Vladimir stood in a crowd of other students, who had the equal amount of confusion as he did. Them dressed in the robes that were given and their textbooks that will later be lost somewhere during the school year. A small group of students near him were snickering and sending him disgusting glances that Vladimir swore he could feel the taste of it. He tugged lightly at his sleeve of his three-sizes-to-large robe, lowering the gaze of his blue eyes. Back home he wasn't welcomed because of them, only natural to have brown, Vladimir began to whisper quietly begging to not let the troublesome problem follow him here.
An older man, the house leader of Vuples, called all Fifth years to go down to the field near by, for our brooms. We began to quickly walk slowly evening out into a line with 3 or 4 people in one clump. Vlad hung near the back to keep his heels from uninvited heel-stepping. A small flicker in his heart made his eyebrows furl up, as if someone tugged a string at his heart. Looking back he saw a very old man turn from the window before disappearing. But Vladimir passed it off.
He never had anything against flying, he really did, but heights and dealing with the possibility he could fall to his death sent shivers down his spine, the kind you get when you know you are in deep trouble. His feet barely touched the ground when he mounted the old dark-wooded broom, already given the command to not be in the air.
"Dude," a fellow student hissed at him "get down!"
"I-I-I-I d-don't know h-how!" Vlad shook in his boots and let out a sudden curtailing scream when the broom lurched forwards. Now if only he had a potion to keep his boots from falling off.