Flying

At around three in the afternoon, Tierra, Harry, and Ron arrived at the grassy field in front of the school gates, where over twenty brooms had already been laid out neatly across the lawn.

By the time they arrived, the field was already packed with young witches and wizards from Gryffindor and Slytherin. The three of them were the last to arrive because Tierra had a habit of taking naps. Every day, from twelve-thirty to two-thirty, or from one to three, Tierra slept for two hours.

It was not for rest. Tierra's mental strength could sustain him for days and nights without sleep; it was simply a long-standing habit. His research life in his previous life had been busy, but precisely because it was busy, he had needed afternoon naps.

Harry had waited for Tierra, and Ron had waited for Harry, which was why the three of them arrived last.

Still, they seemed to have slipped quietly into the crowd of young wizards before their teacher appeared.

This time, Ron had learned his lesson. Instead of shooting his mouth off like he had during their first Transfiguration class, he pulled Harry and Tierra toward Hermione.

A minute after Harry, Ron, and Tierra arrived, Madam Hooch, their Flying teacher, walked onto the green field.

Madam Hooch had short gray hair and a pair of yellow, hawk-like eyes.

"All right, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch said briskly. "Everyone, stand beside a Flying Broomstick. Quickly, quickly, quickly! We're short on time!"

Tierra glanced down at his broom. It was battered and old, with twigs sticking out at all angles. Everyone else's was much the same. First-years were not allowed to bring their own brooms, otherwise Tierra was certain Malfoy would have brought his supposedly Nimbus Two Thousand and shown it off properly in front of Tierra and Harry.

"Stretch out your right hand and hold it over the broom handle," Madam Hooch called from the front. "Then say, 'Up!'"

"Up!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom immediately jumped into his hand, but only a few brooms were that obedient.

Tierra's broom hopped on the ground but did not leap into his hand.

Hermione's broom merely rolled over on the ground.

Neville's broom did not move at all.

Madam Hooch then demonstrated how to mount a broom without sliding off the other side. She walked up and down the line, correcting their grips.

To Tierra's surprise, sitting on the broom was not uncomfortable at all. Instead, it felt as though a soft force were supporting his backside, which greatly reduced his aversion to riding brooms.

After all, whenever Quidditch came up in the comment feed of a certain website in his previous life, the most common discussion had been whether brooms hurt that particular area.

"All right, when I blow my whistle, kick off with both legs and leave the ground. Kick hard," Madam Hooch said. "Hold your broom steady, rise a few feet, then lean forward slightly and come straight back down. Listen for my whistle. Three, two..."

However, Neville was too nervous, terrified of being left on the ground. Before the whistle even reached Madam Hooch's lips, he kicked hard and shot into the air.

"Come back, come back!" Madam Hooch shouted, but Neville rose straight upward like a cork popping from a bottle—twelve feet, twenty feet.

"Ah—ah—" Neville, his face deathly pale, slipped off his broom.

With a thud, he hit the grass and curled into a ball.

Fortunately, the soil beneath the grass had just been turned and was very soft. Though Neville was injured and lay curled on the ground, groaning continuously, he was still alive.

Madam Hooch bent down and lifted Neville into her arms. Her face was as pale as Neville's.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "All right, children... it's all right. Come on, we're going to the hospital wing."

She turned to the rest of the class. "I'm taking this child to the hospital wing. None of you are to move! Put your Flying Broomsticks back where they were, or you'll be thrown out of Hogwarts before you can even say Quidditch!"

"Come on, you poor thing." Her last words were addressed to Neville.

Then Madam Hooch carried Neville away through the castle gates.

The moment they were out of earshot, Malfoy burst into loud laughter.

"Did you see the state of him? That big idiot?" The other Slytherin students joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Pettier said sharply.

"Oh? You're defending Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson said. She was an ugly-looking Slytherin girl. "Who knew you liked chubby little crybabies, Pettier?"

"Look!" Malfoy said, rushing over to pick something up from the grass. "It's what that big idiot Longbottom's grandmother sent him."

He raised the Remembrall, which gleamed in the sunlight.

But Tierra was already walking toward him, broom in hand.

The broom was longer than a book and thinner, too.

But Malfoy had already suffered once; how could he fall for the same trick again? Before Tierra's broom could sweep into him, he straddled his own broom and flew into the air, drawing gasps from the young wizards below.

It seemed that apart from the helicopter part, Malfoy really did know how to ride a broom.

"Come catch me, you bookish Muggle!" Malfoy taunted from midair, glaring viciously at Tierra.

"Give it back, Malfoy!" Harry shouted at him.

Malfoy grinned viciously, tossing Neville's Remembrall up and down in one hand.

"If you want it, come and get it." Then, when he saw Tierra pull out his wand, Malfoy flew even higher.

Harry grabbed a broom.

"No!" Hermione shouted. "Madam Hooch told us not to move. You'll get us all into trouble."

Harry ignored her. He mounted the Flying Broomstick and kicked hard off the ground, rising into the air. The wind whipped through his hair, his robes flapping behind him, and he quickly reached Malfoy's height.

James's inheritance was plain to see.

Malfoy was utterly shocked.

"Bring it over," Harry shouted. "Or I'll knock you off your broom."

"Oh, really?" Malfoy said. He wanted to laugh, but it felt as though a toad were lodged in his throat.

Harry seemed to know instinctively what to do. He leaned forward and gripped the broom tightly with both hands. Then the broom shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy barely twisted aside in time.

Harry wheeled around sharply again and held his broom steady. A few people below began to clap.

Once again, he enjoyed the feeling of being the center of everyone's attention.

Only this time, he had achieved it entirely through his own strength.

Harry glanced down at Tierra.

Tierra still wore that faint smile, standing among the crowd and gently applauding Harry with his palms.

For some reason, Harry suddenly felt a little disappointed.

He would have preferred to see surprise or delight on Tierra's face.

Rather than that same faint smile he always wore.