Regarding Flying Class 2

All afternoon, the lawn was filled with screams, laughter, the whoosh of out-of-control brooms, and Madam Hooch's overlapping commands.

Someone fell into a mud pit, someone crashed into a tree trunk, someone started crying mid-flight ("Mum! What do I do?!"), and someone tried to pat their broom's rear like a horse—only to be punished by copying the Flight Safety Code three times.

But no one gave up.

When the setting sun dyed the lawn gold and red, Lyria finally mustered the courage to lift her broom to the height of two stories. She closed her eyes, gripping tightly, her lips moving slightly as if whispering to the wind.

And the wind seemed to answer her—the broom stopped trembling and hovered steadily in midair. A dandelion seed drifted past her feet, riding the breeze away.

Not far off, Yulian was practicing "slow approach" over and over. He no longer chased bursts of speed, but focused on every tiny turn, every inch of distance control. His movements were still quick, but now carried a steady rhythm.

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Golden-haired Hannah slid off the back of her broom, landing hard on her rear, but she laughed, wiped the sweat from her face, and without hesitation climbed back on and took off again.

Madam Hooch stood at the edge of the field, watching these bedraggled but stubborn young wizards, and finally a genuine smile tugged at her lips.

"Remember this feeling," she called out. "In the magical world, no one is born knowing how to fly. Quidditch stars or ordinary witches and wizards—everyone starts by falling into the mud, getting stuck in trees, and being toyed with by their brooms."

She paused, her gaze sweeping over Lyria, Yulian, Kayson, Hannah... every sweaty forehead with eyes that still shone bright.

"Talent decides how fast you can fly, but hard work decides how far and how high you go."

The evening breeze swept across the lawn, and the brooms swayed gently, as if nodding in agreement.

On a distant tower, Cho Chang and Roger leaned against the railing, watching.

"You were right about that black-haired kid, Yulian," Roger said suddenly. "Incredible speed, but too reckless. If he makes the team, I'll train him myself."

Cho Chang smiled. "Don't rush, Roger. They've only just left the ground."

"But some people," Roger murmured, watching Yulian hover perfectly in front of the Quaffle once more, "are born for the sky."

At dinner, the Hogwarts Great Hall blazed with light. Hundreds of candles floated above, casting a shimmering glow over the gold-rimmed plates and goblets.

The air was thick with the aroma of roast chicken, pumpkin pie, and hot butterbeer.

Yulian, Kayson, and Edgar had just sat down at a table when they heard a familiar voice behind them: "Hey! Yulian! Over here!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were waving at them. They all moved to the end of the table and sat down next to Harry and the others.

"How was your afternoon flying lesson?" Ron asked, piling mashed potatoes onto his plate, eyes bright. "Ours this morning was wild."

"Don't even mention it!" Kayson jumped in, dramatically clutching his chest. "I almost got sacrificed to the Willow Spirit by my broom! But—" he puffed out his chest, "I can now do a three-second hover! I'll be on the Ravenclaw team in no time!"

"You mean 'stuck in a tree for three seconds before Madam Hooch rescued you with a Levitation Charm'?" Edgar mercilessly exposed him.

Everyone burst out laughing.

"Speaking of which, those Slytherins with Malfoy were really infuriating this morning." Hermione recounted their morning flying lesson.

"So that's why Neville wasn't around—he got hurt. Is he okay?" Edgar asked.

"Should be fine, uh..." Ron choked on a potato.

Hermione shot him a look and continued, "His wrist was broken, but Madam Hooch said Madam Pomfrey at the hospital wing can fix the bones overnight."

"We'll go see him after dinner," Ron said, washing down the potato with a gulp of water. "And tell him the good news."

"What good news?" Hermione said crossly. "That you got into a fight with the Slytherins?"

"But we won!" Ron and Harry both lifted their heads proudly.

The little Ravenclaw eagles exchanged glances, thinking, Are Gryffindor and Slytherin lessons always this intense?

