"Watch it," I muttered.

The first year Gryffindor, who's name was unknown to me, paid only a glance as she bumped into me. Without so much as that, she continued rushing forward to meet up with a friend of hers. I rolled my eyes.

"I've lost my train of thought now."

I was talking to Nott. We had become friends, but the journey there wasn't very pretty. After our fight in the Entrance Hall upon our arrival at Hogwarts, we'd loathed each other. There had been over four fist fights since, and one day in McGonagall had had enough.

Nott and I had been sitting across the room from each other, both having finished before much of the class in turning our matches to needles. Considering himself an expert, Nott had turned my quill into a needle while I was taking notes. I did the same to him, and so he used his "expertise" in charms to launch the thing into my hand. I did the same to him again, aiming for his arm instead. After class, we immediately began to verbally abuse each other, before one of us threw the first punch. McGongall had noticed this occurring right outside her classroom, and was all but pleased.

Dumbledore was a loony wizard, in my own opinion. We'd arrived in his office after being kicked out of Transfiguration. McGonagall had stalked out without a word, practically fuming from the ears. Nott and I had been left alone in Dumbledore's office for a while before he entered. We made no move to say anything to each other. When Dumbledore entered, he claimed we must be hungry (even though we'd had lunch not an hour ago). He'd had a house elf bring us a tray of cookies and a couple glasses of chocolate milk. Then, he insisted we stay there and chat over our snack until we agreed not to fight in the school. He left the room.

In the end, Nott and I had actually began to bond. Though it was nothing heartfelt, like either one of us had suddenly burst out in apologies. I'd smirked and commented that if we continued hating each other we'd get to miss even more classes and eat even more cookies. We'd gone through with the plan, and missed all of Herbology before Dumbledore had caught us laughing at the story of the Hufflepuff who had sprained their ankle tripping over a kitten in the corridor a few days ago. Since then, we'd both apologized to one another, and were now on a first name basis.

"Which house do you hate most?" He asked with a smirk.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" I screamed earning several odd looks, all of which I ignored.

Theo laughed. We were quizzing each other back and forth, just to get to know each other better. It was Madame Pomfrey's idea that we stuck to talking, and trying have pleasant conversation rather than fights in the corridors. After our time in Dumbledore's office, he'd sent us to the Hospital Wing. Theo and I had beat each other quite badly once again (though we'd both gone so far that we'd hit our heads and neither of us remembered who had started it). Although I rarely obeyed what others told me to do, Theo and I were having a good time just talking rather than fighting. I'd learned quite a bit about him.

He was older than me, had just turned 12 on October 21, and I missed his birthday. He was a pureblood wizard; both his parents had magic blood. His mother had died when he was young, so Theo was left to be raised by his father, who had been working with Voldemort. One day, when Theo was seven, his father decided he didn't want such a bother like a son, so he moved away, leaving Theo behind. Theo had ran to Drake and his family, who quickly took him in as their second son. After this story, Theo became upset and quietened, and I quickly changed the subject and asked him a different question. His full name was Theodore Damien Nott.

"Okay my turn," I said when he finished his laughing fit. "Who do you hate most out of the whole year?"

"Ron," he said with a shrug. The redhead seemed not to have heard his name, for his conversation with Harry and Seamus had gone uninterrupted.

"I'd say he's a close fourth, maybe," I mused. "That Macmillan fellow in Hufflepuff though..."

Theo chuckled. I expected he take his turn in asking a question, but it didn't come. He turned to me with a serious expression, looking around as if checking for eavesdroppers.

"I need a favor," he said quietly.

"What?" I answered curious, but nervous.

"I need you...... TO GET THIS COLOUR OFF ME!!!" He screamed causing me to jump at least a foot off the ground.

I turned around to face him, giving him a glare. He smiled innocently, which made me laugh. I pushed him to the ground and walked off with a smirk.

"Lily! Come on!" Theo called.

He stood up and brushed the dirt and grass off his robes, before running to catch up with me. I pretended not to notice him, looking anywhere but at his gold and scarlet face. I did notice, out of the corner of my eye, that he frowned.

"Lily I hate these colours. I look like a Gryffindor."

"And that, Theodore, was the entire purpose of the prank," I finally spared him a glance, letting him notice my smirk. "Just because we're friends now doesn't mean you get special treatment during full school pranks."

Theo frowned, and punched me lightly in the shoulder. I punched him back. By the time we reached Flying Lessons, we were in a full scale wrestling match on the ground, though unlike they used to be, this fight was friendly. Grins were spread over both of our faces, and Harry and Draco managed to pry us apart for the lesson, and hold us back.

