At three-thirty that afternoon.
After Charms, their flying lesson was about to take place on the grounds before the castle gates.
It was a sunny, breezy day.
A few white clouds shaped like sheep drifted across the deep blue sky.
As they hurried down the sloping lawn toward a flat stretch of grass on the other side of the grounds, the lush green grass beneath their feet rippled gently like waves.
Beyond the lawn lay the forest, its dark trees swaying in the wind in the distance.
The Slytherin students were already there, along with twenty Flying Broomsticks lined up neatly on the ground.
Basil spotted Draco Malfoy at once.
His pale blond hair gleamed gold beneath the sunlight.
Small and thin, he stood shrunken beside Crabbe and Goyle.
He stared longingly at the brooms on the ground, wanting to touch one.
Basil could not help thinking of the photograph of Narcissa Malfoy his predecessor had seen in Wizard Weekly.
She was far prettier than in the films!
Her tall figure, fair skin, long golden hair, icy beauty, proud nose, and thin lips that seemed forever poised in mockery.
In the moving photograph, her nose had been tilted high, wearing the haughty expression of someone who had caught a foul smell.
It vaguely resembled the expression Draco Malfoy had worn on the train when he extended his hand as though bestowing charity.
If that face wore the same pitiful expression Draco had now...
Hiss! Once Lucius Malfoy was dealt with, perhaps he could become Draco's stepfather?
"Narcissa, you wouldn't want Draco to become an orphan and get bullied, would you?"
While pondering such important matters of life, Basil still wore a sunny, breezy smile, the very picture of a bright and cheerful young man.
It made Hermione, who had been muttering nervously while staring at the broom, relax.
In her eyes, Basil's brows were faintly furrowed, giving him a slightly melancholy air.
Yet he was strong and independent, hiding everything behind a hearty smile.
The breeze lifted his golden hair, and a fresh scent like sunlit grass after rain drifted into her nose.
For a moment, she even forgot that Madam Hooch—their flying instructor, with short gray hair and two yellow, hawk-like eyes—was watching from nearby.
She barked, "That brown-haired girl! What are you dawdling for?"
"Everyone, stand beside a Flying Broomstick. Hurry up, hurry up, we're short on time."
When she saw Basil still standing there, her voice unconsciously softened again.
"Come here, child."
She casually picked out the best broom and walked over to Basil.
"Here, this is your broom for the lesson. Class is about to begin."
Basil, who had been indulging in fantasy, snapped back to his senses.
The image in his mind of Narcissa in an elegant lady's gown, her Qing Leng face delicate and fragile, was overwritten by the face of this masculine-looking, yellow-eyed woman, like some iron-fisted lesbian.
Basil resisted the urge to take a step back and accepted the broom without changing expression.
He walked over to stand between Hermione, whose face had turned red, and Ron, whose face was full of jealousy.
Harry glanced down at his own Flying Broomstick. It was battered and old, with twigs sticking out at all angles.
Then he looked at Basil's, clean as new, its tail formed of neat, orderly bristles.
He suddenly understood how Ron felt.
"Why is Madam Hooch so gentle with you?" Ron muttered quietly.
Neville, Seamus, and Dean stood together, looking utterly distracted.
They stared at the brooms before them as though they were dangerous venomous snakes.
Basil looked at Neville.
The second Chosen One.
In communal life, students with similar interests, personalities, or backgrounds often consciously or unconsciously formed small groups.
Gryffindor students' fondness for breaking school rules was an example of this.
The Sorting Hat's selection certainly played a role, but it was also an instance of individuals being influenced by the group.
That was why he disliked the house system.
A person's character could not simply be divided into four traits.
After a month, their class had also formed little groups based on how their personalities complemented one another.
Even though Basil had deliberately tried to draw him closer.
Neville had gradually become relatively distant from them without realizing it.
He had begun spending time with Seamus and Dean, who shared a dormitory with second-years next door.
