As it turned out, every common room had had a similar announcement posted. But not every house took it the same way. Harry and Lina found that out the next morning, at breakfast.
"It's a trick," Malfoy declared at the Slytherin table. "A simple exploding curse and a bag of some kind of blasting potion."
That thought was rebutted from his own table. A slightly older boy named Adrian, a Chaser for the house team, snorted loudly. "If her arm's strong enough to throw a blasting potion that high, we should hope she never tries out for quidditch."
"They'd never replace the Weasleys with her, would they? Course she looks enough like them with that hair of hers."
"I was thinking Chaser. Think of how fast she could throw the quaffle."
Lina looked to Harry. "Do you have any idea what they're on about?"
Harry shrugged and looked to Ron. "You've mentioned quidditch a few times. What is it?"
"You don't have quidditch where you come from?" Ron asked, absolutely amazed by the sound of it. "I didn't know there was anywhere that didn't have quidditch."
Harry shrugged. "So what is it?" he asked, hoping to get away from the topic of where the Inverses are from. He liked Ron, but Dumbledore seemed pretty sure that keeping that secret was important. Given some of the Slytherins, Harry didn't have any problems not talking about himself. Lina, on the other hand, was so used to going on about her reputation that Harry had to keep a close eye on her.
"Well it's a sport," Ron started. He did like talking about quidditch. "Two teams of seven players, flying on broomsticks of course,"
"Wait," Lina said. "What was that about broomsticks?"
Ron just gaped at them.
The next week began a class Lina and Harry had a hard time fitting into their world-view: flying.
"Why do you suppose they use broomsticks?" Harry asked.
Lina shrugged. "Wands, broomsticks, potions, they like having tools."
"Yeah, but broomsticks?" Harry asked again.
"Tradition, Inverse," a teacher Harry hadn't met said. "I am Madam Hooch, your flying teacher. Flight is one of the simplest, most practical means of travel to a wizard. Centuries ago broomsticks were among the few muggle objects big enough that wouldn't attract too much attention."
"But surely now that isn't the case," Harry objected, remembering Aunt Petunia's vacuum cleaner. And these wooden, unpainted brooms were rather archaic.
"Somewhat," Hooch agreed easily, "but nothing else has caught on the same way."
"So it's marketing," Lina said. "Wizards think you should fly brooms, so the broom-makers don't have any reason to do something else."
"Exactly. Now if the two of you would head to the grounds, class will begin as soon as I find out what Peeves did with all my teaching brooms."
The Inverses made their way to the open grounds where Gryffindor and Slytherin were gathered. Malfoy was still boasting about his flying, Neville was struggling with his Remembrall (which stubbornly refused to be any color but red), and Ron was having another go at Dean about soccer.
Malfoy spotted them first. "What?" he asked in overblown astonishment. "You're going to learn to fly a broom, Potter?"
"Inverse," Harry corrected. No one paid attention.
Least of all Malfoy, who continued on, "I would have thought that backwater hedge magic of yours would just explode you into the air."
Most of the Slytherins laughed, while the Gryffindors slid away from the Inverses. Of all the first years, only the Gryffindors had seen Harry and Lina cast spells up close and spontaneously – their barrage against Peeves – and so knew better than to take those strange spells as a joke. Whatever reprisal Lina or Harry could have come up with went unrealized, however. Madam Hooch was back with an armful of old, ratty brooms.
"Alright settle down. Everyone take a broom and line up with the broom on the ground next to you," she called impatiently. In moments the class was arranged to her satisfaction. "Now, stick your hand out over your broom and very clearly call UP."
Harry looked down at the dilapidated broom and decided there were more foolish things he'd done in his life. "Up!" he yelled, along with the rest of the class. Harry's broom flew neatly into his hand. Lina's reared up mightily and nearly walloped her in the face. Hermione, already getting a reputation for deciphering spells quickly, barely managed to get it to roll over. Malfoy was the next to gain his broom, then Ron, a few more, and finally Neville managed to get his broom in his unsteady hand.
