Hermione was still upset that I forgot our plans together and refused to speak with me, so I have been spending loads of time with Harry and Ron. I have tried to reach out to Hermione and invite her to spend time with us, but, she always refused.

Today was the day that our Flying Class would be posted on the bulletin. Harry groaned before moving to reveal the board to Ron and me. I read our class and saw that it was shared with Slytherin.

"Typical," said Harry spat. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

I felt bad for Harry knowing how he has been looking forward to learning to fly.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. Although, it was apparent that it didn't help Harry feel any better.

I smack him on the head, glaring at him. He holds his head in confusion and anger. I smile at Harry, "I know Draco's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

I was honestly curious to see who really could fly a broomstick. All the boys were always bragging about how they were the best. Draco's stories would always end in him narrowly escaping some muggles on a helicopter. While Ron loved to talk about how he almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom (which wasn't exactly how I remember it). Even Seamus went on about how he spent most of his time riding his broomstick in the countryside.

It was times like these that I really wish Hermione would speak to me. I missed talking to girls about girly things. Ron and Harry would never talk about clothes with me, they would always bring it back to who's jersey was the best.

Today Hermione was lecturing us all about what she had read about flying, making sure to ignore my presence.

Everyone else seemed bored by the tips that she was giving out and was eager when they noticed that mail had arrived.

Hedwig had come to drop off a letter for me. I felt bad knowing that Harry may have gotten a bit excited believing that he received mail. I opened the latter to see it was a response from mum about my last letter, telling her about last week.

Draco made sure to brag about all the candies his parents had sent him. Neville had also received a package from his grandmother, a remembrall.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained to Harry. "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 was glowing scarlet red, ". . . you've forgotten something . . ."

Poor Neville was trying to remember what he had forgotten when Draco snatched the ball out of his hands with an evil glint in his eye.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, ready to take it back, but Professor McGonagall saw the incident.

"What's going on?" McGonagall asked me, knowing that I wouldn't lie to her.

"Draco's stole Neville's Remembrall, Professor, and then he taunted him," I tell her, staring innocently at my favorite teacher. McGonagall sharply raised her brow at Draco.

Scowling at me, Draco quickly put the Remembrall back on the table. "Just looking," he said, and briskly walked back to his table.

At three-thirty sharp, we all rushed down the stairs to the grounds for our first flying course. It was a beautiful day to fly. The sky was clear, and there was a slight cooling breeze. I took a mental note to thank mom, knowing she most likely had a hand in this.

The Slytherins were there before us and were already standing before the broomsticks on the grass. I remember Fred and George complaining about how the school's broomsticks were not the best.

When our teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived, we were all practically jumping out of our shoes in joy. She had gray hair cut in a pixie-like style and yellow eyes like a hawk.

I had never met her before since she wasn't as close to Dumbledore as my other teachers. She seemed to be very tough, however, since she immediately began screaming at us.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

I ran to the first broomstick I saw and stood at attention, not wanting to get on her bad side. The broom was old and dirty, but, the others seemed to be in the same condition.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" I shouted at the broom, not really wanting to fly on a broom. It looked quite uncomfortable. Nothing happened, and I tried to shout again but still no change. I was about to complain that mine was broken, but when I looked up nobody's broom had gotten their brooms in the air except Harry and a few others after.

I leaned over and whispered to him, "How do you do it?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe a bit more confidence?"

I nod my head, muttering a small thanks before trying again. This time it slightly rose off the ground. I did this three more times, and by the third time, it was still not in my hands. I was about to give up, but Harry walked over and helped me.

After everyone had successfully summoned the broom to their hands, we learned how to mount the broom correctly. Hermione seemed to be struggling, but when I offered to help her, she said, "I've got it."

"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 —"

I was determined to do this correctly. I already know that I by no means like flying on a broomstick, but that doesn't mean I won't learn how. Especially, since Draco has been so arrogant about girls being worse at flying.

