The Flying Lesson

Klaus was very pleased when the day of his first flying lesson arrived. Madam Hooch had played Beater for England, and for his birthday he had once been allowed to attend a World Cup match in which she had played. He had, of course, been supporting Germany, but he had still admired her skill, and the way she combined utter ruthlessness on the pitch with a scrupulous attention to the rules. Klaus hoped that under her tutelage, Quidditch at Hogwarts would be played properly.

He was a little annoyed but not especially surprised to see that they had their flying lessons with Slytherin; for whatever reason, they seemed to be paired up for many of their lessons. Dorian had by this time trained their classmates to leave an empty seat next to Klaus any time Dorian was expected.

Klaus had long since given up trying to understand why Dorian was so determined to believe that they were friends. In any other child, he would have suspected an ulterior motive, but Dorian was effortlessly popular, across all Houses and most years, with teachers and students alike; he was by all accounts fantastically rich, even for a Slytherin; he did well in his lessons when he could be persuaded to stop chattering and pay attention in class; and, while it was true that his Muggle father might be a social liability in certain circles, said father was an earl, and despite Professor MacGonagall's words there were those in the wizarding world with a healthy respect for a title. But having established that Dorian was not seeking money, social advancement, or academic assistance, the only remaining possibility was that Dorian was either trying to drive Klaus mad or had, inexplicably, actually meant his oft-repeated assertions that he and Klaus were friends. Klaus couldn't imagine why Dorian, who was as different from him as the night was the day, would possibly want to be his friend, but the English did have strange whims like that from time to time.

Klaus had even written his father for advice, feeling certain that Dorian was not the sort of boy a proper German wizard had as a friend, and had received a curt reply telling him not to be such a fool; however annoyingly flighty he was, the magical son of an English peer would almost certainly wind up attached to the British Ministry, someone whose friendship would bestow considerable diplomatic and political advantage; Klaus should cultivate him, if he could.

Klaus rebelled at the thought of deliberately encouraging Dorian, but he did concede so far as to stop being rude to him on purpose. It had never seemed to make him go away, anyhow, so there wasn't much point. He consoled himself by remembering that Dorian at least didn't demand much from his friends in the way of conversational participation; it was sufficient to let the tide of words wash over one and just nod or grunt occasionally to reassure Dorian that one was paying attention.

The Slytherins were already at the pitch when the Gryffindors arrived, but, true to form, made room for him when Dorian began waving him over.

"Klaus! It's flying lessons at last," he said, craning his neck to see the school brooms that a few older students were helping Madam Hooch take out of the broom shed. "Is it fun to fly? Do you like it?"

Klaus thought of his previous flying lessons, hovering a few feet from the ground on a children's broom, flying sedately through the garden with his tutor.

"It is excellent exercise," he said. "And a good way to take the air."

"Exercise?" Dorian wrinkled his nose.

"It improves your posture and balance," Klaus explained. "And you hold on with your legs, so it helps make you stronger."

"It sounds a bit like riding," Dorian said. "Horses, I mean."

Klaus frowned. "I wouldn't know," he said, feeling a little embarrassed, and then angry with himself; what would he need with such a Muggle skill? His father kept Abraxians, but Klaus was not permitted to ride them.

"I ride all the time at home," Dorian said. "It's splendid fun. You'll have to come home with me at the hols and try it."

Klaus felt rather horrified at the thought of spending a holiday with Dorian in Muggle Kent, but before he could say anything, Dorian had moved on.

"Bonham lent me a book about Quidditch," he said. "With pictures that move! It's a brilliant book. He says the House teams will start playing next month."

"The second Saturday," Klaus said instantly. "Gryffindor and Ravenclaw."

"Are you going to be on a House team? I bet you're brilliant at Quidditch," Dorian said.

