Okay, big thanks to all my fantastic and loveable reviewers for being relatively patient with me and my lack of time to do anything but study...and post a teaser and a new story.../blushes/ anyway, this chapter gave me a few problems when it was still just an idea, but luckily a little, extreme use of the delete button fixed everything and you have this marvel of...something...

Another thanks and many props go to Chloe for listening to me complain and brag about several lines in the chapter and then beta...with only a little kicking and screaming...

Also, I mean no offense to Fundamental Southern Baptists, I grew up with tons of them and I love them all and most of them are not in the least irrational...I'm just playing on a stereotype, which is wrong, I understand and I duly apologize...

Chapter Fourteen: Shut Your Mouth

"This whole thing has to be a farce of titanic proportions," Harry declared as he stared around him. The whole Titanic reference completely went over a lot of the people's heads, and Harry couldn't help but wonder just how much he could get away with when it came down to Muggle culture.

It would definitely be worth exploring.

Hormone rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time today. Apparently she'd heard more than enough complaints from Harry about the broomstick lesson.

"Where were you this morning, anyway?" she demanded, attempting to change the subject. "You missed Potions, it was a—"

"I would have missed Potions if I had showed up," Harry replied. "Snape would have kicked me out in under fifteen minutes, tops. But, come on, do you have any idea about how sexually repressed this is? Riding broomsticks, honestly!"

Hermione appeared to be fed up. "Will you shut—"

"You know, Hormone," Harry said very seriously, "real friends don't let friends straddle phallic symbols."

Hermione glared at him and told him, "You're absolutely awful!"

"Thank you," Harry said with a smirk. "I really do try."

Silence reigned for a few more seconds, and then Harry couldn't stand not being the center of attention, and had to overthrow the new monarch.

"Speaking of riding broomsticks, the whole game of Quidditch is sexually repressed!" Harry declared. "Throwing balls into big hoops, riding broomsticks, hitting balls with sticks, keeping balls out of the hoops — I like how there's only two people fighting for virginity out there…"

Hermione didn't deign a response.

"The Keepers are my heroes, personally," Harry replied, "I have to respect that they don't want people throwing balls into their hoops."

Then Madam Hooch appeared and she briskly told them to find a broomstick to stand beside, and all of the students scrambled to follow her instruction, except for Harry.

"Wearing a dress just isn't enough for you people, is it?" Harry demanded. "You also have to rape my mind with the strange innuendo of your repressed society."

Hooch was momentarily taken aback by this comment, and then barked at him to go and stand next to a broomstick. This time Harry listened, and he skulked over to stand next to Hermione, where an empty place had been left between her and Boot. Clearly the two first year Ravenclaws would never leave Harry be.

"Now, you're going to hold your hand over your broomstick, and—"

"So, why are we doing this again?" Harry demanded as he stared down, dubiously, at the broomstick on the ground next to him.

"Riding a broomstick is a very important skill—"

"Phallic symbols are against my religion, no matter how useful they are," Harry declared haughtily.

Hooch leveled Harry with a glare and replied, "Unless you're a Fundamental Southern Baptist, I don't want to hear it."

Harry cleared his throat and shuffled his feet before asking, "How do you know I'm not?"

"I have on good authority from Professor Sprout that you're a Satanist or something of the like, and that makes you unable to plant mint for whatever reason," Hooch replied. "So if you admit to being Baptist, that would mean that you lied to Professor Sprout… and I don't think you would want to face the consequences of that."

Harry pursed his lips and glared at Hooch saying, "Carry on with your lesson, then."

"Now, you're going to hold your hand over your broomstick and say 'up', and once you've all got your brooms in hand we'll go over proper riding technique."

"'Brooms in hand'?" Harry demanded, "'Proper riding technique?' I think my brain has exploded."

Hermione shushed him and Hooch told them to get on with it.

"UP!" Hermione demanded, and her broomstick rolled over, but it was certainly a better response than most of his peers were getting. Harry decided that despite his very anti-broom attitude he would show them all up.

Because as everyone knows, character flaws create more drama… ask the ancient Greeks.

"Up!" Harry said, hoping he wouldn't have to yell because it would make it all the more impressive, and the broomstick flew straight up into his hand. Then thoughts assailed Harry of all the butt juice that broom had to have from all the years of students riding it, and Harry only managed to keep holding it because of all the glares he was getting from his jealous classmates.

