Agents of Discord

by KittyrinnAiko

Chapter 21: The Boy who Lived

If Aerie had had to deal with a lot of people watching her or casting not-so-clandestine looks before, the incident with Pettigrew had turned her into something of a superstar. And the irony of it was that she really had reacted instinctively. Sending out little plasma balls was something she’d learned how to do as a pony. Nor did they cause her to faint. She called up Nova Silverwood and asked her about it and the theory they were able to come up with was backlash. A wand was just an inefficient way to deliver a burst of manna. No, wands were intended for finessing manna in small amounts. Not blasting.

At least nothing else could possibly go wrong. Or could it? Nova had to remind herself that their first Broom Flying Lesson was canonically meant to go wrong in some way.

Thursday and the week had been reasonably uneventful. On the morning of their first lesson, most of the students were nervous. Neville seemed especially nervous and his Grandmother seemed very adept at making it worse by sending him a remembrall. It turned red the moment he touched it. Of course, he’d forgotten something. Who doesn’t forget things? Granted that in Neville’s case he’d forgotten to put his robe on.

“Might it be your shorts?” Aerie teased. There are, after all, times when you just can’t help yourself. Poor Neville turned red as a beet and dashed back upstairs. “And don’t forget your robe!” Aerie called after him in stunned silence.

“How did you…” Hermione began. Hermione was about to make it her life’s goal to make sure Neville was properly dressed every morning.

“A lucky guess?”

Draco and company had been only a few paces away and were now standing there gobsmacked. A moment later pretty much everyone who knew what had just happened, bust up laughing.

Most of Aerie’s classmates in the Broom Riding class were especially nervous because the class was combined with the Slytherins. Something Aerie found to be rather ridiculous. Not that she didn't understand it. After all, not only did they have to worry about messing up, they had to worry about doing it in front of the Slytherins. Hermione was especially apprehensive as they walked out to the Broom shed at three-thirty that afternoon where a couple of older boys were handing out brooms. Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, and a Slytherin boy she didn’t know.

Off in a corner was a white shafted ergonomically designed broom with an immaculately crafted sweep. It had silver footrests and the end of the sweep looked scorched.

Aerie couldn't help but be drawn to it as others just took whatever was handed to them. She reached out and felt a tingling sensation as she took hold of the shaft, and a quick inspection had her heart leaping for joy. The Footrests were stamped Carneighgie Adamant Foundry Equestria in the old Equestrian script. It was her counterpart’s old broom for sure and the footrests were likely of the many items her Celestia had sent with her.

“Whoa, hold on there, you don’t want that.” It was Wood, and Aerie was now the last to receive a broom. Wood had just walked over to her. “Aerie, that’s the Widow-maker. That thing’s a killer.”

“It likes me,” Aerie offered. “Please, can I use it? Besides, I know this broom. Not only am I related to the maker, it matches my wand in its core construction.”

“You want to run that by me again?” Wood asked.

In a quiet voice, she whispered, “Blackthorn, and a feather from a horned pegasus. The same one that provided a feather for my wand if I’m not wrong, and my wand is also Blackthorn. And I wouldn't be a bit surprised to find out it was the same tree. It’s a wizard staff that doubles as a broom. Just don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”

“Seriously?” Wood asked. There was a gleam of hope and delight in his eyes. “You honestly think it’ll let you ride it?”

“Oh, I’m fairly confident,” Aerie offered with a grin. “Just look at this,” she let go of the broom for it to just hover right there. When Aerie motioned with her hands it followed her directions. “Ya, it’ll do what I want.”

“Well, alright, I guess. Your funeral.”

“I’ll be fine.” She then walked out of the broom shed with the broom following like a dutiful puppy.

Out on the field, the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years were lining up an arm span apart from each other where they were directed to lay down the brooms they had on their right side. Madam Hooch raised an eyebrow when she saw what was following Aerie.

Aerie decided to take hold of it before any of her classmates saw it. She then joined the lineup, set the broom on the ground, and waited.

