Ciara didn't believe her luck could get any worse. First, she was sorted into Gryffindor (not that she minded that she was with Harry, Ron and Hermione, but her mother was going to have a fit) she almost got detention with Professor Snape, (scrubbing all thirty of his cauldrons clean with a toothbrush) and lost Gryffindor ten points during that lesson. She had thought that things couldn't possibly get any worse.

Unfortunately, things did get worse.

Thanks to Ciara's schedule, she could tell that first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with annoying Slytherins (Malfoy) as much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday--and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy." Ciara chuckled, "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I'll take care of Malfoy if he gets too annoying." Ron sent her begging look, "Please do."

It was a little obvious to Ciara that Harry had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," Ron said after a moment of silence, "I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Ciara shifted uneasily. It actually wasn't just talk. Draco was very good when it came to riding a broom and playing Quidditch. He had been playing since he was three years old (he had forced her to play until she was locked in the basement). She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

This was not going to end well.

She glanced around the breakfast table taking in everyone's excited faces. Harry isn't the only excited one, she thought. Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom.

Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Ciara had seen Harry eyeing Ron as he prodded Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life because his grandmother had never let him near one. Ciara felt she'd had a good reason because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book--not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday, she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages (Although Ciara loved that girl to pieces, she really wasn't interested about learning about how Gweong went to have tea on Tuesday for some reason.)

Neville was the only one who seemed to be enjoying it. He was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. Ciara hadn't gotten a letter ever since her mother scent that dreadful howler, which she was grateful for.

A barn owl caught her attention as it dropped Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things--this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red--oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "...you've forgotten something..."

Ciara stared at him curiously, "It's not really helpful, is it?" She continued when everyone stared at her curiously, "I mean, how does it help you remember if it doesn't show you what you've forgotten?' Neville didn't seem to hear her as he was trying to remember what he'd forgotten. Unfortunately, at that moment, Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet (Harry ignoring Ciara who was trying to hold him down.) They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall (much to Ciara's gratefulness), could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school and was there in a flash.

She turned to Ciara with a questioning glance. She knew Ciara wouldn't dare lie when it came to Malfoy. She knew no Gryffindor would, but when it came to him, she trusted Ciara the most. "What's going on?"

Ciara nodded at Malfoy, "Malfoy's got Neville's Remembrall, Professor." Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table. "Just looking," he said, before turning towards Ciara. Ciara's face paled as Malfoy whispered a few words to her: Your mother is going to hear about this.

Before anyone could question him on what he said, he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. Ciara forced herself to nibble on a little piece of bacon, trying to force away the nauseous feeling building up in her stomach. Unfortunately for her, Harry noticed. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder, 'Hey, are you okay? You seem really pale.'

Ciara continued to nibble on her bacon, shrugging, 'Just something Draco said. It doesn't matter.' Harry grinded his teeth as he clenched his fist under the table. If there was one thing Harry hated about Draco, it was how he would always snitch to Ciara's mother whenever she did something good.

To him, it was extremely sickening.

He did his best to keep the anger off his face, masking it with concern, 'What did he say to you?' Her hands were shaking slightly and her words were coated in fear, 'He said my mother was going to hear about it.' Harry's jaw dropped, "What?! But you didn't do anything wrong!"

Ron stared at them in alarm, "What's going on?" Harry did his best to hide his rage (while failing miserably), "Draco is going to snitch to Ciara's mother about her telling Professor McGonagall about Neville's Remembrall!"

Ron's jaw dropped at the unfairness and he glared at Malfoy, "That little git, I should-" Ciara sent him an alarmed look, "Please you two-" They ignored her and Harry almost beginning to stand up before she said, "I don't need you two to go and fight for my honour!" They stared at her, dumbstruck, and her gaze softened, "Please, if you care about my well being, you won't go fight him and you tell anyone about this." They both sighed and, almost unwillingly, sat down.

At three-thirty that afternoon, all of the first-year Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Fred and George Weasley had complained about the school brooms one night in the common room, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

They only had to wait a few moments before their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. "Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. Ciara's broom was no better, her's was almost bent at a ninety-degree angle. "Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!' "

"UP" everyone shouted.

Harry and Ciara's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. 'Perhaps brooms are like horses and could tell when you were afraid,' Harry thought to Ciara. She nodded, it made sense. There was a slight quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Ciara had rolled her eyes at Harry and Ron's delight when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

There was a sudden thunk below her before Ciara realized she had dropped her broom. She glanced down and her eyes widen in shock, 'Um...Harry? I need help.' Harry glanced over, prepared to ask her what she needed help with and his mouth opened in shock. Although Ciara's broom was on the ground, she was hovering about seven inches over the ground.

Ron standing on her other side, glanced at her to see what she was doing, stared at her wide-eyed as he saw her off the ground without a broom.

"Bloody-!"

Ciara jerked her leg back and gave him a swift kick, but with her being seven inches off the ground, she nearly hit him in the unmentionables. Harry grabbed her ankle before glancing over at Ron, "Pull her down!" Ron wordlessly grabbed her other ankle and pulled her down. Ciara quickly grabbed her broom and put it between her legs and smiled at them, thankful, "Thanks guys."

Before they could respond, Madam Hooch spoke again, "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -- three -- two--"

The next thing Ciara knew, Neville was in the air, a terrified expression and Madam Hooch screamed at him to come back down. Ciara's eyes widen as Neville fell off his broom, almost twenty feet in the air.

