Better Be Slytherin!

– suddenly rose into the air before she blew her whistle. He looked terrified.

'Come back, boy!' Madam Hooch shouted, but he kept going up and up, so fast it was like a rocket, and then he slipped to the side and fell, down, down . . . and hit the ground with a meaty thud, making everyone wince.

'Broken wrist,' the instructor muttered as she bent over him where he lay on the grass. 'Come on, boy -- it's all right, up you get.' She turned to the rest of the class. '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.'

No sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter. 'Did you see his face, the great lump?'

Some of the other Slytherins snickered right along with him, but Harry scowled at them. 'Shut up, Draco, he was hurt. I'd like to see you do better with a broken wrist.'

'What do you care about stupid Longbottom?' Draco asked. 'Sticking up for crybabies now, too?' He turned his sneer on Millicent, and she glared back at him.

The blood rushed to Harry's face. 'Just because I don't pick on people who don't deserve—'

'Maybe you should've been a Gryffindork, Potter,' Zabini mocked. 'Then you could stick up for all the losers you wanted from the comfort of your own little tower in the sky.'

'Shut up, Zabini,' Harry growled. 'Remember rule one?'

Zabini scowled back, but kept his mouth closed.

'Oh, hey, look,' Draco crowed suddenly. 'It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him.' He picked something up and held it high. A glass ball about the size of a marble, it looked like it was full of white smoke, and glittered in the sun.

'Hey, that's Neville's Remembrall!' Ron shouted.

Harry stepped up beside Draco. 'Give that here.'

'Why should I? Maybe I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. Like up a tree.'

'Give it here!'

Draco leapt onto his broomstick and was up in the air, hovering at the height of the nearby trees in seconds. 'Well? Come and get it.'

Without even thinking, Harry grabbed his broom. Blood pounded in his ears, and he kicked hard against the ground. He soared up, up high, and the wind whipped through his hair as he climbed higher, like he'd been born to be in the air, born to fly. He could do this; it was easy. It was wonderful. After pulling on his broom to go a bit higher, he turned sharply to meet Draco, face to face in mid air. He held out his hand. 'Give me that,' he said clearly, but in a low voice.

Draco shook his head. His voice was low, too; by unspoken agreement, both of them tried to keep their conversation just between them. 'No mercy, remember? Let it go, Harry.'

'I won't. The kid was scared and hurt, and he didn't do anything to you or any of us. I won't let you break his present from his Gran, too.'

'Suit yourself,' Draco said. 'But you'll have to catch it.'

Harry frowned, and then realized what Draco meant when the blond threw the glass ball high into the air and then streaked back to the ground before Harry could stop him.

As though in slow motion, the ball rose up in the air and then started to fall. Harry leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down -- he gathered speed in a steep dive, racing the ball -- wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching -- he stretched out his hand -- a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

'MISTER POTTER!'

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor Snape was hurtling toward him, his great black robes billowing out like bat wings. His black eyes flashed dangerously. Professor McGonagall was hurrying to catch up, her pace no match for Snape's.

Harry got to his feet, trembling.

'Of all the asinine, imbecilic, senseless things to do!' Snape snarled as he came to a halt to loom over Harry. He snatched the Remembrall from Harry's hand, and passed it over to McGonagall without so much as a look in her direction. 'You could have broken your fool neck!'

'Professor, it wasn't his fault—'

'Not now, Miss Granger,' McGonagall said, and Harry turned to see who'd defended him, noting a bushy haired girl for the first time, and then remembered her from the train. Hermione Granger. But before he could even say thanks, a hand grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the school.

He stumbled forward as Snape growled, 'Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, follow me,' and then took off so fast that Harry and Draco had to run to keep up with his long strides.

Oh, god. Harry was going to be expelled, he just knew it. And now, right after getting all the bruises and stuff healed, he was going to have to go back to the Dursleys. Draco also looked worried, but he'd only have to go back to people who sent him huge boxes of sweets; how hard would that be?

Still, he felt bad; if he hadn't challenged Draco over the Remembrall like that, neither of them would have been in the air. Neither of them would now be facing expulsion. As they tailed after Snape, Harry felt sick and couldn't get enough air. Maybe, if he ran now, he could get far enough away they wouldn't be able to find him to put him back on the train . . . Maybe he could hide in the Forest.