A tall, handsome Gryffindor walked out from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady. He was on his way to the broom shed to grab his broom, and then to the Quidditch Pitch to meet a first year he had ran into in the Gryffindor common room. His name was Noah, and Ryan had offered to give him a few pointers about flying. The Gryffinddor made his way out of Gryffindor Tower, down the Grand Staircase, and out onto the grounds. A slight breeze caused Ryan's robes to swish around behind him. The sun was still a ways above the horizon, and would allow plenty of light for the pair to fly around.

Ryan arrive at the broom shed, pulled out the Firebolt he had been given a few years ago, and continued to the Quidditch Pitch. Being on the Gryffindor house team, he made his way into the locker room. Pulling out his Quidditch robes, he threw them on with a whirl, and strutted out to the Pitch. Ryan kicked off hard from the ground, the wind in his face. The feeling was such a great one that Ryan could fly about for hours if he was allowed. With a few barrel rolls and flips, he returned to the ground. He laid down on his back and stared up at the clouds, waiting for Noah to show up.

"A tidy flight, tha' one!"

Noah was suddenly there, hovering beside the reclining boy, already in his new Quidditch robes, on his old Nimbus 2000. He kept both in the dormitory, and had skimmed over here, eager for the offered pointers, and had seen the Gryffindor seeker' practice...

He was a tiny boy, no more than four-foot, and thin and wiry, with black hair, and intense and sparkling black eyes, grinning from ear to ear under a big hawkish nose. His big owl glasses were already securely strapped around his head, and his whole body language cried 'ready!'.

But, he reined himself in, and slid off the broom to a cross-legged sit, his broom coming to rest beside him..He touched it, almost protectively...It was old, and dirty with age and hard use, but he loved it anyway. It had been all they could afford... It had been a gift from his father, who as a squib, could never fly...so, in a way, Noah flew for both of them.

"A must say" he spoke, still grinning, his soft Welsh burr evident in his excitement " tha's very good of you ta do this fer me - anything a can do back to ye, a will..."

Ryan smiled up at Noah as he came in on his broom. "Hey Noah. It's no problem doing this, I love flying so this gives me an excuse to be doing it." Ryan stopped for a second and looked down at the Nimbus 2000 the boy held in his hand. "Before we start, let me see your broom," Ryan grinned as he grabbed it from the boy in front of him. He got the broom to hover in front of them, about three feet in the air. Pulling out his wand, Ryan focused on the broom, "Incendio!" Flames leapt from the tip of Ryan's wand, and engulfed the broom.

Turning his eyes on Noah, he looked to see his reaction before muttering, "Extinguo Caminus!" A bluish smoke jumped from the wand, smothering the flames. The broom was charred from tip to tip. Ryan looked down with another wide grin, "Reparo!" He pointed his wand at the smoldering broom, and in seconds the broom was good as new, except for the layers of encrusted dirt and obvious age. Ryan loved showing off his magic, and with a simple "Man that's dirty," he looked down at the broom once again, "Scourgify!" Another spell jumped out of the wand and completely cleaned the broom to a near-new sparkle.

The old broom showed that Noah's family didn't have the money for anything else. The Nimbus 2000 was before the time of Ryan's own Firebolt, and the Firebolt was getting old. "Invictus!" he looked down at the broom. The Invictus spell had made the broom unbreakable, though it looked the same. "Now your broom can't break Noah," Ryan said with a grin, "okay, where should we start? You obviously know the basics, so let's see what you're made of. Virga Epistula!" Ribbons shot out of Ryan's wand this time, and with a few theatrical whirls, they wound up into the air and formed many different circles. The ribbon-circles were big enough to fly through. "Alright Noah, just fly through the rings as fast as you can. The first one's that one and the last ones over there." Ryan pointed up at two different rings. "Okay, mount your broom, and go!"

If Ryan was looking for a reaction, he got one, but maybe not he one he expected...Noah didn't look like a poor wee firstie whose toy was taken by a bully, but like someone whose family had been dishonored...