Draco Malfoy had a look of extreme confidence. He had of course been bragging himself up all morning, telling stories about how on several occasions he’d narrowly avoided being spotted by helicopters. Seamus Finnigan would tell stories that made it sound like he’d grown up on a broom, and Ron was no slacker when it came to bragging. Just not in earshot of Fred and George who would tease him mercilessly about having to use an old hand-me-down child’s broom that had outriggers to keep it from tipping.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life. His Granny wouldn't let him near the things. Aerie had a feeling that his granny wouldn't let him do a lot of things.

Hermione was looking down at the broom she had with great trepidation. All the confidence she had when doing magic had been thrown out the window.

Aurora was absolutely bouncing with excitement.

“Is everyone ready?” Madam Hooch asked rhetorically. “For your first lesson, you will do nothing unless I tell you. Now, I want you to reach out with your right hand, no, I don’t care if you are left-handed or not. This is broom-riding, not writing. Reach out with your right hand over your broom and when I tell you, not before, you will give the command up.”

Aerie’s broom was already starting to lift up and she had to point her fingers downward to make it go back down.

“Command your brooms up!” Madam Hooch shouted.

“Aerie’s broom slapped into her hand, and Aurora’s broom was no slouch either. Theirs were of the few that did. Ron and Draco had their brooms in hand right about the same time, Hermione’s broom just sort of rolled over like it was a lazy dog, and Neville’s did absolutely nothing.

“Hermione, show no fear. Come on, where’s that confidence of yours?” Aerie said as she tried to encourage Hermione. Hermione looked more annoyed than encouraged. “Come on Neville, if you fall you’ll probably just bounce like when your uncle dropped you out the window.”

Neville looked at her, smiled, and then with more force in his voice commanded up, sounding more like he meant it this time. The broom responded immediately.

“That’s the way to do it, you’ll be playing quidditch in no time.”

Once everyone had managed to get their broom in hand Madam Hooch instructed the group on how to sit on a broom properly. Draco had to have his grip corrected, and he responded by asking how come Aerie got to have a broom with footrests?

“That’s an old personal broom that was left behind a long time ago. And you had your chance to pick out a better broom,” Madam Hooch replied in a dry matter-of-fact tone. “And if she goes and gets herself killed on that thing she’s going to be in a world of hurt.”

Madam Hooch’s response to Draco’s comment had him momentarily befuddled. It also had him wondering how he might manage to get his hands on a better broom.

“Now that you are all ready, when I blow my whistle I want you to kick off from the ground, not too hard, just enough to get you going. We don’t want any first-timers to lose control. Keep the shaft steady, lift up to go up, down to go down, and pull back sharply to land.”

Right on cue, Neville went rocketing skyward.

“Who told you to kick off? Come back here!” Madam Hooch shouted.

“But he didn’t,” Aerie called in Neville’s defense. Aerie had been watching him. “He hadn’t kicked off yet!”

Somebody had jinxed the broom.

Aerie looked about quickly in search of the culprit. Meanwhile, Neville was going higher and higher, twelve feet, twenty feet, higher still as Neville clung on for dear life.

There, in a window, it was Quirrel. He’d a rather smug look on his face. At least he did right before the storm shutters slammed shut. In fact, all the shutters had slammed shut.

High overhead Neville let out a sigh as the broom stopped rising. He pushed down just a bit and was delighted when it slowly descended.

“Someone was jinxing his broom, I’m sure of it,” Aurora announced.

Madam Hooch called Aerie and Aurora off to one side, both getting off their brooms to walk over. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?”

“It triggered an alert in the Wards,” Aurora replied softly. “There was a powerful jinx being cast from the school. I couldn't tell where it was coming from so I shut all the shutters.”

“Dumbledore is bound to have noticed,” Aerie suggested. “If he hasn’t noticed before, he’s bound to have noticed that. I saw someone, but I’ll say no more.”

