Seems Like He's Not Very Good at Flying

In the morning, at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

Loren took a sip of Orange Juice, swallowed the bread in his mouth, stood up, and stretched luxuriously.

"Mmm-ah~ A wonderful new week begins with a wonderful Transfiguration Class." Loren was full of energy.

Beside him were Harry and Ron, the two unfortunate souls who had stayed up late the previous night using Loren's Transfiguration homework as a reference.

Harry was fine; he had gotten plenty of sleep during the day. Ron, however, had two dark bags under his eyes and looked utterly listless.

The group arrived at the Transfiguration Classroom in varying states.

Professor McGonagall collected their homework to grade that evening, then began checking everyone's progress on turning matches into needles.

Several students, including Loren, could already make their matches take the shape of needles. Hermione had even turned hers into something thin and sharp. She wanted to become a Witch as outstanding as Professor McGonagall, and she had worked very hard for it...

When class ended, Professor McGonagall assigned another three inches of homework.

At noon, at the dining table.

Loren cut open a lemon, squeezed its juice over his Lamb Chop, cut off a piece, and put it into his mouth. His eyes narrowed contentedly as a satisfied smile appeared on his face. The way he ate was far too tempting. Harry and Ron swallowed and copied him.

Hermione turned to Loren. "Your Transfiguration is clearly more proficient than mine. Why don't you let Professor McGonagall know?"

An Owl delivering packages flew in through the skylight.

Loren glanced up, swallowed another piece of Lamb Chop, and answered cheerfully, "Because cute little kittens never ask why?"

Hermione squeezed the Dinner Knife in her hand.

The sight made Loren's eye twitch, and he hurriedly explained, "There's no reason. I just don't want to attract attention. It's a personality thing."

Hermione had not yet had the chance to press further.

"Look, Neville got a Memory Charm!" Dean called out.

Hermione was drawn over as well and leaned closer to inspect it. "I've heard of these. If you've forgotten something, the Memory Charm will turn red in your hand."

As she spoke, red mist emerged from the center of the Memory Charm in Neville's hand.

Neville remained calm about it. "I know I forgot something too, but the problem is, I can't remember what I forgot."

Loren was very interested. "Can other people use it too?"

Neville handed the reddened Memory Charm to Loren. It turned even redder. Loren asked in confusion, "Is it broken?"

Hermione reached out and took it. The Memory Charm quickly returned to normal.

"Looks like some people forgot something too, just like Neville." The girl's tone was cheerful.

Loren kept thinking about what he had forgotten all the way back to the Common Room. In the end, he reached a conclusion: Memory Charms were an intelligence tax!

At that moment, on a ranch on High Mountain, a white-bearded Old Man gazed toward the Woods. He was waiting for an Owl to suddenly appear, and he had been waiting like that for many days.

The Old Man thought, He hasn't written a letter home after all this time. When that Brat comes back, I'll make his backside bloom!

Everyone discovered that a new notice had appeared in the Common Room. It brought one piece of good news and one piece of bad news.

The good news was that Flying Class would begin on Thursday. The bad news was that Gryffindor students would be taking it together with Slytherin students.

The First Years became excited and began wildly exaggerating.

Seamus said that he had spent most of his childhood riding a flying broomstick through the Wilderness, flying here and there.

For several days in a row, Ron lectured everyone around him on the Quidditch knowledge he knew. He bragged that he had once flown on Charlie's broomstick and nearly crashed into a Hang Glider.

Malfoy took that version up a level. He claimed he had dodged a helicopter while riding a flying broomstick.

Harry and Hermione grew anxious amid all these stories. Harry was deeply worried about making a fool of himself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy. Malfoy would definitely mock him, perhaps even keep Flogging a Corpse over it. Harry had learned that phrase from Loren and thought it was very fitting.

Hermione began reading every Beginner Flying Books she could find in the Library, but it was no use. Books could not show her how to fly, though it was not as if she had not tried.

Loren listened to all the outrageous stories and tried hard not to laugh. Those braggarts combined could not even eat Harry's dust.