He lunged for the broom, but could not touch it, for the heat...but the flames could not touch the ones burning in his eyes.....

"Wha' a mwchyn, nasty prank to play on one o' yer own." He said, hands balled at his sides, trembling with anger. His voice was whisper-soft ...and dangerous. ".Quench it, or see what a true Cymry does to a bully..."

Before he could move, the broom was quenched...but too late...char from tip to bristle tip.

"Oh, da...your gift..." was all he could say...the sorrow and hate in him, so strong, that he couldn't figure for the life of him, whether the sorting hat had been wrong about Ryan or himself...

At Ryan's next words, his heart first leapt, then sank like stone...he suddenly realised what Ryan had been about, and how grieveous his mistake had been...

"Invictus!"

The last word made him step back in shock, his expression unreadable...he felt utterly unworthy of the gift given, could not even take the lovely thing back, though his longing ached him something fierce...and shook his head when Ryan pointed out the rings.

"Nah then...not til a've apologised...to misjudge so, is worse than bullying...it takes a man's good name, and all his honor......"

But Ryan was looking at him so encouragingly, as if he had expected something...had been taking his measure, like the Headmistress had, at his sorting...

"But, the measure of a man is how he makes up for his mistakes, my da says...perhaps the best way, is to show that a'm made of better stuff tha' what a've shown so far...like the wood under char, mebbe..."

He looked at the broom and it came to him...he was up and gone without a sound, flying with a fierce joy and a passionate determination to honor both his father and his new friend. He put his whole heart into it.

He made every circle, without so much as touching a ribbon, including the last, which involved a difficult twisting reversal, that only one other had ever made on a first-flight, one that had become the youngest seeker ever, in his day...

He returned, dismounted, and stood before him, like a hawk to a master's gauntlet...Too winded to speak, but his eyes spoke volumes.

...I am your friend, forever...

Surprised at the reactions Ryan had received, he stared down at the boy. As words came to his ears he replied, "Oh, no reason to be sorry. I woulda' flipped out if my broom was set on fire too." The rings were now up in the air, and Ryan watched as Noah pushed off from the ground. He had the quickness of a true Quidditch player and the maneuverability of someone to be admired by many. His small size gave him the ability to fit into tight spots, and Ryan could only imagine what the boy would do if he had one of the newer brooms.

Noah missed no rings, and Ryan knew that was an achievement. He himself had tried to fly through the exact same course, and even he had missed one ring. He had kicked off from the ground soon after Noah, and he had been at eye level watching the boy fly through the rings. As Noah finished, Ryan flew over to meet him near the last ring. As he got near Noah, the rings disappeared, something that Ryan knew would happen. "Man Noah, that was great. But let's see if you can catch."

Ryan placed his hands back on his Firebolt and dove towards the ground. He pulled up at the last second and glided into the tunnel to the locker rooms. In here he found the crate of balls, and hopping off his broom he grabbed a handle. Holding his broom in one hand and dragging the crate in the other, Ryan made his way out to the Pitch once again. "Okay Noah, here're the balls." He flipped open the crate.

"That big red one is the Quaffle, which the chasers use to score as you'll know. The two that look like they're about to break free are the Bludgers. Steer clear of those a' course. Now that tiny little one is the Golden Snitch, which you probably also know. Being the Gryffindor seeker, I have to catch that. Let's start off with the Quaffle." Ryan pulled out the misshapen red ball and hurled it up into the air. He jumped onto his broom a second later and chased the ball up into the clear air.

Grasping the Quaffle in his finger tips, he motioned for Noah to join him up in the air. As he waited for the boy to reach his height, he tossed the ball between his own two hands. It was bewitched so the Chasers could catch it easier, and it was easy for him to juggle it over his head. "Alright then," he said as Noah reached him, "we'll just play a little bit of catch. Go a little farther away from me and get ready." Ryan waited for Noah to reach a further distance away, and when Noah stopped to look back at him he threw the Quaffle over to him.

