Thick of it : reboot

That afternoon, the Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years gathered on the training field just outside the castle, the vast open sky stretching above them. The brooms laid out beside each student . The Slytherins stood with their usual smug expressions, eyeing the Gryffindors as if they already expected superiority in flying.

Madam Hooch marched down the line, her hawk-like yellow eyes scanning the students with the sharpness of a falcon sizing up its next meal. Her short, wiry hair gave her an air of strict efficiency, like someone who wouldn't tolerate a single ounce of nonsense.

"Good afternoon, class," she greeted in her clipped tone.

"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch," the class chorused back, some voices more enthusiastic than others.

"Welcome to your first flying lesson," Hooch continued, planting her hands on her hips. "Well? What are you waiting for? Everyone step up to the left side of your broomstick. Come on, hurry up! Stick your right hand over the broom and say, 'Up!'"

"Up!" the class echoed in various degrees of success.

James barely had time to think before his broom shot straight into his hand, as if it had been waiting for him. Harry's did the same, almost effortlessly. James looked over at him and smirked.

Hermione, meanwhile, was staring at them both, her brow furrowed in deep thought. "How did you two do that so quickly?" she muttered, frustration creeping into her voice.

James chuckled. "Imagine catching it, Hermione. Like it's already yours, and you're just reaching for it."

Draco Malfoy's broom leapt into his grasp as well, and he shot a smug grin at the others. "Naturally," he drawled.

Ron, however, was having a less fortunate experience. "Up! … Up!" His broom twitched on the ground but refused to budge.

"With feeling, Weasley!" Madam Hooch snapped.

Ron tried again. This time, his broom did respond—by shooting up and smacking him square on the nose. "Oof!"

Harry let out a laugh, quickly stifling it as Ron glared at him. But after a moment, even Ron couldn't help but chuckle. "Shut up, Harry," he grumbled, rubbing his nose.

Madam Hooch sighed. "Now, once you've got hold of your broom, mount it. Grip it tight—you don't want to be sliding off the end."

James swung a leg over his broom, feeling an odd thrill run through him. This was it—proper flying. Not just imagining it but actually doing it.

"When I blow my whistle, kick off the ground—hard," Hooch continued. "Hover for a moment, keep your broom steady, then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle. Three… two…"

She blew the whistle, and—

Neville Longbottom's broom immediately went rogue.

"Whoa—" Neville barely had time to panic before he was yanked off the ground, soaring upwards like an out-of-control firework.

"Mr. Longbottom!" Hooch barked, alarmed.

"Neville, what are you doing?!" a girl shrieked.

Neville's broom wasn't listening to him. It shot higher and higher, his panicked cries echoing through the courtyard.

"Down! Down!" Neville yelled, gripping the broomstick for dear life. Instead, it rocketed towards the castle walls. He slammed into them with an audible thud, bouncing off like a pinball before looping wildly back toward the group.

Hooch held up her wand, clearly intending to stop him—only to dive out of the way at the last second as Neville zoomed right through the students, scattering them like startled pigeons.

James watched the chaos unfold, unimpressed. Why didn't she just use Arresto Momentum? he thought. Is this level of injury normal in Quidditch, or is she just incompetent?

Neville's wild ride finally came to an end when his robe snagged on a stone statue. He dangled there for a moment, flailing helplessly. "Help!"

Then, with a nasty rip, the fabric gave way.

"Ahhh!"

With a heavy thud, Neville crashed onto the ground.

The class winced.

"Oof, that's gonna leave a mark," James muttered.

Hooch rushed to Neville's side, checking him over. "Oh dear, a broken wrist. Tch, tch, tch. Poor boy. Come along now, up you get." She helped him to his feet, guiding him away. "Everyone keep your feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand? If I see one broom in the air, the person riding it will be out of Hogwarts before they can say 'Quidditch'!"

As she disappeared with Neville, a chuckle broke through the silence.

Draco Malfoy.

"Did you see his face?" Malfoy sneered, twirling Neville's fallen Remembrall between his fingers. "Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat arse!"

His cronies burst into laughter.

James raised an eyebrow. "Did your father not buy you enough toys, Malfoy? Or you just acting out for attention?"

The class erupted into snickers. Malfoy shot James a withering glare.

Harry, meanwhile, stepped forward. "Give it here, Malfoy."

Malfoy smirked. "No. I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find." He casually swung a leg over his broom and took off, soaring effortlessly above them. "How about on the roof?"

James watched, amused, as Harry bristled.

"You're not seriously—" Hermione started, but it was too late.

Harry grabbed his broom and mounted it.

"Harry, no way!" Hermione hissed. "You heard what Madam Hooch said! Besides, you don't even know how to fly!"

Harry ignored her, kicking off.

Hermione groaned. "What an idiot."

James hesitated. Should he follow? To do or not to do…?

But something in him held him back.

Malfoy, now hovering in the air, grinned down at Harry. "What's the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?"

Harry didn't bother answering. He shot forward, making a grab for the Remembrall. Malfoy, however, easily dodged him, twirling his broom with a smirk. "Have it your way, then."

With that, he hurled the Remembrall high into the air.

Harry reacted instantly. He dived.

The class gasped as he sped toward the ground, arms outstretched.

"Oh, Merlin—" someone whispered.

Ron watched, heart pounding slightly. He's actually going to do it…

Just as Harry was about to crash into a tower window—where Professor McGonagall happened to be working—he snatched the Remembrall mid-air.

McGonagall's head snapped up.

There was a brief silence before the entire class erupted into cheers.

"Wicked, Harry!"

"That was amazing!"

But then—

"Harry Potter!"

McGonagall had appeared on the field.

Harry's triumphant expression vanished.

James muttering ." no let harry have his adventure and i would mine ."

"Follow me," she commanded.

Harry gulped, glancing at James. James merely shrugged.

As Harry trudged off, Draco snickered gleefully.

Hermione turned to James, arms crossed. "You should have stopped him! Now look—he's in trouble!"

James glanced at her, then at the sky. "Hermione, listen carefully," he said in a calm, knowing tone. "We shouldn't scrutinise every moment of our lives. Live the life."

Hermione huffed. "But he broke the rules!"

James smirked. "You'll understand someday, Hermione."