Fandom Broom Flying is for Plebians

[Arabella Cauwell]

Title: Broom Flying is for Plebians
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: OC’s : Ezekiel Hallow x (will put when known)
Place: Hogwarts 1989
Summary: In which a Ravenclaw girl wants to save a Slytherin boy. [Better summary once the thread is complete]​

Ezekiel Hallow was a god, or that’s what he seemed to believe himself to be, at least in public.

Truly he did have an impressive background as far as magical users were concerned. His mother was from Druidic leaders in Ireland, once known themselves to the average citizen as spirits, gods, or even fae. They themselves had no fae blood, but plebeians had a hard time reconciling differences in those with magic unless they were more of an obvious magical creature. From her he learned not only the spells of England, but also of Ireland, which as far as he could tell seemed more magical.

His father was a well known English Wizarding family, but he worked in International Magic at the Ministry and was therefore something of a magical ambassador. That was how he had met Ezekiel’s mother in the first place, and also how Ezekiel grew up to know more international magic than your average Hogwarts student, even when factoring in Ravenclaws.

Perhaps that was why Ezekiel Hallow seemed so arrogant, despite not being an obvious English Wizarding name like the Blacks or Malfoys, but in a way he had an edge on such names. For one thing, he was not in short of Pureblood girls throwing themselves at him. He may not be a Malfoy or a Black, but that also meant he was not likely a cousin either. And no Pureblood could dispute his lineage on either side, for his family was documented in Wizarding History textbooks.

So perhaps most people could see why he stuck his nose up in distaste at just about everyone he met. His fellow house members would be the first to understand such a thing. Ezekiel couldn’t just talk to anyone, unless they were the best of the best, or a self-proclaimed or appointed minion. So besides sending orders, boasting, and talking to teachers he didn’t spend much time with anyone. The handful of students who he would talk to, lineage wise, were rather busy themselves or had their own minions to order around and plots to make sure were running smoothly, so it was a somewhat lonely life, but such was the plight of a god he supposed, and it was better than being a plebian.

Speaking of which, Ezekiel turned up his nose in disgust as a bunch of Ravenclaws ran into charms class ahead of him. Some of the more butt kissing Slytherin dregs wiped off his shoes for him as he sneered before walking into the classroom and taking his seat, which yet another dreg had been holding for him. Ezekiel didn’t even have to nod to let the boy know it was time to move, he merely stood near the seat, looked away, and then slipped into it when the boy scurried off. Neither saying thank you, nor even giving the boy the time of day.

Parchment and a self-inking and writing quill were produced from his backpack in a similar fashion and he was ready for class. But as it was still too early for the class to start, and the professor was still not there, much of the class were chatting with each other. Ezekiel sighed, as he decided to listen in to some conversations, as the other potential conversationalists were not making eye contact. Well technically one of them was making eye contact with a mirror, but since Ezekiel wasn’t magically on the other side he wasn’t about to be the first to start up the conversation and make himself seem lesser than them. So you can see how Pureblood friendships could be hard to maintain, particularly in the house of the snake.

Listening in was normally fun. One could collect important blackmail or be amused by what commoners thought was important or exciting. He seen things that most of these English Born witches and wizards couldn’t even imagine. Magic that was fairytales even to the magical Ezekiel had gotten to see firsthand.

Today’s conversation though was one that Ezekiel Hallow was particularly uncomfortable with, but he could not let it show lest someone else get blackmail on him. He did his best to pretend to look out of the window of the classroom as if bored due to lack of interest in the topic, but only because he had practiced schooling his features many times did he not instantly give himself away.

It had started with a conversation about Quidditch, which many males in any Hogwarts house conversed about as it was, at least England’s, most popular Wizarding sport. Ezekiel did not get why it was such a popular sport, even other countries were into it, but honestly it was just a bunch of grown men on uncomfortable brooms futilely attempting to score points and bruise opponents for as long as possible, seemingly only to entertain the crowd since 99 times out of 100 the winning team had everything to do with the Seeker and his ability to find a small flying gold ball. Don’t even get him started on the origins of the sport either as a species of bird nearly went extinct before someone made a mechanical snitch.

He really didn’t get it, but he could tolerate or zone out the other boys talks of such things for the most part. Unfortunately the conversation of Quidditch moved from professional teams to local ones, or rather Slytherins own team. Still he might have been fine, but a ‘helpful’ minion ruined it all when he asked Ezekiel,

“I’ve always wondered actually, why aren’t you on the team Ezekiel? Surely with someone as graceful and talented as you we’d win every match!” The minion had said enthusiastically.

