Flying Lessons

After Madam Hooch left, the students all put down their brooms.

They began discussing Malfoy's swift movements and precise spellcasting.

Quite a few said that if it had been them, they probably would not have reacted in time either.

But not everyone knew their own limits.

Ron was thoroughly unconvinced.

"What's so impressive about that? It was just a hex."

Then he brightened again. "Ha ha, will he get expelled for that? A hex is at least somewhat connected to Dark Magic, and his target was a fellow student. Not to mention he's a Death Eater's son, and his family isn't on the board of governors anymore!"

Hermione raised her index finger and wagged it from side to side. "But according to Professor Flitwick, hexes count as the simplest advanced spells. Once we reach the upper years, we'll be taught some hexes in Defense Against the Dark Arts. For example, the Blocking Charm, Impedimenta. Compared with the Shield Charm Basil used last time, it's much simpler."

"This spell is quite interesting. When used on a living creature, it creates a freezing effect. Miranda Gosak's Standard Book of Spells says it can briefly freeze an attacker for around ten seconds. In a duel, it's an indispensable weapon."

"If it is simply cast on a spell or on the air and used as a shield, it turns the area you choose into an invisible 'swamp,' slowing anything living or any attack that enters that 'swamp.'"

Ron's face fell. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the grass.

"It's just a hex. It's not like nobody else can cast one."

"Eat slugs!"

A green beam shot straight into the grass.

Harry instinctively took a step back. "What kind of joke is this?"

It reminded him of that green flash.

Basil crouched down and examined the Little Grass that had been hit.

A translucent slug had appeared on one of its blades.

He asked with great interest, "What spell is that?"

Ron puffed up proudly. "The Slug Curse. It makes people keep vomiting—vomiting up shiny slugs."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Ew, that's disgusting!"

Harry shook his head. "No, that spell is very useful."

"Especially the color," Basil said. He and Harry exchanged a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, Madam Hooch returned with Malfoy, who wore an utterly unconcerned expression.

Ron clicked his tongue in disappointment.

Harry, meanwhile, inexplicably felt relieved.

Basil thought it might be because Malfoy had not crazily picked fights with him like in the original plot. Instead, he had been coldly isolated by his Slytherin classmates.

Draco returned to the line, and Goyle hurriedly shifted positions to stand behind and to Draco's left, like a lackey.

Everything that followed went smoothly.

Madam Hooch taught them that when the broom was between their legs, all they had to do was push hard off the ground with both legs to rise into the air.

To return to the ground, they only needed to lean slightly forward and descend vertically.

Likewise, to go left, they leaned left; to go up, they shifted their weight backward.

The greater the angle of the lean, the sharper the turn in that direction.

Basil realized that this was essentially a more comfortable, more advanced skateboard.

He quickly got the hang of it and began flying smoothly.

He was not as good as Harry, but he was about on Ron's level.

And Neville—

Perhaps because Basil was watching him this time, and he no longer felt afraid—

He successfully flew into the air.

He was somewhat slow and wobbly, but it was already very good.

The voice in Basil's mind announcing that he had received 300 gems proved it even more clearly.

Harry was still flying extremely well.

He received Madam Hooch's praise. "I knew it! You're just as good as your father! There's even a trophy in the trophy room with the name 'James Potter' on it!"

The smile on Harry's face instantly collapsed.

He forced out a word of thanks.

After learning that his father was basically a combination of Dudley and the Weasley twins—

Harry had become less willing to hear about any similarities between himself and his father.

So just now, he had felt both proud and ashamed.

But Draco Malfoy mistook that for showing off.

He flew over to Harry in a very smooth curve and gave him a provocative look.

Ron, who had landed on the ground, instantly flared up. "Show him what you've got, Harry!"

Harry did not really want to fight.

But the students below began egging them on.

"Teach that Slytherin a lesson!"

"Malfoys are evil by nature!"

"Show them what real Slytherin skill looks like!"

Malfoy also mistook it for Harry accepting the challenge.

He leaned forward, sending his broom hurtling toward Harry like a javelin.

Harry easily dodged it, but he seemed to have been stirred to anger as well.

He gripped his broomstick and charged back.

The two darted back and forth, displaying superb flying skills.

Surprisingly, Madam Hooch did not interfere.

She merely told them to be careful.

She had the other students still flying come down, saying their skills were not up to standard yet.

She left space for Harry and Malfoy.

Hermione was deeply dissatisfied by this.

She felt this was far too unclassroom-like.

For his own purposes—delaying Harry's entry into the Quidditch team in order to earn gems—

Basil asked Madam Hooch, under Hermione's delighted gaze, "Shouldn't you stop them? What if they get hurt?"

Madam Hooch shook her head. "They're both good enough for the school team already." Basil's heart skipped a beat.

"And it's Gryffindor and Slytherin. This is normal."

"The previous years were even more outrageous."

"I tried to stop it before, but Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape never cared. They hardly even deducted points."

She pointed at a second-floor window. "You might not be able to see it, but my eyes are far sharper than most people's. Professor McGonagall is standing by the window. She's very excited right now!"

"Believe it or not, once class ends, she'll definitely come over and ask Potter to join Quidditch training!"

Basil's heart sank halfway.

He shook his head.

Madam Hooch had still been too conservative.

Harry would probably join the Gryffindor Quidditch team directly, just as in the original story.

Hermione was equally dejected.

At that moment, she looked like a young fan watching her idol's image shatter.

She finally understood just how indulgent Professor McGonagall was toward students in Quidditch, as Nearly Headless Nick had said.

Sure enough, when the bell rang for the end of class—

Harry and Malfoy had already returned to the ground.

Professor McGonagall hurried out from the castle.

At her side was a tall, sturdily built older student.

After his fierce battle with Malfoy had vented his frustrations, Harry had a smile at the corner of his mouth—but his body stiffened.

Ron was equally worried.

Only Basil and Hermione had heard Madam Hooch's words just now.

The other students had all been cheering.

However, Ron recognized the older student at a glance.

"That's Wood! Oliver Wood! The captain and Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Why is he here?"

He hurriedly studied Professor McGonagall's expression.

At last, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He nudged Harry with his elbow. "Don't be nervous! Didn't you see that Madam Hooch didn't say anything? And Wood came too."

"Maybe you'll be specially allowed to train with the Gryffindor Quidditch team!"