Klaus had opened his mouth to explain that first years did not play on House teams when Madam Hooch's voice rang over the pitch. "All right, class, gather round," she said. "Find a broom to stand beside but don't touch it!" Several children, Dorian included, snatched back guilty hands, and she continued. "There will be no funny business during this class. These brooms are not toys and do not have the safety charms you may be accustomed to. Any student who disregards my instruction will leave class for the day. Any student who continually disobeys will be removed from class and will spend this period in remedial study under the supervision of Professor Marvellin, and since this would take away her free period I would suggest you not make this necessary."

Klaus nodded, pleased. Professor Marvellin taught Arithmancy and had a widespread reputation as the strictest teacher in the school. The fear of having to spend hours a week with her instead of flying should be enough to keep the class relatively orderly.

Madam Hooch strode to the end of the pitch, looking down the double line of students. "Right," she said. "Listen closely. A broom is a magical tool that you control with a combination of your body movements and your magic. You provide the magical power that allows the broom to move and fly, and you interact magically with the charms on the broom in order to control its speed. However, it is your physical movement that provides steering and fine control. You must master both to be a good flyer." She surveyed the class. "Now hold out your hand and call your broom to you, like this: 'Up!'"

She demonstrated, the broom bounding into her hand with a solid thump, and started to make her way along the lines of students, helping those who were having trouble connecting to their brooms.

Dorian was so excited when his broom came to his hand that he put it back on the ground and called it again.

"You should calm down," Klaus told him, holding his own broom steadily. "If you try to fly when you're over-excited the broom might run away with you."

Dorian looked pleased. "It is like riding, then," he said, and stood more quietly, petting the handle of his broom with his other hand.

Klaus thought about telling him that the brooms weren't alive, just attuned to the magic of their riders, but decided it was probably just as well for Dorian to try to be quiet.

Apparently brooms were more like horses than Klaus had thought, because Dorian, despite his obvious excitement, managed to complete the lesson without once falling off or being run away with. Klaus himself had felt a great deal of quiet satisfaction when Madam Hooch had finally let them all fly slow circuits around the pitch, a good ten feet off the ground. Next time, she promised, they would be working on stops and starts, and if there was no trouble, they would be allowed to have races.

"Our team will win the races," Dorian said happily, as they walked back to the castle afterward, trailed as usual by a scattering of Dorian's housemates.

"We will probably be put on teams based on our House," Klaus said.

"I don't see why they do that so much. We live in our Houses and take all our classes together. Why should we have to do everything else with them too? It's hard to find time to talk to your friends in other places."

Klaus snorted. "You will always find a way to talk to anyone you want to."

"Yes," said Dorian, "but some people are shy." He was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps I should talk to the Headmaster."

"You shouldn't bother the Headmaster," Klaus said. "He doesn't have time to worry about your social calendar."

"He always talks about cooperation between the Houses," Dorian said. "How are we supposed to cooperate when we never see each other?"

Klaus thought about that. "I do not know," he admitted grudgingly. "Perhaps when we are older and take more elective classes, we will have more opportunities to work with students from other Houses."

"I think it's silly to wait," said Dorian. "By then everyone will be in the habit of just doing things with the same people all the time."

"Like you do with me and Bonham?" Klaus asked pointedly.

"Well, yes, but I picked you to be my habit," Dorian said with a laugh. "And I've friends in my own house too, of course." He turned and smiled radiantly at the little group of Slytherins. "I never said you shouldn't, just that we should be able to pick from all the houses to get our friends, not have them picked for us by singing hat."

"That hat is an historic magical artifact," Klaus said, though he did have some doubts about the Sorting Hat. Cultural heritages were often rather peculiar, but should be paid the proper respect nonetheless.

"I never said it wasn't," said Dorian. "But things aren't always right just because they're old."

Klaus sighed. "I suppose you will do as you please, without listening to anyone," he said, "as you always do."

"I do listen," Dorian protested. "I just don't always agree. But I promise not to say anything disrespectful to the Headmaster about the Hat, all right?" and he looked so sincere that Klaus grudgingly agreed.

It came as no great surprise when the Headmaster announced, a week later, that in the interest of promoting inter-House cooperation and friendships, all students would henceforth be permitted to sit at any House table they pleased during lunch.