"Of course that's not what I meant. I meant Harry making the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Uh-oh!" Ron clapped a hand over his mouth as if he'd let something slip.

Harry quickly explained to Yulian and the others, "It's fine telling you. Just don't let the Slytherins know. Wood—our team captain—wants to keep me as a secret weapon."

"What?!" Edgar nearly dropped his fork. "First year?! That's impossible! School rules say..."

"I know, I know," Harry said, his face flushing slightly. "But Professor McGonagall said... special circumstances."

As he hesitated, wondering how to explain, Ron jumped in. "You should've seen it! This morning, Malfoy stole Neville's Remembrall and threw it. Harry chased it on his broom, pulled a Lansky Feint, and scooped it up from the bottom. It was awesome!"

"Yeah, and he nearly broke his neck!" Hermione added.

"I didn't even know what a Feint was at the time," Harry said, clearly missing Hermione's sarcasm. "I just acted on instinct, and Professor McGonagall happened to see it."

"Mate, that's so cool! How did you do it?" Kayson was full of admiration.

"Honestly, it was my first time flying a broom too. I found out..." Harry's face was bright red, still lost in the joy of flying. "The sky isn't that scary. As long as you go with the airflow, you can move freely."

"Talent! That's pure talent!" Ron declared on behalf of his friend.

This time Hermione didn't argue. Instead, she nodded thoughtfully. "That actually matches some ancient records on flight meditation. The Valkyries were said to ride their flying horses by resonating with the air currents."

Yulian was about to add a compliment when Harry suddenly lowered his voice. "Too bad I didn't knock that Malfoy off his broom and make him taste a broken arm too!"

"What?! You meant to?!" Hermione's voice shot up in shock.

"He deserved it! I wish he'd broken his nose too!" Ron gritted his teeth. "It's all that Rosier's fault for ruining it!"

"Rosier? Elizabeth Rosier? What did she do?" Yulian asked, puzzled.

"I didn't hit him," Harry shook his head. "Right when Malfoy was about to fall, Rosier flew over and grabbed him. Her movements... really fast, really steady."

"I don't like Slytherins either, but I have to say, thank goodness for that Rosier today," Hermione said. "If not for her, you two would be in huge trouble. And she just left right after saving him. Didn't acknowledge Malfoy's thanks, didn't get involved in the fight between the two houses afterward."

Ron immediately snorted dismissively. "Pfft! They're birds of a feather! I heard House Rosier is very close with the Malfoy family. Both families followed two generations of Dark Lords—how could they be good people?"

Yulian was silent for a few seconds, then spoke slowly. "So Elizabeth acted under those circumstances, which means her flying skills are excellent too, and... she didn't take credit, nor did she join the fight with you afterward. That shows she has at least basic judgment and... restraint."

"You're actually speaking up for a Slytherin?" Ron's eyes went wide.

Hermione also looked at Yulian, a hint of confusion in her gaze, along with something vaguely unreadable. "Elizabeth? Are you that familiar with her?"

"Yulian, she's a Rosier—maybe you don't know, but her family has produced countless dark wizards throughout history!" Ron pressed on.

Yulian set down his knife and fork, his tone calm. "I'm not defending anyone. I'm just saying, judge by deeds, not intentions. Saving someone is saving someone, no matter how complicated the motive. If we deny every good deed someone does just because they come from a dark background, then what's the difference between us and those blood-purist lunatics who only care about lineage?"

The Great Hall fell silent for a moment. Even Kayson forgot to brag.

Hermione opened her mouth as if to argue, but in the end she just pressed her lips together and looked down at her carrots.

She wasn't unreasonable—in fact, she understood reason better than most. But the way Yulian had just referred to that Rosier girl seemed...

Harry, however, looked thoughtful. "Actually... she does seem different from other Slytherins. Aside from looking a bit haughty, she never hangs out with Malfoy and his lot, and she's quiet in class."

"A quiet snake is the most dangerous!" Ron muttered.