt the coolness of gunmetal. She wished she could just shoot the blighter, but it was self defense only. Her hand moved to her wand and she whipped it out.
She only knew a few basic spells, but they’d do just fine.
Wingardium Leviosa!
Integra levitated a large rock from the ground, and into the path of Malfoy’s broom, or more precisely, his face. Draco hit the stone like a bullet, and fell to earth with a screech of terror.
He hit the ground arm first with a loud snap and rolled for another 10 feet before coming to a stop.
Draco howled with pain, his arm bent at an unnatural angle while she could clearly see blood streaming from his likely broken nose.
With a victorious smile, she returned to the other first years.
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(Posted Tue, 07 Dec 2004 06:58)
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