The only three Gryffindor first-year girls were Hermione, Lavender, and Padma.
The three shared a dormitory, but Lavender and Padma hardly interacted with Hermione.
Instead, they spent time with Padma's twin sister, Parvati, who was in Ravenclaw.
As for Basil himself, he had formed a small group with Harry and Ron, with Hermione joining them like an accessory.
"Looks like making Neville's Echo will have to be abandoned," Basil sighed inwardly.
The flying lesson officially began.
"Extend your right hand over the broom handle," Madam Hooch called from the front. "Then say, 'Up!'"
"Up!" Basil's broom obediently jumped into his hand.
Harry's did the same.
To Basil's surprise, Draco Malfoy's broom was equally obedient.
Beside him, however, Crabbe and Goyle's brooms did not budge.
Just like Neville's.
"Looks like Malfoy becoming a Seeker later wasn't entirely because of his father."
Basil glanced at Ron again.
Ron's broom had also jumped into his hand.
He walked over to Neville and said quietly, "Brooms are like horses. They can sense the fear in your heart. You have courage, but clearly, you would rather stay on the ground than go into the sky."
"Thank you, Basil." Neville nodded.
He closed his eyes, preparing to try again.
However, Madam Hooch seemed to be very impatient.
She was unwilling to give the other students who had not succeeded, including Neville, any more time.
She hurriedly called out, "All right, the broom-summoning portion is over."
"Please place the broom between your legs."
She shouted at Seamus, whose mother was a witch and father a Muggle, but who had never actually been near a broom.
"Boy! Don't worry, it won't crush your eggs! All brooms have Cushioning Charms on them."
Basil, who had never ridden a broom either, sat down, and a comfortable, enveloping sensation covered his lower body.
The feeling was elusive, as though he had touched a soft cloud.
A magical invisible cushion truly was beyond comparison with any kind of stuffing!
This time, he voiced his complaint outright. "No wonder Flying Broomsticks are so popular. They're really—hiss—comfortable!"
"Neville, you should try it too. It's very comfortable."
Neville sat down tremblingly and remained completely still.
But once he came into contact with the cushion, his expression relaxed.
Next, Madam Hooch went around correcting each of their grips on the brooms.
But when she reached Malfoy, something changed.
Madam Hooch's repeated corrections and criticism made Malfoy explode.
All the negative emotions he had accumulated during this time surged out at once.
"Shut up, you old hag! The greatest Seeker, Gwenog Jones, holds a broom like this!"
Madam Hooch's first reaction was not anger, but surprise.
"You're a Holyhead Harpies fan? But that's an all-female team!"
"Child, this grip is more suitable for women."
"You don't have breasts getting in the way, so you don't need to hold it like that. Besides, it puts all the pressure on your lower body, which is not good for male reproductive organs either."
Ron burst into laughter.
Crabbe did the same.
Madam Hooch did not notice Ron, instead sternly telling Crabbe, "Do not laugh at your classmate."
She did not notice that Malfoy's hand had already slipped into his pocket.
"Hot and Spicy!" Malfoy screamed.
The movement was so swift that no one had time to react.
A beam of light struck Crabbe.
Crabbe stopped laughing.
He let out a loud scream and clutched his nose as ugly boils began sprouting from it one after another.
"How dare you!" Madam Hooch was truly angry now.
She grabbed Draco by the ear.
Draco did not resist. His face was full of pleasure at getting revenge.
He grew smug, and awe returned to the eyes of the surrounding Slytherins.
Especially Goyle's.
"And you." Madam Hooch looked at Crabbe with disgust. "You're coming too. When I take this child to the Slytherin Head of House's office, you'll come along as well. Go to the infirmary on your own."
"All of you, do not move until I return! Put the Flying Broomsticks back where they were, or watch out for deducted points!"
"Oh, and Slytherin loses ten points!"
Thanks to classmates Yuchi Jinyin and 20221102001218020 for their monthly votes, and to the other classmates for their recommendations!
Before you continue