No Comparison, No Pain

Andrew suspected Madam Hooch was playing some kind of bait-and-switch game with him, but he didn't dare say a word about it.

He had lost his composure—he had to admit that.

Compared with the other students, he wanted to fly much more badly.

Still, his steady performance on the way back earned him no special treatment. He began the most basic flying exercises alongside everyone else.

Fly steadily, then climb and land.

Next came flying in a straight line, climbing, and landing. After that came turning, climbing, and landing—every new maneuver ended with another stretch of flight and a landing.

The flying instructor took off and landed alongside them, pointing out mistakes as soon as she spotted them.

"All right. Now we need someone to demonstrate every maneuver we've just covered. Who's willing?"

Several hands went up at once. In the end, Madam Hooch chose Andrew. He might have done something reckless at the start, but at least he had shown that he could bring his broom to a steady stop and land.

"Ready—go!"

At her command, Andrew pushed off firmly with both legs and rose smoothly into the air. He thought a one-legged takeoff might let him veer in a chosen direction, but he wasn't about to try a stunt he hadn't tested.

"Good. Climb again!

"Fine. Fly straight for a bit!

"Turn left!

"Straight ahead—that's it, over this way. Turn again!

"Lose some altitude!

"Climb, then level out! Stop!

"That's enough. Land!"

Andrew floated down as lightly as a feather. Even after reaching the ground, he kept his broom hovering just above it.

"Perfect. Two points to Ravenclaw."

Come on, Professor, give me a few more. That only puts us back where we started!

But no more points came. Instead, another eager student got a turn at the demonstration.

Andrew, however, was allowed to practice on his own at low altitude—no higher than ten feet. He promptly stopped watching the others and began experimenting with his broom.

Abrupt stops, sharp climbs, trying to grip the broom and fly backward inches above the ground, pushing off with one leg to turn... At last, all the tricks he'd thought of had somewhere to go.

Apart from a rapid dive and pull-up, which he ruled out without a second thought, he tried every trick he could think of. He hit the ground a few times along the way, but he just dusted himself off and got back up.

"Hahaha..."

When Andrew fell off his broom yet again, a student finally burst out laughing. Madam Hooch glanced over, confirmed that Andrew had stayed below the height limit, and paid him no further attention.

"Looks like I overestimated the danger..."

Andrew rubbed his aching backside, picked up the broom, called it to his hand again, and started his next experiment.

The results were obvious. Before class ended, he tried the entire flight sequence again, and this time he was so steady he might as well have been glued to the broom.

"That's remarkably quick. After one more lesson, you can try flying at a moderate height or at high speed. You're learning very quickly. If you keep it up, you could try applying for the House team in your second year—provided you perform just as well in your later Quidditch training."

Madam Hooch finally awarded Ravenclaw another three points and praised Andrew without reservation.

I'll pass on the House team...

Andrew had no desire to play Quidditch. Transfiguration alone could swallow every spare hour of his first year, and he still had to submit work regularly without letting the quality slip. He simply had no time left.

He gave no sign of that, though. Madam Hooch went on to say that if he trained consistently and gained enough experience on the House team, she could recommend him for a trial with a League team after his OWLs year.

It's a good offer. If Voldemort dies, that could be an option...

By the time she finished acknowledging Andrew's progress, class was almost over.

"Students who still haven't learned to control their brooms reliably may come on weekends and request one for practice. Members of the upper-year flying club will supervise you. But any serious rule violation will mean an automatic fail in your first-year Flying class and a one-year ban on flying. If it happens again the following year, you can forget about touching a broom for the rest of your time at school.

"Students who excel at flying may also apply to practice on Sundays, but only after passing an assessment by a member of the flying club. That's all—class dismissed."

Madam Hooch drew her Wand. With a wave, the brooms obediently followed behind her like a company of soldiers awaiting inspection.

"That wasn't nearly as hard as I imagined."

"Told you," Bell said, looking relaxed himself. "Oh, Andrew, want to practice together this weekend?"

"Of course. I'm afraid I can only manage half a day, though. You know my little experiment has just reached a crucial stage."

Andrew needed to practice flying too. If he wanted to keep doing it, he would have to pass that assessment.

Luckily, there's still enough time...

Andrew thought that was the end of Flying class. Then, after leaving the Library, he heard some astonishing news at the dining table.

The afternoon Flying class had been a disaster...

The Gryffindor and Slytherin groups, whose tensions had begun to settle down, had clashed again during class.

The early exercises had gone smoothly enough. But once everyone was on their brooms practicing simple flight, the Slytherins used their head start—more of them had flown before—to perform insulting maneuvers over the heads of the Gryffindors who were still practicing cautiously.

Eventually, a Gryffindor named Neville tried to climb and ram one of them. The Slytherin student dodged easily, and when Neville tried to stop his broom, he made a mistake and fell off.

"He was nearly twenty feet up! Harry Potter—you know, the one everyone's heard of—charged in from way off, caught Neville, and came to a steady stop. The impact only broke one of his arms!"

"That's not all. He controlled the broom with his legs and used the hand holding it to snatch that Remembrall, or whatever it was, that Neville had dropped!"

"He did all that?"

Andrew joined the conversation.

"He sure did. Andrew, you're pretty good on a broom. Could you manage that?"

"I couldn't even pull someone up. No comparison. None at all."

Andrew shook his head at once. He had a little talent for flying, but he wouldn't dare dream of pulling off something that difficult without a year of training.

But why compare himself with Harry? He had made enormous progress that afternoon. After repeated tests, it seemed he could now keep the same object Transfigured for three times as long as before. All that remained was to test the result on a new object!

"I bet he's a sure thing for the House team in his second year. I'm so jealous... We probably won't be able to beat them at Quidditch after this."

"Yeah, yeah. No comparison. None at all," Andrew agreed.