Taming the True Fire (HP)

Two weeks later, towards the end of October, the Gryffindors were finally scheduled for their first flying lesson. This cheered up Catherine, who had been longing for the crisp, cold air and the sensation of the wind in her hair. Apart from needing to pretend she hadn't touched a broom before, she was looking forward to spending some time flying.

The weather was perfect—sunny and clear. Although the autumn chill was already noticeable, it didn't deter the excited group of first-years gathered at the Quidditch Pitch. Soon, the Slytherins joined them, urged by Madame Hooch to take their places beside the brooms neatly arranged in two rows. 

"Now, students," – shouted the flying instructor – "some of you might be familiar with the process, but nonetheless, all of you, extend your right hand over the broomstick and shout 'Up!' loud and clear!"

Despite the booming choir of voices roaring 'Up!' simultaneously, only a few brooms actually flew into their masters' hands. Catherine's was one of those, but she noticed that Snape, who was standing across from her, wasn't having any success. She smirked as she mounted her broom and casually quipped:

"You know, I've heard that brooms are like horses, they can sense if you're afraid of them."

"Go to hell!" – said Snape angrily as he struggled to mount his broomstick, which was shaking dangerously.

"Even if I do," - she replied sarcastically - "it won't help you get your ass on the broom."

Snape's face turned red from the effort to stay on the bucking broomstick. He had truly not been looking forward to the flying lessons. He despised the feeling of not having control over his environment, and mounting a magical flying device felt precisely like that kind of situation. He didn't want to admit it, but perhaps there was some truth in what that disgusting Plantier girl had said. The broom kept throwing him off, and the laughter around him grew louder.

Suddenly, the broom tossed him again, and he painfully crashed face-first onto the ground. Snape lifted his head and saw Catherine right in front of him, laughing, her green eyes filled with thinly veiled superiority. That was the last straw. Snape reached for his wand, concealed beneath his robes.

"Flipendo!" – he shouted, knocking the witch from her broomstick, and sending her tumbling a few metres before she fell heavily onto the grass.

"Catherine!" – cried James, who was the closest, as he rushed to help his classmate, who barely managed to stand up. 

A surge of magic emanated from the girl toward the Slytherin boy, causing screams to erupt throughout the Quidditch Pitch.

***

That evening, Catherine sat at dinner with a grim expression. In his attempts to cheer her up, Sirius managed to dye Peter Pettigrew's eyebrows a vivid shade of purple. 

"Come on, it's not that bad!" – said James – "I mean, you lost 25 points, but Snape lost some too, so in the end, it's not that big of a deal."

"Is it true that you set Severus Snape's broom on fire?"- a voice from above their heads asked. Catherine looked up and saw Greg, looking down at her with clear disapproval. 

"And his robes too!" – added Sirius, grinning – "It was a magnificent scene. She is quite something, our Catherine!"

"Do you think this is a proper way to behave?" – Greg said, completely disregarding Sirius. 

"I was already punished." – answered the young witch grumpily. 

"Jeez, descend from your high hippogriff, Greg McMahon!" – intervened James – "This has nothing to do with you. Or are you now some kind of a mediator and defending Snape? He hexed her pretty hard, you know? She had to go to Madam Pomfrey to fix her wrist."

Greg's ocean blue eyes widened with horror. He rushed towards his sister and grabbed her hand.

"Why didn't you tell me? Are you alright, Flame?"

"Not if you continue squeezing me." – said the witch – "What's gotten into you, McMahon?"

Greg finally regained his composure, released Catherine's hand, and cleared his throat, looking at the boys who were staring at him. 

"I got a little carried away. It's really disturbing to think a fellow classmate could be hurt, especially one of our first-years. My apologies. Please continue your dinner." – he said and left in a hurry.

"What's wrong with him?" – asked James confused.

"Maybe he's fallen for you?"- Sirius suggested, glancing at Catherine, whose face was now turned as red as a beetroot. 

"Nonsense!" – she mumbled. 

"Why did he call you Flame?" – inquired Remus who had remained quiet during the whole exchange. 

"Who knows," – the witch replied hastily – "he probably blurted out some jabber due to nervousness."

"I like it, though," – James laughed – "it suits you!"

"We should totally call you Flame from now on!" – Sirius chimed in.

"Please don't!" – moaned Catherine – "Remus, a little help?"

"I like it too." – Remus smiled.

"It's decided then, Flame!" – Sirius happily declared. 

"Suits her fine indeed." – they heard from behind their backs where Snape stood accompanied by Tarquin Avery, Ethan Wilkies and Cassius Mulciber, all of them smirking and sneering. 

"What's with the traffic around the table this evening?" – Catherine said, desperately craving the silence of her dormitory. 

"No worries, Flame, we're going to show them out." – said Sirius, looking at the Slytherins with disgust. 

"We're not going to stay for long anyway." - Snape remarked sarcastically, glancing at his classmates - "The smell of a Mudblood is way too strong here. I can teach you how to brew perfume potions if you ask nicely, Lame."

Slytherins burst into laughter, elbowing each other. James, Sirius, and Remus stood up and tried to shield Catherine. However, she pushed them aside and took a few steps towards Snape. The witch fearlessly locked eyes with him and grinned widely. 

"This is a very kind offer, but I believe no matter how much perfume potion I use, my smell would never evade that enormous nose of yours. Ain't that right, Snivellus?"