Brand New Flyer

[fatherg]

Arthur had bought his broom in Diagon Alley, from a stranger, a rather suspicious looking stranger, but the broom was cheap so he didn't make any complaints. The man had enticed him him to look at his wares, all good and at a low, wonderful price. Arthur couldn't argue and bought himself a Silver Arrow. Arthur walked on to the pitch; the dew on the morning grass stuck to his shoes; the early morning air was cool, not too hot or cold; the smell was a wonderful and intoxicating, but all too familiar scent to most people. Arthur looked through his glasses as he reached the Quidditch pitch and held his broom close to him, tightly, looking around, as if he was holding a Firebolt. He kept looking around, expecting for people to just apparate in front of him and take his broom.

He stepped onto the Quidditch pitch and stood there a moment, not sure if he was to enjoy the loneliness and quietness. He could see the seats filled with students and teachers, screaming and cheering. He could see the fifteen players on the brooms flying above him. The Keepers at the goals, blocking each quaffel being thrown at them, the Beaters beating the bludgers in the direction of opponent players, the Seeker's flying around and their eyes squinted looking for the Snitch, the Chasers fighting for the quaffel to score against their opponents, and the game Referree, keeping an eye out for any illegal acts.

Arthur looked up and stared at the few rays of the sun breaking out behind the clouds, the sun seemed to be just waking up too and getting up out of it's bed of clouds. Arthur mounted his broom, making sure he wasn't going to have any second thoughts and if he was to get in trouble, trying to think of a good excuse. I need to calm down when it comes to breaking rules, I freak out too much over everything, especially the small things... Arthur said mentally as he kicked off. He had some trouble at first, but the broom slowly went up and he flew around the inside of the pitch. The ride was graceful and enjoyable. Until Arthur was heading for one of the goals. He aimed down and the ground so he wouldn't hit it. But when sitting on a pole, facing down, at a ninety degree angle, is not good. He slid off his broom and fell the last three or four yards and hit the sat below the goals. Arthur laid there for a moment before standing up and catching his broom, barely, as it came down. He wiped sand from his mouth, hair, and clothes, he was going to give it another go.

[Prof Brianna O'Donnell]

Brianna strolled onto the pitch. She always started her day with a morning fly around the pitch: it got her blood pumping and wakes her up. She flung her Moontimer between her legs a few feet onto the pitch and kicked off. It was then that she noticed a ravenclaw boy flying near the opposite goal hoops.

She began to circle high above him, watching as he began to plummet and as he sunk to the ground. She slowly circled to the ground and landed lightly a few feet away from him. "You might want to hold on a bit tighter to the handle," she said, demonstrating with her own broom, "one hand and then the other. Firm but not too tight." She smiled encouragingly at the small boy.

[fatherg]

Arthur froze at the voice of a stranger, and particularly an adult. He turned around slowly and looked at Professor Brianna and just stood there and watched her. His head slightly nodded and finally he spoke, "Y-y-yes ma'am-m" Arthur said as he remounted his brother and gripped the handle tightly. I-I-I-I-I am Ar-Arthur Aend-dole." Arthur could be very nervous and very shy, but when he wanted to be, a very out-going person. Arthur kicked off and slowly lifted himself off the ground. So far, he was doing good. He was about twenty yards off the ground and began to fly straight, come to think of it, that was all he could do just about, he then slowly leaned into the broom on the side and it turned with him. Arthur had the broom moving at a very slow speed, but really didn't care. There was a gentle breeze to give him the feeling that he topped the broom out at it's max speed, seventy-five miles an hour. Amazing how the brain work when reacting to certain things.

[Prof Brianna O'Donnell]

Bree noticed how nervous the boy, who introduced himself as Arthur, was. "Well, Ar-Arthur," she teased, "go on!" As he mounted his broom, Bree did the same but she stayed on the ground as he flew off. She was watching him closely as he flew up and then straight. He has good form, but his uncertainty is holding him back.

She kicked off the ground hard and quickly gained on the ravenclaw. She slowed down to fly next to him, which irritated her slightly because he was going so slowly but her patient nature held her in place. "Very good," she said, pleased, "five points to Ravenclaw. Now shall we try a little faster?" she asked this sincerely, if he didn't feel comfortable going any faster, she would understand.

[fatherg]

Arthur looked at the teacher with shock and absolute glee. He had gotten his house five points! Arthur's heart nearly beat out of his chest. Arthur then looked back at the teacher, he caught most of the question. "Sir?" he asked the professor, then it hit him what the professor was asking. If he wanted to go fast. "Professor, how do I go real fast? I have no clue what I did earlier" Arthur said looking down at his broom, expecting it to say, 'you want me to speed up? Okay! I can do that easily!'

[Prof Brianna O'Donnell]

Bree smiled at the small anxious boy. "We'll get to the going really fast bit soon enough," Bree said, extending a long slender arm and grasping the front of the boy's broom. She brought him to a halt and smiled at him. "You are now, what we call, hovering," she said, knowing he should know this.

"If you hug your broom closer to your chest, you can go faster." She demonstrated by leaning close to the handle of her broom and speeding off. She flew in a circle and came to a halt next to Arthur. "And you slow down by either sitting up or pulling up on your broom, like you would on a horse." That gave him the basic go and stop principles but if he wanted to learn to go really fast he needed control.

"Turning is easy enough," she said, smiling at her broom as she waggled it from side to side, "you just pull it in the direction you want to go in. Going up means up lift it up but not back like you would to stop, and going down, you push it down but careful there too because it's all to easy to gain speed when flying down." She looked up at the boy and frowned quickly, a pinch of worry suddenly panging in her mind. "Oh dear," she said, "was that a bit fast? Or do you want to try it? Once around the outside of the pitch."