Flying Lesson

Taking advantage of the lunch break, Brie lay on his bed and began reading the notes from the Master of the Turret. Some of the spells within were quite useful, while others were either lost to time or simply impractical. He took the opportunity to learn Levicorpus and its counter-curse—Grounding Bell.

With the enhancement of his natural magic, these spells would erupt with even greater power. Brie's strength had already seen a leap in improvement, and the magic within his body continued to grow steadily.

"Some of the older Slytherins are no longer my match, but the Little Snakes love to strike from the shadows. Who knows if they have any tricks up their sleeves... But if they come to provoke me again, I won't care about house harmony. Fists are the only rule."

After resting for a while, Brie waved his wand and cast Chronos Reveal. Seeing that it was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon, he prepared to head downstairs for class. Flight had always been a human dream, and wizards were inevitably obsessed with it, but riding a broomstick was simply too ridiculous. It was said that flying carpets were strictly prohibited by the Ministry of Magic, though he didn't know why—could it be for the sake of Quidditch matches?

He couldn't imagine a group of wizards flying around in the sky on broomsticks, chasing after something. Didn't their backsides hurt?

Brie had absolutely no interest in Quidditch and even felt that such a method of flight was meaningless. However, since Flying class was a mandatory course for first-years, and failing any subject at the end of the term meant repeating the year, he didn't want to be stuck on the lawn with a group of first-year brats, blankly waiting for Madam Hooch when he was a second-year.

Especially with that one guy who kept bragging about his Quidditch skills and claiming he could fly shoulder-to-shoulder with a Muggle airplane.

When did Malfoy become so childish?

Today's Quidditch lesson was shared with Gryffindor, which was perhaps the reason.

Brie glanced at the Little Lions of Gryffindor, seeing the skeptical expressions on Harry and Ron's faces regarding Malfoy's self-aggrandizement, and even overheard some of their discussion.

Of course, the jealousy in Ron's tone could not be ignored, while Harry looked very nervous, as if his performance in every class over the past week had been... less than satisfactory.

It shouldn't have mattered, but he was the Boy Who Lived, a Savior. Without sufficient strength to support one's reputation, fame sometimes didn't mean everything...

Brie's gaze shifted.

That sentence sounds like something someone said... Snape? Snape had been warning Harry Potter at the time. Brie thought he must be going crazy; that was the greasy old bat who constantly made trouble for Harry Potter.

Pushing the strange thoughts out of his mind, Brie happened to hear Hermione nearby, reciting the key points of flight theory. The girl was almost walking into the pile of snakes.

"Hermione?"

"Oh, Brie, I mean—is something wrong?"

Seeing Hermione's nervous appearance, Brie chuckled and said, "It's just a class. Even if you aren't good at it, it doesn't matter. There is a saying in the East that no one is perfect. Sometimes, flaws make a person seem more real and even more likable."

"Ah...?" Hermione looked at Brie, then pondered, "I heard that you sleep from the start of History of Magic to the end. Is that the kind of 'no one is perfect' you mean? ...It seems that people with flaws are indeed more likable. I heard the Ravenclaws who share classes with you Slytherins say that you were incredibly cute that day, and they all wanted to pinch your chubby little cheeks."

"They?"

"Mm, Ravenclaw always has more girls. Besides, what boy would want to pinch another boy's cheeks for no reason?"

Hermione seemed to calm down. Perhaps she thought that if the excellent Breeze Order had flaws, then she might... be able to surpass him by studying even harder!

This gave her a glimmer of hope. There was no helping it; Brie was just too strong in all the other subjects, and she had been so discouraged that she had lost her confidence.

"Heh, alright, as long as the ladies are happy. Besides, I don't think I'll get a very good grade in Flying class today. It's not that I don't like flying, it's just the brooms—you know, in the Muggle world, they are used for sweeping floors."

"Mm, no one is perfect, Brie. Don't be discouraged."

Brie watched as Hermione grinned from ear to ear, showing her front teeth while offering him comfort. He felt a bit helpless; did this girl not even try to hide her happiness?

He had no idea that Hermione was already beginning to look forward to the upcoming flight lesson.

She had completely forgotten her earlier lack of confidence, and her favorability toward broomstick flight—something she had originally considered dangerous—was skyrocketing.

Soon, all the young wizards were standing in the flying class area, where dozens of brooms were arranged in two rows.

Naturally, the Slytherins and Gryffindors exchanged silent glares, deep hostility evident in the eyes of both sides.

"These brooms are even worse than the ones in the stairwell." Brie was full of disdain. Millicent, the only one who dared to stand next to him, used her sturdy frame to block the attention of the other Little Snakes and whispered to Brie.

"I'm sorry, I was being watched by them at the time. They know about my family; my sister married a Muggle-born wizard. After I spoke to you in Potions class that day, they found out..."