Noah had flown the course completely oblivious to being watched, the flight itself had been all that mattered. The joy of the challenge, the feeling of his father's dream fulfilled...

He was quietly, intensely exultant...The air was his natural element, clearly. He heard, on some deep level, Ryan's praise, and it almost seemed as if his da was there...He grinned, and followed Ryan down, and had dismounted, as Ryan brought out a crate. Noah rushed to help with the heavy thing, and looked at him, curious.

He looked intently at the bludgers...a look almost as dangerous as before, crossed his features, and he unconsciuosly held his arms so, as if he already held the bat.

"Steer clear o' those?" his laugh was sharp. "Best they steer clear o' me, I tell ye!" He hated bullies...and his eyes made it clear, that any of those things that went near his teammates would leave a cloud of iron shavings in their wake, when he beat them back...

And the snitch...the wee, dwt ballie, made him chuckle, all the more, as he had followed so closely the magnificent save by the Hufflepuff seeker in the first game he had ever seen. He blushed slightly, glad that Ryan couldn't know that he was sweet on someone...

Ryan was already up in the air , and motioning to him, before he came back to reality...Noah was airborne and approaching him, almost as quickly as if he'd been paying attention, all along...he pivoted, and spun away, and turned neatly, expectant. The quaffle came at him -

And, as good as he was at flying...that's how bad he was, with a quaffle...

That he could catch it at all, was obviously more due to the catching charm upon the thing, than any skill on Noah's part.

And throwing...he was, in a word, hopeless...Ryan, for all his skill, and catching charm or no, would be hard put to catch any of Noah's clumsy, mis-aimed returns...

The quaffle wasn't a threat, and didn't need protecting....it didn't call to his heart , like flying, or even make him smile with memories like the tiny golden ballie did...he just couldn't get into it, plain and simple.

"Don' make me a chaser, if ye value yer points, I guess..." He hovered, after one particularly funny-looking fumble.. " Got a position called 'clown"? Ach, never mind, i'd not be able ta juggle it, neither, never saw the use in it..."

Noah, grinned lopsidedly as he hovered near Ryan. He was disappointed, but a good sport about it...he had so many limitations, as it was...he'd just found another, was all...

Ryan let out a laugh at the small boy's confidence. "No, Noah, I think you better steer clear of the bludgers. You may want to hit them away, but they can be tricky devils. Another thing, no offense, you don't exactly have the size to do much damage with a bludger." He looked down at the boy, hoping he hadn't hurt any feelings. Ryan knew that the boy's size wouldn't allow him to hit any bludger very hard, but it would be possible for him to still beat them away.

The small boy had a very limited amount of skill when it came to catching and throwing the Quaffle. Ryan could tell that he definitely wouldn't make any kind of chaser. Smiling at Noah, he figured the best idea was to quit using the Quaffle right away. He motioned for Noah to follow him down to the ground, back near the crate that still held the Snitch and the two bludgers. Ryan knew that Noah wasn't quite ready for the bludgers, after all, he had only been on a broom for a little while.

"Well, Noah, we won't start out with bludgers just yet." Bounding off the ground, Ryan flew back over towards the locker room and came back out with a large bag and a beater's bat. "This bag's full of golf balls. I'll throw them at you, and you beat them away. Try not to hit me though." Ryan let out a small chuckle. Leaping up into the air again, Ryan waited for Noah to follow. "Okay, get ready, I'm going to start throwing them." Ryan pointed his wand down at the bag he held in his hand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The bag began to levitate in thin air.

Reaching into the floating bag of golf balls, Ryan pulled out three. He waited for Noah to get into place. "Get a little further away, so it's more realistic like the golf ball's a bludger." Ryan hovered on his Firebolt while he waited for Noah to move over. Once Noah reached the spot that Ryan wanted him to be at, he made sure that Noah's eyes were on him. "Okay, here come the golf balls. At first I'll throw them one at a time, but after awhile I'll start throwing them at a faster pace." Ryan moved his arm to just behind his ear and hurled the first ball at Noah.