Ezekiel didn’t have to answer yet. The rabble was talking to him, not someone important so he could get away with it, or so he thought before Merula Snyde stuck her annoying, but quite Pureblooded nose into things,

“Come to think of it you transferred in during second year and since then I’ve never actually seen you on a broom,” Merula said and as Ezekiel made it a point not to ignore her he turned and practically watched the cogs shifting in her head, an evil smirk formed on her face as she said, “maybe you’ve never wanted to join the team, because you can’t fly.”

Ezekiel waited for her cackling to die down before responding, his mind going a mile a minute as he figured a way out. Despite his nerves his tone was honeyed as ever and his commentary was so smooth you’d need a Legilimens to figure out that what he was saying was not the whole truth,

“I won’t join the team because it’s a crude and barbaric game that can bring harm to oneself, which to me is the opposite of the Slytherin Code. Brooms are so archaic and boring, they really have no class. In fact, muggles use them for household labor, so you can keep your dirty brooms. Besides, while you have no hope for your looks, a work of art like me can’t voluntarily put myself in the way of a bludger. Pureblood girls would faint right and left at the mere mention of it. So you can keep your sweaty uniforms and reset noses to yourself, and I have a particularly good idea for just where you can stick your broom.” He said pointedly at the end.

Merula was probably contemplating a hex of some kind to use against him, as words were certainly not her strong suit, some braver Slytherins snickered at her as she glared daggers at him just as McGonagall entered the room. Considering the power and position of McGonagall Ezekiel knew he had at least until after class to worry about her revenge, but more importantly he had gotten the hounds off the scent for now.

Tonight he would have to work on his plan though, because he just knew that Merula would find a way to attempt to prove her suspicions one day, and he refused to look like a fool. Instead he had every intention of making Merula look like one. Ezekiel smirked as his quill took notes that he was only half listening to at the moment. After all it was always hard for to plot and do schoolwork at the same time. But if anyone could do it, Ezekiel could, he was a Hallow after all.

 

[ekoutrakos]

If anyone, could hate the Slytherians more than herself she’d be surprised. The year was 1989 not 1860, not every muggle person used a broom to clean their homes. Many people, used vacuum cleaners! Rolling her eyes, as Elaine found her seat still listening to the teenagers just across from her.

She had often been surprised of the way her Slytherian classmates had and were growing. She wouldn’t notice it, against her own peers but seeing people sit across from her was slightly amusing, hair grows longer as you age, some say even the way you speak changes. Elaine had yet to notice a difference in Ezekiel’s tone of voice he was still an outdated Slytherin. Biting into her lip, as she pulled her books and quil from her bag, part of her hoped he’d never change.

Stuck, then the only pruebloods he’d be chasing were old ladies. Pushing a long piece of curl out of her face, she felt the usual shift of parchment under her elbow. The crinkled paper, holding the prettiest handwriting of a girl who sat three rows behind her.

“Owlery tonight? Better than sitting in the common room.” Tossing the paper aside, Elaine understood the message.

 

[Arabella Cauwell]

Hours and hours later, under the cloak of darkness, and with a particularly good copycat spell so that his roommates didn’t catch on to his actions, Ezekiel Hallow found his way to what he felt was a very secluded spot near the owlery. The young pureblood had the newest beginner broom in hand as he prepared to practice with it.

It was already past curfew, but as long as he wasn’t caught he felt it would be well worth it. Not having been at Hogwarts the first year, he’d managed not to look like an idiot on a broom, but conversely he’d also not been trained to work one properly. It wasn’t as if he’d never gone on magical flying objects, he just really didn’t get what was so great about a broom, and brooms seemed to feel the same. Magic Carpets and Flying Shoes were more his style, and they certainly would set him apart from the rest of the other kids of Hogwarts, but that was precisely what he didn’t want. At Hogwarts it was cool to be able to ride a broom, so that was what he had to learn in order to remain popular.

Ezekiel used a lumos spell to light his wand before accio-ing a beginners manual to flying a broom. He was quite pleased that there were diagrams showing step by step, but still as he first began his practice he couldn’t help but feel like the broom wasn’t working with him. If anything it felt as if it were working against him,

“Blasted broom, how on earth do so many wizards use you effectively? You allegedly have a cushioning charm, but I for one am certainly not feeling it.” Ezekiel said in exasperation after he’d finally managed to get the thing to come into his hand, albeit hard enough to feel that he probably had a blister from that alone.

But he was nothing if not determined. And so for quite a bit of time he fought against the broom and his own instincts. Time ticking away as he stubbornly refused to give up and tried not to think about how he was failing and what most, if not all, first years could do at this school. It was a humbling thought, which was exactly why Ezekiel tried to keep it at bay.