Before the whistle could sound, however, Neville had already risen from the ground.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted, but Neville was rising straight up into the sky— twelve feet — twenty feet. Every foot Neville gained he appeared to be getting greener and greener. When Neville looked down, he tilted his broom to the side, and before anybody could stop it, he fell straight to the ground.

WHAM! We all heard a crack before Neville began screaming in agony. His broomstick was still flying higher and higher until it drifted out into the forbidden forest.

Madam Hooch looked worried sick, as she ran to Neville. "Broken wrist," she muttered before picking him up. "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."

Neville hobbled off with Madam Hooch, tears streaming down his face.

I frown, "Poor Neville's always getting hurt," i whisper to Hermione, who ignores me as expected.

As soon as Neville and Madam Hooch leave, Draco bursts into a fit of laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins laughed along with him.

"Shut up, Draco," I glare at him.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Ambrosio."

"I wouldn't be talking about anybody's looks if I were you, Pansy," I spit at her with a fake smile. She immediately recoils.

"Look!" Draco ran to the spot Neville fell and picked up Neville's Remembrall. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said. Everyone has now huddled around the two to see what will happen.

Draco smirked playing with the tiny ball in his hands, "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, moving towards Draco.

Draco quickly leaped onto his broomstick and took off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom, prepared to do just that.

"No!" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move — you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry ignored her, already deciding he was going to get Neville's Remembrall back. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground, and he flew, just as skilled at Draco to the oak tree. I watched in amazement, he looked just like his father. I don't watch quidditch much but, I do know enough about the Potter family who was close to my Dumbledore, to know that James Potter was an amazing Chaser. Dumbledore had even shown me a few photos.

We were all cheering for Harry as he skillfully flew. Draco even looked amazed.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" Draco yelled, trying to seem confident but failing.

Harry zoomed to Draco, who only narrowly missed his attack. Harry made a sharp turn and faced Draco.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry mocked.

"Catch it if you can, then!" Draco shouted, before throwing the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

We were all gripping onto our brooms, curious to see if Harry would catch it. He dived to the ball with precision and accuracy, stretching his hand out to grab it. Barely hitting the ground, Harry grabbed the ball and flew upwards before landing gracefully, with the Remembrall in his hands.

We were all clapping in amusement at his skill, running up to congratulate Harry, when we were cut off my nonother than Professor McGonagall.

"HARRY POTTER!" she stalked closer to him "Never — in all my time at Hogwarts —"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless, and her glasses flashed furiously, "— how dare you — might have broken your neck —"

"It wasn't his fault," I pipe in.

"Be quiet, Miss Ambrosio—"

"But Draco —," I interjected, trying to save my friend.

"That's enough, Miss Ambrosio. Potter, follow me now."

We all jump at her harsh tone and feebly watch as she took Harry away.

We were quiet for the rest of the class silently waiting for Harry or Madame Hooch to return. Crabe and his gang kept chucking at Harry getting caught, but we ignored their stupidity.

↤|🌊|↦

At dinner, Harry was telling Ron and me all about what happened once he left. Apparently, he was going to be the new Seeker for the Gryffindor house. Ron and I were both shocked.

Ron was speaking with a piece of steak and kidney pie in his mouth, "Seeker?" he guffawed. "But first years never — you must be the youngest House player in about —"

"— a century," Harry answered before taking a bit of his kidney pie. "Wood told me."

Ron and I were both very impressed. Although I can't say I am shocked, he takes after his father.

"I start training next week," Harry smiled. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George Weasley popped up, right after, "Well done," said George in a low voice taking a seat on my right side. "Wood told us. We're on the team, too — Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year," said Fred who sat on my left. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us. Pass the yams, Collie."

I roll my eyes at the annoying duo and pass the yams to Fred, who scooped some on his plate, before passing them over to George.

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school," Fred said, quickly scooping his yams into his mouth.