WHAM--a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," She muttered to herself, although everyone seemed to hear her. "Come on, boy--it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class as soon as she got Neville to his feet. "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. Ciara would have rolled her eyes if she wasn't so worried about Neville, 'They won't throw us out of Hogwarts. You'd have to do something really stupid and dangerous before that would happen.'

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face when he fell? The great lump!" The other Slytherins immediately joined in, laughing and snickering and making jokes about Neville. Ciara clenched her fists, 'Someone's gonna die today.' Ciara went to step forward (and most likely punch one of the Slytherin's in the face), Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders, stopping her.

Majority of the onlookers glanced over when they saw movement out of their peripheral vision. Immediately, people started whispering, pointing and giggling. Harry and Ciara snapped back into attention and blushed. Harry quickly let go of Ciara and took his place close to Ron (Ciara not to far away). Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry, "Are you sure you two aren't a couple?" Harry flushed again and mumbled a quiet 'no'.

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The golden pieces of the Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up like a prize he just won.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Ciara felt a ball of pride build up in her chest as Harry said that. The last time he had stood up for himself or even stated his own beliefs, Vernon nearly broke Harry's nose by hitting him so hard. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily and Ciara's stomach churned in disgust as he did. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find -- how about -- up a tree?" Harry and Ciara's cheeks flushed with anger. Before anyone could react, Ciara marched up in front of Draco and glared at him. Draco flattered, hating that his cousin was glaring at him before his expression became emotionless.

She held out her hand, continuing to glare at him, "Give it, Malfoy." His glare hardened, "No, Riddle. I don't think I will." Her face flushed even more and Harry began to worry that she'd would break his neck, "Malfoy, I won't ask again-"

The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the courtyard. Draco stared at the back of his hand, which was now a bright red colour. He looked up towards Ciara, whose head was facing the left. She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears. His heart clenched in guilt and his voice came out as a whisper, "Ciara..."

Harry's face was completely red with anger and he began marching towards Draco, "Give it here, Malfoy!" Draco jumped back in surprise and when doing so, he threw the Remembrall as far as he could. Harry leapt onto his broom, ignoring Hermione as she hissed at him, "Harry, get off of that broom before you lose Gryffindor some House Points!"

Blood was pounding in his ears as he mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him. Even though he was extremely angry, he felt a great joy when being off the ground. It was like the sweet relief of passing out when Vernon was being too rough with him. He soon realized he'd found something he could do without being taught -- this was easy and brought him great joy, but not as much as Ciara did. He pulled his broomstick up a little to make it go even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

But even with all the noises on the ground, he still had two goals in mind: catch the Remembrall and make sure Ciara was okay before he hexed Malfoy into oblivion.

Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin A few people below were clapping as Harry shot forward like an arrow towards the Remembrall. But to him, the clapping didn't matter. All that mattered to him was Ciara's voice in his head, cheering him on, 'Keeping going, Harry! You're almost there! Just keep going!'

Harry saw it all in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down and he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing towards the ball. The wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching, but somehow all he could hear was Ciara's screams to joy and excitement as he dove towards the Remebrall. He stretched out his hand and when he was a foot from the ground he caught it.

He managed to pull his broom up straight, still buzzing from the excitement of flying. He set his feet gently on the ground and nearly fell over when Ciara charged at him for a hug. "That was amazing Harry!! Absolutely incredible!! How did you fly like that!!" He smiled into her hair, enjoying the feeling of her arms wrapped around him, "I don't know, but it was incredible."

He pulled back slightly and stared at her for a moment. She was absolutely breath-taking. Her hair was poofed out slightly, her eyes were wide with excitement and her right cheek was red from when Malfoy hit her. Beautiful

"HARRY POTTER!"

Professor McGonagall was running toward them. The joy he felt from Ciara hugging him faded slightly as the fear of being expelled settled in. She was slightly red in the cheeks when she reached them, "Never -- in all my time at Hogwarts--"

Professor McGonagall's expression was filled with shock and her glasses flashed furiously, " -- how dare you -- might have broken your neck--" Ciara had to bit her lip to keep from talking out loud, 'Madam Pomfrey could have healed it immediately unless it killed us. But it's nice to know you care.' Harry bit his lip to keep from smiling.

Several Gryffindors began speaking up for him immediately.

"It wasn't his fault, Professor--"

"Be quiet, Miss Riddle--"

"But Malfoy--"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Harry felt a ball of anxiety build up in his chest. They're gonna send me back to the Dursleys, he thought to himself, They're sending me back and I'll never be able to see Ron or Ciara anymore. At that moment, he wanted no more than to curl up into a ball and hide from the world. Ciara's voice echoed through his head, 'Calm down Harry, if they send you back, I'm going with you. You're not getting away from me that easily.'

He glanced over his shoulder as he walked away with Professor McGonagall. The Gryffindors were looking at him in pity and the Slytherins were laughing at him, doing their best to hide their smiles with their fists. But Ciara was the only one who held his attention,

Just like before, she was still breath-taking in Harry's eyes. Her eyes were bright with contentment and she sent him a thumbs up, before tapping her temple, 'Good luck and if you need me, I'll be right here.'

Harry smiled, his heart doing a triple backflip at her smile. He didn't look away from her until him and Professor McGonagall entered the castle and even then, he couldn't get her smile out of his head.

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