"It's fine, Millicent, it's all in the past." Brie smiled on the surface, but his heart was cold. Brie didn't need an explanation; it was over anyway. Besides, he hadn't taken Millicent to heart. As long as she wasn't an enemy, that was fine, but they wouldn't become friends either.

"But you shouldn't come near me lately. Learning how to be a Slytherin is what you should be doing." Without strength, one could only follow the rules of the strong. This was something a Little Snake should learn. Brie had already jumped out of the upperclassmen's circle of rules and didn't want to get involved anymore; he only wanted to learn, not engage in schemes.

Millicent didn't speak. She wasn't stupid, but she was still sad. She was just an 11-year-old girl, after all. Perhaps if she had dared to risk danger to warn Brie back then, she wouldn't be left without a reason to approach him now.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?"

Madam Hooch had arrived. She was a capable woman with short hair, dressed in a comfortable and practical robe.

Her eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.

With her arrival, the group quickly organized themselves.

"Very good, stand in two rows and don't move around. Put your brooms down; that's not the rule. I am going to teach you from the very basics..."

"Hmph." Malfoy threw his broom on the ground. It seemed the person who had been so enthusiastic just a moment ago wasn't him, and this person who now looked at the broom with its twigs tangled in a mess was his true self.

"Now, extend your right hand, place it above your broomstick, stand straight, and don't hunch!"

Madam Hooch scanned every face before continuing: "Then say: 'Up!' You have to trust your broom!"

"Up!" Everyone began to experiment. Malfoy and Harry immediately made their brooms rise, and some of the young wizards who had played with brooms before also succeeded one after another.

Strangely, Hermione was the third, and she had started later than both Malfoy and Harry.

Hermione looked at Brie and held her head high with pride.

Brie turned his head away, ignoring her, and shouted at the broom on the ground: "Up!"

The broom rolled twice on the ground before slowly flying up, as if it were angry.

What are you angry about?!

Looking at the ragged broom in his hand, Brie resisted the urge to throw it away. He didn't know what qualifications this broom had to be angry, but this must be an alchemical product, right?

Breeze, now intrigued, felt a sudden urge to take it apart and see how it worked.

However, seeing it tremble as if it were about to fall to pieces, he temporarily abandoned the thought; at the very least, publicly destroying school property would result in a deduction of house points, or even a fine, and he had heard that this thing wasn't cheap.

"Right, now we shall begin by learning the proper hand gesture for holding a broom... those students who haven't picked up their brooms yet, crouch down and pick them up."

Following Madam Hooch's instructions, Breeze quickly mastered the method of holding a broom for flight.

"I like this kind of flying even less." Breeze straddled the broom, sighed after feeling the discomfort, and the fact that Malfoy not far away had just been scolded for his own unique way of holding a broom didn't make Breeze feel any better.

"Now, listen to my command. When I count to three, kick off from the ground with all your might!"

"One, two..."

"Ah!" With a panicked cry, a figure was seen shooting up into the sky on a broomstick.

"Come back, child!"

It was Neville Longbottom, standing right next to Hermione!

He hadn't paid the slightest attention to Madam Hooch below; he was far too reckless.

"Ah!!!"

Well, watching Neville turn pale as he flipped and tumbled in the air, constantly slamming into the castle walls and rising higher and higher, Breeze realized that the broom seemed to have lost control—what a fool!

After a moment's thought, Breeze drew his wand and aimed it at Neville.

Was Madam Hooch a Squib? How could she not use magic, instead just running around frantically following Neville's erratic broom?

Just then, Neville could no longer hold onto his broom and plummeted from the sky.

"Whoosh!"

"Ah!"

"Levicorpus!" Breeze's spell struck Neville instantly, leaving him dangling upside down in mid-air just before he could hit the ground.

Neville was startled by the sudden inversion, and tears began to stream down his face uncontrollably.

Breeze had done it on purpose; the boy needed to learn a lesson. Don't expect him to use a Levitation Charm to save Neville gently—Breeze wasn't close with Neville, and compared to a broken head and bleeding, this was already a very good outcome; he was merely...

"Oh, Merlin." Madam Hooch trotted toward Neville, and only as she was about to speak did she realize Neville was hanging upside down.

"Grounding Bell." Neville was dropped to the ground, though the short distance didn't cause him any injury.

"Right, you must thank this young gentleman. Now..." Madam Hooch looked at Breeze's robes and said, "Ten points to Slytherin. Now I must take him to the hospital wing; all of you stay here and don't..."

Seeming to spot a tall boy not far away, Madam Hooch called out, "Mr. Oliver Wood, please do me a favor and watch over this lot; they are only allowed to fly at low altitudes."

With that, she led the sobbing Neville toward the castle.

Changing the update schedule. I will post two chapters every morning at six o'clock, and none in the afternoon.