Hermione's New Trick + Flying Class

Thursday arrived before they knew it.

Hermione was no longer worried, but the other young wizards were still full of anxiety.

Neville especially.

His knuckles had turned white from gripping his fork, and his round little face would not stop trembling.

It was as though Flying Broomsticks were terrifying monsters, even more frightening than Snape.

In his panic, Neville desperately turned to Hermione for advice on flying.

Hermione was tireless when it came to misleading people.

She combined the flying instructions from Quidditch Through the Ages with the pointers the twins had given her.

Then she endlessly stuffed Neville full of her so-called "key points."

In summary, though, it came down to just two words—"balance."

When Hermione mentioned the technical term "horizontal inclination angle" for the third time,

Brook could not bear to watch any longer.

"Neville, instead of studying all those complicated theories, you should trust Snape and Madam Pomfrey."

Neville looked utterly confused, adorably so.

"As long as you don't die, they should be able to save you."

Neville was practically crying.

"Brook!"

Hermione's little hand reached for the soft flesh at Brook's waist.

Then, as if she had learned it without a teacher and honed it through countless trials, she gave it a hard twist.

"Hiss!" Brook sucked in a sharp breath.

He stared at Hermione in shock, as though he were seeing her for the first time.

When had this little girl learned that move?

And how could she be so precise, steady, and ruthless?

Was this some innate skill all girls possessed?

Hermione, however, casually twirled a lock of hair with her other hand, as though what she had just done had been an illusion.

She comforted Neville. "Don't listen to Brook's nonsense. As long as you don't fly too high, even if you accidentally break an arm or a leg, it'll be healed soon enough... Oh, that's not what I meant. You'll definitely be fine, so don't worry."

After saying that, she bared her teeth and shot Brook a vicious glare, then twisted the soft flesh at his waist again.

"It's all your fault, Brook."

Brook was completely speechless.

But Neville did not remain upset for long, because an owl delivered him a Remembrall.

Neville picked up the Remembrall. "As long as I hold it tightly, if it turns red..."

His face immediately scrunched up like a bitter melon. "It means I've forgotten something."

"Neville, I think you forgot your schoolbag," Brook reminded him.

"Ah!" Neville shrieked and sprang to his feet.

He spun around and crashed headlong into Draco Malfoy, who had somehow suddenly appeared beside the Gryffindor table.

Without even looking at who he had run into, Neville hurriedly muttered, "Sorry," then rushed anxiously toward the tower.

Meanwhile, Draco sat on the floor with a baffled expression.

It was not until Goyle and Crabbe pulled him up that he came back to his senses, his face still full of confusion.

At three thirty in the afternoon, the sun shone brightly and a gentle breeze blew. It was a perfect day for flying.

The young lions and young snakes arrived at a flat patch of grass on the grounds.

Brook looked at the twenty-one Flying Broomsticks lined up neatly on the ground before them.

Just as the twins had said, they really were antiques.

The mildew seeping from the grain of the wood reminded him of the sign outside a secondhand shop in Diagon Alley.

Madam Hooch, who taught Flying Class and also refereed Hogwarts Quidditch matches,

stood before the group, sweeping her stern gaze over everyone.

"What are you waiting for? Stand beside your Flying Broomsticks."

Brook chose a broom that looked reasonably presentable and stood beside it.

"Hold out your right hand, then say, 'Up!'" Madam Hooch continued directing them.

While the other young wizards all loudly shouted, "Up!"

Brook did not know what came over him, but he blurted out, "Sword, come!"

The broom beside him acted as though it had not heard him—or perhaps it simply did not understand.

It did not move at all.

Most of the young wizards were in the same situation as him.

Only a few successfully summoned their brooms.

Hermione was one of them.

Hermione lifted her chin, her eyes curling into crescents as she looked smugly at Brook.

Her gaze seemed to say, Let's see if you still dare claim my theories are useless.

Brook jerked his chin toward Neville.

