After a few weeks, we were gonna learn how to fly. Using brooms. Cus that's very cool, definitely. Not
Anyways, the Professor told us to bring our hands out and say. "Up!"
I did it and my broom flew up. It hit my hand and I grabbed it tightly. It kept going and I flew. I tried pulling it back, but it wouldn't obey. So I pulled myself up and stood on it. Then I jumped on it and it slowly lowered. I kept jumping while on top of it and it lowered with each impact.
When I got about 4 feet near the ground, it just fell, and I with it.
Then I was knocked out cold, I'm just kidding. Instead, I felt the the sharp pain of my body hitting the grassy ground. I got up and the Professor scolded me for how stupid I was for jumping on an broom. She was not wrong.
Then, a kid whose name is Drako, wait... I think it's Drak-O. No. It's something like, Drago. Ya know what, Imma just call him by his last name, Malfoy.
So Malfoy (who is basically Harry's most hated person besides the evil wizard who murdered his parents) stole Neville's (who is a chubby boy, whose incredibly nice for a person who is constantly bullied) glass ball that reminds him of stuff. I'd remember what it was called if it weren't for the fact that I don't listen to people I don't know that well while eating.
Malfoy flies up and Harry goes up to confront him. While I do absolutely nothing. Malfoy chucks the ball and Harry caught it. Like a champ.
Later in the school year, Harry participated in a quidditch match. I don't know how, since he's too young to play, but I'm far too uncaring to find out.