“We can cross that bridge when we get to it. Meanwhile, we’ll just say it was a prank,” Madam Hooch offered as she watched Neville slowly descend.

The class continued on without any more interruptions with everyone making successful rides.

“Madam Hooch,” Aerie called. Class was nearly over. “Draco would like to race me to the Quidditch field and back.”

“Draco, you are going to need to find a better broom than the one you have if you don’t want to get embarrassed,” Madam hooch offered. “Miles, what say you help Mr Malfoy find something that might give him half a chance?”

“Mam,” Miles, the Slytherin helper offered. “Come on Malfoy, if you win, maybe we can talk Flint into letting you on the team.”

“Wait? Really?” Draco said astonished. Up to that point, Draco thought Aerie was just going to rat him out to Madam Hooch, but then she’d somehow managed to flip it around so that he was now going to get to race her with the approval of their instructor. What’s more, it even held the promise of a coveted spot on the Quidditch team.

“No Promises. Flint's a bit of an ass.”

“What must Flint be like if his own team members don’t like him?” Aerie said softly to Aurora. Draco had to admit that one Aerie was a nice person, and two, what he knew of Flint suggested that even if he did win there’d not likely be a spot on the team for him. And yet, he was going to get to race, an actual sanctioned race.

A short time later Draco came zipping out on a much nicer broom. And this one had footrests. The race was to be out to the Quidditch grounds, through the gates, up and over to come back. Madam Hooch lined the two up and blew her whistle.

Draco kicked off hard, but Aerie ran forward, jumped on her broom, and willed it forward as her feet found the foot pegs.

It was anybody’s guess who would win at this point. Draco had considerably more altitude than Aerie but had ended up being behind Aerie who was only about two feet off the ground. Draco angled downward just a bit pushing his broom just as fast as it would go.

The castle was on the high ground, and even the lawns where they’d started were fairly height up which meant that the further out they went the higher off the ground they got.

“I can’t believe she let us do this!” Draco shouted as he slowly started to pass.

“I know, right?!” Aerie shouted and then laughed in delight as they shot out over and beyond the outer bailey wall.

Back on the lawns by the school, Professor Dumbledore has joined the group.

“Madam Hooch, well, everyone seems to be in height spirits.”

“Professor Dumbledore. I’m just letting a couple of our first years have a little race. Get it out of their system while I can keep an eye on them.”

“Ah, well, I’m glad they are having fun. One question though, did something untoward happen out here a little earlier?”

“It would appear that someone cast a line of sight hex on Mr Longbottom’s broom.” Madam Hooch offered. “At least that’s the appearance of it. He’d lost control, the broom shot heavenward, the shutters slammed shut, and he regained control of his broom.”

“Curious that, and rather alarming. I’m wondering if it was an automatic response? No matter. Still, though, it would suggest that someone inside the school was playing a rather dangerous prank.”

“Can you be sure it was a prank and it has nothing to do with...?”

“That’s what worries me. The trouble is, Mr Longbottom fits the prophecy.”

“In an odd sort of way, he could be referred to as the boy who lived.”

“Shame about his parents.”

Comments

[harts fire]

is Dumbledore that desperate to just go with any person that is close to fitting his needs?
yes ,,, yes he is.

[Moonlight_Mist]

11391848
Well without Harry, Neville is the only one who fits. Personal interpretation of prophecy doesn't lead to self-fulfillment if you get one of the details wrong.

[Da Fennec]

Neville is the only person that it fits and if its a true prophesy nothing anyone does will affect it. IF not who knows what will happen..
interesting twist on the Nova broom in this story. If its a killer little surprised Dumbledore, Madam Hooch or someone in the past didn't get rid of it or at least make sure students could try and use it. That's what should've happened considering the responsibility of the school to the students and their parents

[Kentavritsa]

11392119
if this lines up, we know who made this broom.
though I can't see why they just left it in the open for anyone to play with.
couldn't they afford to throw it away, but leave it for qualified riders in that case?