He himself was not particularly concerned about flying. Whether he was good at riding a broomstick or not would not affect anything. He was not very interested in Quidditch, and if he needed to travel, there were more convenient and faster methods.

And so, Loren tried all sorts of things in Transfiguration, clung tightly to others in Herbology Class, experimented with new spells in Charms Class, was given a hard time in Potions class, and slept through A History of Magic.

In his spare time, he devoured Thick Books in the Library and basked in the sun by the lake. He had no grand ambitions. He studied when it was time to study. His days were peaceful yet fulfilling, and Loren enjoyed them very much.

Thursday afternoon, the long-awaited Flying Class arrived.

The instructor was Madam Hooch. She had short gray hair, yellow eyes, and a clipped, forceful way of speaking. She carried a whistle and truly looked like a physical education teacher. Strictly speaking, she was one.

On the Open Ground, Gryffindor and Slytherin students stood in two separate lines, with a flying broomstick beside each of them.

"Stretch out your right hand and hold it above the Broom Handle," Madam Hooch called from the front. "Then say, 'Up!'"

Harry got it immediately. Ron shouted too loudly, and his Broom Handle flew straight into his nose.

"Ow!" Ron cried out in pain. The people beside him burst into cheerful laughter.

"Hey! Are we even friends?!" Ron complained as he looked at his Roommates.

Aside from Harry and Malfoy, everyone else was about the same. It took them a long time to summon their broomsticks into their hands. Loren was the same. He seemed to have no Flying Talent at all. Hermione and Neville were the last two.

That result left Hermione somewhat dejected. She had wanted to become a Witch like Professor McGonagall and had held great expectations for Quidditch and flying. Professor McGonagall was very skilled at flying, but she had no talent for it.

Next, Madam Hooch demonstrated how to mount a broomstick without sliding off over the front. Malfoy struck a few showy poses and was harshly scolded by Madam Hooch. Harry was secretly pleased, while Malfoy grew even more annoyed.

After adjusting everyone's posture, Madam Hooch said, "All right. When I blow my whistle, push off with both legs and leave the ground. Push hard. Hold your broomstick steady, rise a few feet, then lean slightly forward and come straight back down."

Loren had been watching Neville. Neville was a timid, forgetful little fat boy, but he was kind and always willing to help others.

After a few classes, Loren had asked Neville to help carry his books back to the dormitory. Neville had always agreed happily. He seemed to think it was a sign that Loren trusted him, and he enjoyed that trust.

The sight of Neville being in so much pain during the last Potions class that he could not get back up had left a deep impression. That kind little fat boy did not need to be so unlucky, Loren thought.

"Listen for my whistle. Three, two, one!"

Neville was too nervous and shot forward at once. Before the broomstick had risen even a few inches, Loren grabbed Neville's robe and yanked him down, sending him crashing to the ground.

The broomstick flew upward for a short distance, then dropped straight down, smashed into a tree, and broke in half.

Neville broke out in a cold sweat as he watched. He suspected that if not for Loren, he might have been the one broken in two. Now, his clothes were merely dirty.

The surrounding students' hearts leaped into their throats as well.

Neville kept repeating to Loren, "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Dean and Seamus picked up Neville's Memory Charm and handed it to him, then kept comforting him. It took a long time before he calmed down.

Madam Hooch did not blame Neville. She brought over another broomstick, but Neville refused to fly again no matter what.

So everyone else's Flying Class continued while Neville watched from the side. In truth, many people who had seen what happened wanted to give up as well, but they did not say so.

Hermione felt uneasy. Her Flying Talent did not seem very good either, but she still gritted her teeth and continued the lesson.

After several vertical takeoffs and landings, everyone relaxed. What had happened to Neville had merely been an accident. Flying broomsticks were not that dangerous after all.

Madam Hooch had the students fly freely and slowly around the Open Ground, no higher than the Third Floor windows, then went over to comfort Neville and tried to persuade him to keep learning.

Neville only kept shaking his head.