The Most Painful Memory

Just as the Black family home motto was "Always Pure," the Malfoy family motto was "Always Flexible."

Always flexible, always notorious.

The moment Draco saw Harry draw his wand, he immediately lost his nerve.

He swiftly turned his broomstick around and fled.

To avoid being targeted by Harry's magic, he controlled his broomstick to weave from side to side in the air, trying to escape the fate of being hit.

Unfortunately, Harry lowered his wand. He was not a master of Legilimency.

Even a master of Legilimency needed the target to relax and meet their eyes in order to achieve the best effect. It could also stir the target's emotions and awaken related feelings and memories.

However, Draco still did not think that was safe enough, so he tossed the Memory Ball high into the air.

But he had forgotten that the Flying Broomsticks used for Hogwarts Flying Lessons were far too old to support such wild swerving.

The result was that the Flying Broomstick lost control on the spot, and Draco suffered the same fate as Neville.

"Ahhh—save me, save me!" Draco screamed in terror from the sky.

But screaming alone could not save him. When the broom gave another violent lurch, Draco was flung away like a kite with a snapped string.

On one side was Neville's Memory Ball; on the other was Draco, who had been thrown from his broom.

Harry nearly instantly decided which one he should save first, though he also felt that the little bastard needed a profound lesson.

"Accio!" Harry once again locked his wand onto the flying Draco. Magic tugged at his robe and pulled him before Harry.

The Summoning Charm could not affect people, but the friends from the Dueling Club had developed a little trick that let Accio work on a target's clothes, which was effectively the same as summoning the person.

"Whoa—" The classmates on the ground let out awed cries.

"Po... Potter?" Draco trembled all over.

"You will pay for what you did, Malfoy."

As Harry spoke, he held Draco in one hand and controlled his broomstick as he chased after the Memory Ball.

Though he wore glasses, his eyesight was excellent. He immediately locked onto the Memory Ball falling toward the ground.

He turned his broomstick and dived rapidly toward the ball.

Draco thought Harry was going to crash into the ground with him, and his emotions instantly collapsed.

"Please, Potter, don't do this! I'll do anything—"

But this did not affect Harry. Under Draco's utterly terrified gaze, the two of them rapidly closed in on the ground.

"Ah—" Draco let out a piercing scream worthy of a soprano.

At the very instant they were about to hit the ground, Harry stopped the Flying Broomstick and caught Neville's Memory Ball with his other hand.

The Gryffindor students cheered and surged forward, surrounding Harry in the middle.

"Buddy, that was seriously amazing!" Ron exclaimed sincerely.

He loved Quidditch most of all, but he swore that even England's national Quidditch players could not have done better than Harry.

Harry smiled at his friends. When he let go, Draco landed on the ground with a thud, flat on his backside.

"I-I'm telling my Father!" Draco cried, with snot and tears all over his face.

"Oh, cut it out, Drama-K." Harry said disdainfully. "I see you're not just dramatic—you're also a Snivellus."

"Y-you just wait!" Draco still refused to back down verbally.

"Wait for what?" Ron swept Draco with his broomstick. "What are you going to do, rub your tears and snot all over us?"

After being mocked by Ron, whom he had always looked down on, Draco immediately felt unable to save face.

He glared resentfully at Ron and began attacking the Weasley family.

"I think that mouth of yours needs washing." Harry coldly pointed his wand at Draco. "Scourgify!"

A pile of pink soap bubbles immediately poured out of Draco's mouth. He tried to vomit them out, but there was nothing he could do.

"Mr. Potter?"

Professor McGonagall's voice came from afar. The students automatically made way, revealing Harry and the others in the middle.

"What are you doing?" Professor McGonagall's expression immediately turned stern, and she casually cast a counterspell on Draco.

"Nothing, Professor." Harry said to Professor McGonagall, "Malfoy's broom went out of control just now. When I rescued him, he got a mouthful of dirt, so I thought I'd clean him up—"

"You should be glad Professor Snape did not see this." Professor McGonagall's tone was somewhat chilly, but she seemed to think of something and said to Harry, "Come with me, Mr. Potter."

Harry shrugged and followed her. He also felt that Slytherin's overly protective Head of House should not see something like this.

Only after Harry left did Draco dare to reveal a smug smile.

"See? Potter is going to be expelled." Draco said smugly. "Who's next?"

"I hope you have the nerve to say that to Harry's face instead of showing off behind his back." Hermione said with a look of contempt.

"You stinking little Mudblood—" Draco angrily turned toward Hermione. Before he could finish, pink soap bubbles spilled from his mouth again.

"That spell really is useful. It can wash that stinking mouth of yours." Hermione lowered her wand, her tone icy.

She could have stopped Draco from saying that word, but she felt it was necessary to wait until he said it before acting.

When Pansy saw Draco struck by the spell, she also drew her wand, ready to give Hermione a taste of her own medicine.

Fortunately, Madam Hooch returned in time and stopped the imminent battle between the two Houses.

Harry naturally had no idea what was happening there. He followed Professor McGonagall step by step toward the castle, still wondering what exactly she wanted to do.

He certainly would not be expelled. Harry was confident of that. He had not broken any fundamental school rules; on the contrary, he had even saved a student.

Soon, Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom.

"Sorry, Filius," Professor McGonagall said. "Could you send Wood out for a moment?"

Wood?

Harry thought in confusion. Was Professor McGonagall going to use a wooden cane to punish him?

After all, Hogwarts had used corporal punishment on students a hundred years ago. Back then, he had been fiercely struck several times with a cane by a professor for failing to finish his homework.

Then he saw a tall, handsome boy walk out of the room with a bewildered expression.

"Wood." Professor McGonagall folded her hands, and the stern air around her instantly vanished. "I've found you a Seeker!"