I looked around and I saw old looking brooms lying in two rows on ground. The Professor cleared her throat and ran a hand through her spiky hair, waiting for our attention. Her golden eyes were not unlike a hawks.

"Hello class, my name is Madame Hooch. Welcome to flying lessons," said the Professor, staring us down with her bright golden eyes.

"Hello Madame Hooch," we all grumbled pathetically.

"Please step up beside a broom," she said enthusiastically, narrowing her eyes at the tone of our response.

We all stepped up beside a broom, Slytherins on one row, Gryffindors on the other. I stood across from Hermione, who seemed quite anxious. I, on the other hand, could barely contain my own excitement. I'd read about Quidditch and flying before, and couldn't wait to try it. I wouldn't even care if I sucked.

"Now put your hand above the handle and say up," Madame Hooch instructed.

I reached my hand out above the broom curiously and said 'up'. To my great surprise the broom shot off the ground and straight into my hand. The whiz of the gap closing was accompanied by only one other, and I noticed Harry was the only other person who had managed first try. Second try, there was much more success, Sydney and Draco among them. The other students had no such luck.

"UP!" Neville yelled angrily. The broom came shooting up and smacked him in the face.

Once everyone had their brooms in their hands, the Professor addressed us all again. "Now I want you all to get on your brooms, hover in the air for a second and then touch back down,"

We all kicked off the ground, most of us being able to hover in the air for a second, then touched back down. I only got a taste of what flying was like as I hovered a few feet higher than everyone else before we touched back down. After that, all I wanted to do was get back in the air.

Gasps resonated through the small crowd of us first years. I focused my gaze where everyone else's was. Neville was getting higher and higher. He looked terrified and wasn't getting any lower.

"Mr. Longbottom get back here this second!" Yelled the Professor.

"I don't think he can Madame," said Hermione, her eyes following as Neville kept getting higher.

Neville yelled in fear and went shooting across the yard the broom swerving on its own accord. Neville was still rising, at about twenty feet Neville's grip slipped. He screamed as he fell through the air and landed with a sickening crack. Most Slytherins laughed. I glared at Draco when he let out a chuckle.

"Broken wrist," declared Hooch. "Have to get you to the hospital wing."

Hooch stood pulling Neville by his good wrist.

"All feet will stay on the ground until I get back," Hooch said a voice of authority airing over us.

She walked off with Neville by her side towards the castle. We all watched until they were out of view and started talking, yelling and laughing about nothing. A crowd of 11 and 12 year olds wasn't quiet, as I could tell by the glances we were getting out first floor windows.

"Look what that Longbottom boy left," I looked over to see Ryker Bertram tossing Neville's remembrall from hand grining slyly. I rolled my eyes.

I knew Ryker Bertram as the irritating, egotistic, cocky, Slytherin boy from the common room. He could be shut up only by the seventh years, who towered over him as they growled about how they were trying to do schoolwork. I rolled my eyes, and he took notice. His smirk grew.

"Give it here, Bertram," Harry said, his voice hard.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna put it somewhere out of poor baby Potters' reach. The roof?" Bertram flew off towards the roof and I got on my broom alongside Harry.

"No. You two are going to get in trouble," said Hermione, alongside Sadie.

"I've got to get Neville's remembrall," spoke Harry, while at the same time I was saying completely different.

"I don't think they can give me detention. I'm booked up for the next week! 14 detentions, two for each night!" Sadie and Hermione glared at me.

Harry kicked off the ground and I followed seconds after. We flew into the air. I felt free, I loved the feeling of the cool air on my face.

"Oh the two little baby Potters followed me. Uh-oh," Bertram said, sarcasm dripping of his tongue. "Maybe I should just get rid of this." He threw the remembrall towards the stone wall of the castle, and I raced off after it, having to dive nearly straight down for twenty feet, catching it right before it hit a window.

I laughed looking at the ball which glistened in my hand.

"Hey Harry!" I called to my distracted brother. "Catch!"

I threw the remembrall as hard as I could towards my brother. Unfortunately, I absolutely sucked at throwing. The ball didn't go quite far enough, and Harry had to dive another fifteen feet right before it hit the ground. He caught the ball, grinned, and hopped off his broom.

I slowly lowered my broom toward the ground, landing beside Harry, smiling. We were greeted by cheers from Gryffindors and Slytherins alike. Of course there was always those Slytherins who booed. Their cries went unheard.

Suddenly Professor McGonagall came marching across the lawn.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Potter, follow me," she said beckoning us.

Sadie and Hermione glared with an 'I told you so look'. I rolled my eyes and walked off with Harry, the feeling of victory still coursing through my veins.