Harry smirked at all of them and taunted, "Yeah, that just happened."

It all went downhill to the actual broom straddling part of class, and Harry really couldn't understand what exactly was so hard about riding a broomstick, and why it would need a technique.

Madam Hooch made it to him, and he was declared a natural at the broomstick straddling. Harry did not appreciate that implication…

Hooch moved onto the footwear boy that had taken to following Harry around. Harry really did not appreciate that implication.

She told Boot to shift the broomstick up a little higher, and Harry could not keep his lack of appreciation for that implication to himself anymore.

"I do not appreciate that implication!" Harry exclaimed. "How dare you!"

Hooch looked away from Boot with a strange, disbelieving look on her face and she asked, "Are you all right?"

"No, I am not all right!" Harry replied, "You have insulted me! You hurt my feelings!"

Madam Hooch continued to stare at him before shaking her head, unimpressed, and continuing down the line through the rest of the students.

Harry glared at her the entire time for ignoring his poor feelings and making him straddle a broom with years of butt juice on it while she ignored him.

"I should cry or something," Harry commented. "This should definitely not pass unnoticed."

Hermione turned to Harry, her eyebrows cocked, looking very confused. "What?"

"I'm being raped by the magical world's sexual repression," Harry replied, and Hermione wasn't able to discern whether or not his dejection was real or fabricated. "I'm so being forced to ride a broomstick against my will."

"You're being overly dramatic about this," Hermione told him, rolling her eyes.

"I will admit to being dramatic," Harry told her, "but I don't think I'm being too dramatic. I think I have just the right amount of drama for such a situation."

"All right!" Hooch yelled. "You're all ready, so we're going to take off on the count of three, and don't let me catch any of you taking off a moment sooner!"

"You never said anything about flying!" Harry exclaimed, turning to look at Hooch, shocked. "I didn't agree to this!"

Harry's peers began groaning and whispering for him to shut up.

"It's a flying lesson, Harry," Hermione said in exasperated anger. "What did you think we would be doing?"

"I'm not going to fly," Harry declared. "I'm not going to do it."

"Is there any particular reason why you've got such a vendetta against riding a broomstick?" Madam Hooch demanded as she stalked over to him. "Or are you just trying to be difficult?"

"It's probably a mix of the two," Harry replied honestly, "but you're not getting my feet off the ground, I can promise you that."

"One!" Hooch yelled, "Two!"

"No!" Harry yelled, petulantly staring down Madam Hooch. "I refuse!"

She gave a rather put-upon sigh and began, "Mr. Wizard—"

"Jamesonhumperdinkel!" Harry corrected quickly and firmly, and Harry rounded on Hermione declaring, "That's why I missed class this morning! I have changed my name to Harry James Jamesonhumperdinkel! And I demand to be called such!" Harry finished dramatically, and turned to smile smugly at his fellow students.

They, however, were certainly not impressed with his name change and stared at him like he'd completely lost his mind. Hermione looked completely horrified, though, and Harry decided to take advantage of the situation.

He scoffed at Hermione and rolled his eyes, commenting dryly, "And you wanted to be my friend."

"Well, Mr. Jamesonhumperdinkel," Hooch replied firmly, "Keep your mouth shut or I'll turn you over to Snape. I believe you're not overly fond of his punishments."

Harry grumbled and looked down at his toes.

"Two!" Hooch repeated, forcefully reminding all of Harry's classmates that they were still going to be flying today. "Three!"

Everyone around Harry pushed off, or tried really hard to get airborne. Harry, however, continued standing right where he was, and began glaring at Madam Hooch's shoes.

"Wiz—whatever your name is now!" Hooch yelled, "Why aren't you airborne?"

"I said I wasn't going to leave the ground and I'm not leaving the ground," Harry replied, lifting his head so that he was glaring at Madam Hooch's face… because it certainly needed to be glared at.

Hooch appeared to be livid, and at the end of her patience. She marched over to Harry, saying something about Snape, and that was more than enough for Harry; he pushed off of the ground and felt his stomach twist in a rather pleasant way as he gained altitude.

Maybe this whole riding a broomstick thing wasn't so bad...

Hooch's features were fuzzy when Harry sailed to a stop well above his classmates.

"Now!" Harry yelled down to her, "I'm not coming down, and you can't make me! Mainly because I don't know how!"