Hooch then went down the line, demonstrating the proper grip. Malfoy was humiliated that he had been doing it wrong, but doubtless would boast loudly how his style made him faster or something later. When everyone was ready, Hooch instructed them on how to take off, hold steady, and then descend. "Ready? On my whistle, rise a few feet, hold it for a moment, and come down gently. Three – two –"
But poor Neville panicked and kicked off early. He rose far too high, Hooch shouting at him to come down, until finally he slipped and fell a good twenty feet. Harry winced at the landing – the loud CRACK told him all he needed to know about Neville's wrist. Sure enough it was broken, and Hooch hurried him off to the hospital wing. "None of you is to move!" she roared. "If I see one broom in the air, you'll be on your way out before you can say 'Quidditch!'"
Once she was gone Malfoy doubled over with laughing. "Did you see his face? The fat idiot looked like he was going to die from shock!"
"Shut it, Malfoy," a Gryffindor girl snapped. After a moment, Harry placed her name. Pavarti…Pail? No, Patil. A Slytherin girl called Pansy teased her for standing up.
Malfoy interrupted. "Look!" from his bent-over position he had spotted Neville's Remembrall. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him!" He picked up the crystal ball and tossed it lightly from hand to hand. Something quiet and raspy made noises behind him, but he brushed that off. He turned around to gloat about his prize only to find Lina and Harry staring at him inquisitively and all the Slytherins except Crabbe and Goyle a good five paces away at least. The sudden evacuation of the space around Malfoy had less to do with the looks being directed at him and more with the glowing red-gold ball of magic in Lina's hand.
"He's a bit scrawny to be a bandit," Harry mused.
"He's mean enough," Lina objected.
"That trinket looks fragile, though. If you blast him, it might break."
"What would you suggest, then?"
Malfoy felt his muscles clench as he contemplated the destructive potential of that sphere of magic. It was harder to dismiss it as a trick when they were threatening to blow him up. He noticed everyone else was disturbingly quiet. "Um, bandit?"
"Well, that isn't yours," Harry pointed out. "But that won't be a problem much longer."
Malfoy felt like something was squeezing him. I will not panic. I will not panic. Something moved on the remembrall and he tore his gaze from Lina's spell to glance at it. A great big snake with a red snout was taking it out of his hands and trying to swallow it.
Not panicking ceased to be a viable option.
"YAAA!!" Malfoy screamed, letting go of the thing and jumping away. He realized the clenching wasn't (entirely) fear but the snake was wrapped around his legs and torso! "AHHHH!!!" he added. Lina's fireball winked out, but no one was paying attention to her anymore.
Kora closed her mouth around the remembrall and calmly loosened her coils to fall to the ground. Malfoy ran away and Kora slithered back to Harry.
Harry smiled calmly as Kora slithered into his robes and came out his arm to release the (slightly slimy) remembrall into his hand. "Good girl, Kora," he hissed. Kora flicked her tongue against his cheek and vanished back into his robe to curl up around him like a scaly belt.
"Y-you you," Malfoy stuttered.
"I can talk to snakes," Harry agreed.
"It tried to bite me!"
"Considering her lack of venom, that would not have hurt you," Harry said lazily.
"She could have strangled me!"
"She was nowhere near your neck."
Malfoy worked his mouth wordlessly for a moment. He noticed the Slytherins were regarding the Inverses with genuine fear now – for all they could laugh off massive explosions, there wasn't a man among them who could do the same with a parselmouth.
Madam Hooch returned to a class of unusually quiet Slytherins and smug Gryffindors. She sighed. I guess first blood this year goes to Gryffindor, she thought. At least it wasn't her problem to deal with. She saw Mr. Inverse hand Neville his remembrall and sighed again. "Whatever," she mumbled. "All right! Everyone mount your brooms and we'll try this again!"
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(Posted Sat, 24 Sep 2011 19:04)
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