Flying Lesson

It was noon by the time Wizet said goodbye to Hagrid and left the hut.

Before he left, Hagrid took advantage of his size and stuffed quite a few materials into his pockets.

Aside from unicorn tail hair, there were also plenty of materials he had not had time to identify.

Wizet felt as if his head were light and floating. His current state should be very suitable for the afternoon flying lesson.

"The weekend is almost here. With so many materials... I can study how to make a wand! Healing magic, the Animagus Professor McGonagall mentioned... I need to look into all of it."

There were still two lessons in the afternoon: Herbology, taught by Professor Sprout, and the flying lesson he had yet to experience.

Herbology was taught in the greenhouses, and first-years did not get to handle many kinds of magical plants.

Long before the start of term, Wizet had already learned quite a bit of related knowledge from Luna.

Whether it was digging soil, fertilizing, or tending plants, he handled it all with ease and even earned points from Sprout.

Not troubled for even a moment by the mud on him, Wizet packed up his textbooks and planned to head straight to the lawn, where the flying class would gather.

Chris hurriedly grabbed him. "Wizet, aren't you going back to wash up? It wouldn't be too good to go over like this, would it?"

The class sharing Herbology with them was Slytherin. A stocky black-haired girl suddenly spoke up. "That's exactly right! A filthy Obscurial can't be cleaned no matter how much he washes!"

Her tone was contemptuous, and she even folded her arms and raised her head, showing off her thick chin.

"Is that so? I thought that as a wizard, I could use a more magical method..." Wizet smiled faintly, drew his wand, and traced a beautiful S-shaped curve. "Scourgify!"

In the blink of an eye, all the mud on him vanished, and his clothes became clean and neat again.

He continued casting, casually helping his roommates clean off their mud as well.

He even spread out his hand and asked in a calm tone, "Do you need me to clean you up? Or perhaps you can do it yourself? Please."

The girl's face flushed the color of pig liver. "You..."

Seeing Wizet's courteous gesture, which nevertheless left the girl choking without a word, his roommates all burst out laughing.

"Millicent, it's time to go!" a thin-lipped girl cut in, walking straight past Wizet.

"Pansy, I was helping you..."

"Miss Bulstrode! Please address me by my surname. That will make you seem a little better bred!" Pansy snapped, leaving the greenhouse without looking back.

Millicent's expression grew even uglier, and there were even tears visible at the corners of her eyes.

She could no longer say a single word. Covering her face, she ran off quickly.

"What was all that about?" Terry asked curiously. "I wanted to ask you before. Why are they so hostile to you?"

"After all, he has the identity of an Obscurial," Anthony said with a frown. "It's fear and rejection of magic that makes someone an Obscurial, and those traits usually belong to Muggles."

"Slytherin believes in pure-blood supremacy and even looks down on wizards born to Muggles. I'm not surprised at all that something like this would happen."

"Too bad they don't know Wizet's magic!" Michael hooked an arm around Wizet's shoulder. "Why can you be friends with Cho Chang and know magic we don't understand? I'm so jealous!"

"I learned this spell from Cho Chang," Wizet explained. "The Scouring Charm. It's a very useful household spell. Do you want to learn it? I can lend you my notebook."

"Let's talk about it when we get back!" Michael waved his hands again and again. "The Flying Broomsticks might already be laid out. Let's go pick a good-looking one first!"

Since ancient times, people had been filled with yearning and curiosity for the sky.

It was precisely because of this yearning that all kinds of flying machines had appeared.

Wizards shared the same yearning, so they invented Flying Broomsticks, and from that even came a wizarding sport—Quidditch.

Madam Hooch was the professor for flying lessons. She was also a Quidditch referee, and Hogwarts's Quidditch matches were officiated by her.

She had arrived very early and had arranged the Flying Broomsticks on the ground in two rows.

"They look like an eagle's eyes!" Terry leaned over and muttered softly.

Madam Hooch had a neat head of short gray hair, and her two eyes were a special bright yellow, indeed just like eagle eyes.

Her eyesight was as sharp as an eagle's too. When she saw Michael pick up a broomstick, she swooped over instantly.

"Please put the broomstick back on the ground first! Even if you know how to use a Flying Broomstick, please wait until class begins and pick it up according to my instructions."

"Hiss!" As if he had been shocked, Michael dropped the Flying Broomstick back onto the ground. "Sorry! Madam Hooch!"

"Ahem..." Madam Hooch coughed lightly twice, showing a little embarrassment. "I should be the one apologizing... I was a bit too sensitive."

"Yesterday afternoon, I taught flying to the other two houses, and one of the children had an accident, so I have to be more careful!"

Michael and the others gathered together and asked in confusion, "Who was it?"

"It was Neville, Gryffindor's Neville Longbottom," Hannah's voice sounded. "He broke his wrist falling. It must have hurt quite a bit."

More and more Hufflepuffs gathered over. They knew quite a few anecdotes from around the school and eagerly began sharing them.

"Draco Malfoy seemed to have taken Neville Longbottom's thing... Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had a clash... Harry Potter became the Seeker..."

Michael and the others were even more baffled. "What's all this? How did he become the Seeker? Aren't Quidditch tryouts only starting this weekend?"

As the class bell rang, Madam Hooch clapped her hands and shouted loudly, "Since everyone is here, we'll begin today's lesson."

"First, stand beside a Flying Broomstick. Remember! Do not touch it with your hands under any circumstances! Then wait for my next instruction!"

The students did as they were told, caught between laughter and tears. They all felt Madam Hooch was being a little too nervous.

"Good! Move the hand closest to your Flying Broomstick over, then don't move yet... Wait for my next instruction!"

After the students cooperated, Madam Hooch continued, "You shout 'Up,' and when the Flying Broomstick flies into your palm, grab it! Then stop!"

"Wait for your next instruction," the students said somewhat helplessly.

"Yes! That's it!" Madam Hooch nodded. "We have to take it step by step to avoid accidents."

After a chorus of "Up," not everyone managed to grasp their Flying Broomstick.

For students from Hufflepuff, their Flying Broomsticks would roll around on the ground twice before slowly flying into their hands.

Hannah's Flying Broomstick seemed to be broken. It did not react at all, making her face flush bright red with anxiety.

Perhaps because they lived somewhere higher up, Ravenclaw did much better. As long as they called a few more times, the Flying Broomsticks would answer their voices.

Wizet's Flying Broomstick, on the other hand, was very obedient. He had not even shouted aloud; the thought had only just crossed his mind when the Flying Broomstick shot swiftly into his hand.