Neville's broom was equally motionless.

The meaning was obvious.

The student you taught isn't any good!

Hermione held out her little hand and made a twisting motion.

Brook could not be bothered to argue with a little girl, so he turned away and stopped looking at her.

Seeing that, Hermione grew even more pleased with herself.

That trick Cho Chang had taught her really was useful.

Though Cho Chang's expression had been a little strange when she taught it, somewhat like Hermione's aunt.

"If you keep playing dead, I'll send you to the kitchen as firewood."

Brook directly threatened it.

A broom actually dared to refuse to give him face.

Getting spoiled, were you?

With a whoosh, the broom leaped into Brook's hand.

"At least you know what's good for you."

Beside him, Neville was completely dumbfounded.

He was utterly awestruck.

His voice trembled slightly as he threatened his broom.

"U-Up... or I'll chop... chop you up for firewood."

The broom merely rolled over on the ground, dripping with mockery.

His little round face immediately scrunched into a ball, filled with disappointment.

Perhaps Madam Hooch was truly pressed for time.

Without checking whether everyone had successfully summoned their brooms, she moved straight on to the next lesson.

Brook and Hermione had previously been "trained" by the twins.

Their posture was extremely standard.

"When I blow the whistle, push off the ground. Flying one or two meters high is enough."

"Three, two..." Madam Hooch raised the whistle to her lips. "Come back, child."

Perhaps Neville was too nervous, or perhaps he was afraid of being the only one left on the ground.

Before the whistle sounded, he launched himself into the air and shot straight upward.

Brook gave Neville a thumbs-up.

He dared to do that because he had the life-saving skill of the Space Gate.

But he had not expected Neville to be so bold too. Truly worthy of Gryffindor.

However, everyone soon realized something was wrong.

As Neville continued flying upward, he began slipping off his broom.

Brook did like to hide his abilities, or rather, he was used to keeping something in reserve.

Perhaps it was because, as someone from Great Xia, he had humility and restraint ingrained in his bones.

But when it came to saving someone, he could not stand aside.

Spells definitely would not work.

Neville was moving too fast, making him impossible to aim at.

If only he had a hundred wands right now. Even without aiming, a full barrage would surely hit one target.

That was the advantage of having sufficient firepower.

Unfortunately, he did not have a hundred wands.

Brook took out his wand and waved it around for show.

The instant Neville let go, he formed two Space Gates—one beside himself and one directly beneath Neville.

Neville fell into the lower gate, then rolled out of the gate beside Brook.

After landing, Neville's face was pale and filled with terror. He did not dare open his eyes, and his body continued trembling.

As for why Brook had not used it during the incident with Hermione,

Brook said that Hermione had knocked him silly at the time, and he simply had not thought of it.

The young wizards around them were stunned by the perilous scene.

Some covered their mouths, their eyes wide;

others murmured among themselves, their faces full of worry;

and some were so frightened that they even took several steps back.

"Quiet!"

Madam Hooch's sharp shout made the Bowtruckles in the treetops collectively retreat into their hollows.

She hurried to Neville's side and carefully examined him.

Aside from some dirt on him, he did not appear to be injured.

But to be safe, she still decided to send Neville to the hospital wing.

"All right, the child is fine." She helped Neville to his feet.

"I'm taking him to the hospital wing. No one is to touch a broom! Otherwise, you can look forward to being expelled from Hogwarts."

Then she looked at Brook. "Thank you, child."

"Madam Hooch, it was what I should have done."

"You're a good child. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Neville's lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to thank Brook.

But he had not recovered from the fright and could not make a sound. He could only look at Brook with grateful eyes.

Brook said nothing, merely giving Neville an encouraging smile.

As soon as Madam Hooch left with Neville, the young wizards became as lively as unleashed huskies.

The young lions and young snakes had never gotten along well, and they immediately began fiercely trading insults.

It had the distinct feel of, "What are you looking at?" "Looking at you, so what?"