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you." George brags, finishing up his own plate.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?" Draco's nasally voice spoke from behind me.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. I smile at Harry's comment, knowing that Draco was nothing without little Crabbe and Goyle around.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," Draco boasted "Tonight if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only — no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizards duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," Ron said, turning around to meet Draco's face. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle, before, deciding, "Crabbe," he said. "Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

Draco left as quickly as he had come. I immediately hit Ron on the head.

"Ow!"

"What is a wizard's duel?" asked Harry. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, taking a bit of the pie.

I hit Ron again, harder this time.

He looked at me ready to say something but noticed Harry's face, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry worries.

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

"Don't do it, Harry," I warn him, "There are no benefits to this stupid duel. We will only get in trouble."

"Excuse me," Hermione pipes up. I spin around to see her standing next to Harry.

I smile, "Hey, Hermione, want to eat with us?"

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" muttered Ron before quickly cowering, knowing I was going to hit him.

Hermione ignored both of us and spoke to Harry. "I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying —"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered. This time I kicked him.

"— and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

I nod, agreeing with Hermione. Although the boys don't seem to care.

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Good-bye," said Ron. I rolled my eyes and left the table, not being able to sit with the boys today.

Their rudeness was beyond annoying, and so was their stupidity about this duel. I walked up to the girl's dormitory, wanting nothing more than sleep.

Unfortunately, that was the last thing I got. I stayed up all night, playing with Bluebelle, and worrying about what the boys were doing. When it was time for them to leave, I ran downstairs to catch them, deciding I would never forgive myself if they got in trouble and I didn't take part to stop them.

I was careful not to trip on my hair since it was so dark and I could barely see it. I hear Bluebelle meow as she watched me pass her.

When I reached them, I noticed that Hermione was already there trying to stop them. They were apparently arguing.

I walked up to them. Ron noticed me with a groan, "You, too!" Ron said, furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione whispered, "Percy — he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"Come on," he said to Ron, ignoring both of us. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

I was not going to let them get in trouble. I decided to go with them. Hermione, following close behind, with bossy commentary. "Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away." Ron cried, but she persisted.

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so —"

When Hermione turned to go back, the Lady in the painting was gone, meaning Hermione and I couldn't leave if we wanted to.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked us.

"That's your problem," Ron shrugged. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

"Oh, no, you don't. We're coming with you," I tell Ron, running to catch up.

"You are not."

"D'you think we're going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us, I'll tell him the truth that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up." Hermione smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You've got some nerve —" said Ron loudly, making his voice echo through the empty halls.

"Shut up, both of you!" said Harry sharply in a hushed tone.

"I heard something."

"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, ready to make a run for it.

I looked at the source of the noise and found a dark figure balled up in the corner, "Neville?"

The figure jumped awake and looked up at me, shaking, "Thank goodness, you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get into bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere.", Hermione told him, before helping him up.

"How's your arm?" I asked.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good — well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later —"

I look at Harry in shock. I quickly hit him on the head. He looked at me in shock before turning to Ron, "She hurts!"

Ron nods solemnly, rubbing his own head with a frown, "I know."

I roll my eyes at the two fools, I have to be friends with.

"Don't leave me!" Neville cried, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione, Neville, and I. "If either of you gets us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies, Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, most likely to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned us all to follow him.

We tiptoed along corridors illuminated by the moonlight from the high windows. We all were carefully looking for Filch or Mrs. Norris to jump out at us. We sped up a staircase to the third floor and silently ran toward the trophy room.

The room was empty when we entered, only containing the sparkling trophy cases filled with cups, shields, plates, and statues colored silver or gold. They sat along the walls.

Harry took out his wand out, probably worried that Draco might plan a surprise attack.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered. I shake my head Draco wouldn't chicken out, he would have to beat Harry in some way. So if he wasn't here and we were that means that he planned for us to be alone. So we would get caught.

"It's a trap," I sharply whisper to them. They all look at me with wide eyes.