Brook directly pulled Hermione down to sit beside him and stuffed a handful of Chatter Sunflower Seeds into her hand.

They cracked Chatter Sunflower Seeds while watching the "spitting match" with great interest.

Chatter Sunflower was one of the ingredients used to make Veritaserum.

Only its flower stem was used, while the Chatter Sunflower Seeds were discarded.

Brook thought they looked like sunflower seeds, so he had asked Professor Sprout for some.

These were three times larger than ordinary sunflower seeds.

After being roasted, they carried a faint milky scent. They were fragrant and flavorful, with another unidentifiable aroma.

The only regret was that they could not eat too many, or they would easily start telling the truth.

"Eh!"

Draco ran onto the grass like a golden retriever and grabbed something.

"Isn't this that big idiot's Remembrall?"

"Give it back, Malfoy," Harry shouted.

In an instant, everyone's attention focused on the two of them.

They all wore expressions as though they were ready to enjoy some drama.

Only the sound of Brook cracking seeds occasionally rang out.

Draco's face twisted slightly. "Potter, what do you think about me putting it in a tree?"

"You..."

Draco ignored Harry completely and immediately acted, mounting his broom and flying into the air.

Faced with Draco's provocation, Harry naturally did not back down.

Without hesitation, he straddled his broom and chased after him.

Hermione had just opened her mouth when Brook stuffed a sunflower seed kernel into it.

"Brook, why are you stopping me? Harry will get expelled for this." Hermione sounded anxious.

"Relax and enjoy the show." Brook fed Hermione another sunflower seed kernel.

Hermione glared angrily at Brook, her cheeks puffed out with rage like an adorable little hamster.

So her sinful little hand reached for Brook's waist again.

Brook hurriedly said, "Have you forgotten Harry's reputation?"

Hermione's fingers rested on Brook's waist without moving, but her face was full of confusion.

"Harry's title as the Savior isn't just for show. Even if they expel both you and me, they won't expel Harry."

Although Hermione did not quite understand, she trusted Brook's judgment.

So she angrily chewed the sunflower seed kernels in her mouth, while her hand subconsciously gave him a twist.

"Hiss!"

This little girl was going crazy!

Did she really think Brook couldn't lift a stick anymore?

At that moment, everyone's attention had already been drawn to the "love-hate battle" playing out in the air.

Draco kept moving his mouth in front, taunting him, while Harry simply went straight to action.

He displayed the little lion's recklessness to the fullest.

Seeing that things were going badly, Draco tossed aside the Remembrall and made a tactical retreat.

Harry made a stylish vertical dive, chasing after the falling Remembrall.

Listening to Hermione's commentary, Brook's fists clenched unconsciously.

"Ah! Slower! Oh my God! No! Ah! Faster! Ah! Faster! Ah! No!"

Hermione even covered her eyes with her hands at the end, leaving only a tiny gap between her fingers to peek through.

Harry had just raised the Remembrall in his hand, not yet having the chance to properly show off.

When Professor McGonagall arrived and carried him away like a chick.

Brook brushed the sunflower seed shell fragments from his hands.

He stretched, then lay comfortably on the soft grass.

"Harry won't lose points, will he?" Hermione asked, her face full of worry.

"Probably not." Brook comfortably closed his eyes, feeling the gentle breeze brush across his face. "Do you remember what I told you?"

"What?"

"If Professor McGonagall were going to deduct points, she would have done it on the spot. Since she chose to take Harry away, she probably has other arrangements in mind," Brook explained.

Hermione was relieved.

As long as no points were deducted, that was fine.

As a girl, she naturally would not lie down directly like Brook.

But she supported herself with her hands on the ground, making herself sit a little more comfortably.

"What kind of magic was that just now?"

"A spatial portal. It suddenly appeared in my mind, um... kind of like a bloodline inheritance. I can't teach it to you."

Hermione did not ask any more questions, instead enjoying the tranquility brought by the breeze together with Brook.