Then a noise in the next room made me jump. "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." Filch.

We all scurried towards the door. My socks making the floor slippery, and almost causing me to fall if it weren't for Hermione catching me and pulling me out the room just as Filch entered.

"They're in here somewhere," I heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others, pointing to a large gallery full of suits of armor. We all began to creep away when Neville got scared upon hearing Filch's voice, causing him to run into Ron who fell into a suit of armor.

The loud clanging was loud enough to wake the entire floor, and we all made a run for it. Harry, being the fastest darted into the Charms classroom with all of us, hot on his tail.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead, once we all made it in. A petrified Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

"I — told — you," Hermione gasped, clutching at her chest, "I — told — you."

I nod my head in agreement, not able to speak.

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower," Ron told us as if we didn't already know, "quickly as possible."

"How did you know Malfoy tricked Harry?" Hermione asked me.

I catch my breath before speaking, "He was never going to meet them — Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room because Draco must have tipped him off. Draco is too much of a coward to participate in a duel or risk getting caught."

Harry didn't seem to like my answer. "Let's go."

Of course, getting back was not going to be as simple. Once we began the leave, Peeves ghosted in the room with a masochistic smile giving a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves — please — you'll get us thrown out," Ron begged.

Peeves cackled, "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Oh look," I roll my eyes, "It rhymes."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please," Harry begs, sending me a glare.

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a sane voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," whispered Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves — this was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

We all ran for our lives, going around Peeves.

"This is it!" Ron wailed as we tried to open the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

I could hear footsteps, Fitch was getting closer no doubt with the help of Peeves.

"Oh, move over," Hermione grumbled. She grabbed Harry's wand and, tapped the lock, "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked, and the door swung open, we all ran to enter before slamming the door shut.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch sneered in joy. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please.'"

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please,"

"All right — please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!"

I hear Filch using some colorful words, and I knew that Peeves had disappeared.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered to us. "I think we'll be okay — get off, Neville!"

Neville was practically sitting on top of Harry in fear, "What?"

I turned around to see what room we had entered and was horrified. We hadn't entered a room at all but a corridor. Not just any corridor either, we had entered the one corridor we were forbidden to go in.

Now I understood why Dumbledore was so adamant about us entering. Because right now, I was looking straight into the eyes of a three-headed dog, otherwise known as Cerberus. Its saliva was hanging from its mouths like long ropes, and it's yellow fangs were anything but nice.

I turned to tell the others, but they quickly saw the dog, when its monstrous growls began to shake the floor. We all ran back to the door, scrambling on top of each other, deciding that Filch was much better than death.

Harry opened the door, and we all fell through, trying to get out. Harry slammed the door shut before we all flew down the corridor back to the portrait of the Fat Lady. I didn't even care if Filch saw us, he was not half as scary as the huge dog that was about to eat us.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked us once we made it, looking at our bathrobes hanging off our shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

We try to respond but can't find the breath to do so. Harry barely manages to pant, "Pig snout, pig snout."

The portrait swung open, and we all collapsed inside, trembling in exhaustion and fear.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" Ron finally said. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

I laugh, finally letting go of some of the stress I had received on our midnight adventure. I lightly kicked Ron with my foot, "Were you crying?"

Ron looked at me, embarrassed before hiding his blush, "You wish. Like I would cry."

Harry, Ron, and I all begin to laugh, letting the high from out escapade wash away.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hermione snapped at us, bringing back the tense atmosphere. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. Ron and I begin to laugh again. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up, glaring at us. I furrowed my eyebrows trying to remember a trapdoor. What could it be hiding? And why is Dumbledore so adamant about us not knowing what it is?

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed — or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

"She needs to sort out her priorities," I ask her in humorous disbelief while Ron says, "No, we don't mind," before turning to Harry. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

I giggle at him, choosing to make light of the situation and worry about what the dog was guarding tomorrow morning.