A Pious Believer Added to the Collection

Young Master Malfoy had indeed transferred schools.

On Tuesday afternoon, during the joint flying lesson for Gryffindor and Slytherin, Zhang San did not see Draco Malfoy anywhere. After asking around, he learned that Malfoy had packed his luggage and left Hogwarts on Monday.

"Ugh... why did Malfoy leave when everything was fine? He just got soaked in water... was that really enough to make him leave?" Zhang San grumbled resentfully.

Harry and Ron recalled someone's brutality that night. How could this guy say something so coldhearted?

Oh, he was a ghost. Never mind, then.

Hogwarts flying lessons taught students how to handle flying broomsticks. For Zhang San, this class was a complete waste of time—because he could fly on his own.

Madam Hooch also knew Zhang San did not need to learn this stuff, so she assigned him a task: help her supervise the young wizards and make sure they did not fly improperly.

Hogwarts' training brooms were truly ancient. If the young wizards looked carefully enough, they could definitely find antiques their fathers had once used.

"Up!"

"Up!"

"Up!"

The young wizards stood beside their brooms and shouted their commands. Some brooms wobbled on the ground, while others rose half a foot into the air before falling back down.

Harry Potter succeeded on his first try. Just as he was about to turn and show Zhang San his accomplishment, he saw Zhang San surrounded by several broomsticks.

Zhang San sincerely apologized to several nearby students with an innocent expression. "It really isn't my fault. These brooms came over by themselves..."

While all the young wizards were shouting "Up," Zhang San had quietly joined in. He had not known until he tried, but one shout had summoned five or six broomsticks straight to him.

It seemed that the soul body of a ghost cultivator could better trigger magical resonance in magical items. Otherwise, there was no explanation for why so many flying brooms had answered his call.

Several young wizards wordlessly dragged their brooms away from Zhang San.

"Harry, were you calling for me just now?" After escaping the brooms' entanglement, Zhang San floated over to Harry Potter and asked.

Harry kept a straight face and waved him away. "Not me. I didn't. Stay away!"

He did not want the broom he had worked so hard to summon to get stolen by Zhang San. Wasn't that basically NTR? A pure-love warrior could not bear such a thing.

"Oh..." Zhang San left dejectedly and continued helping Madam Hooch supervise the students.

There were forty or fifty students in Gryffindor and Slytherin combined, and it was exhausting for Madam Hooch to keep an eye on all of them by herself.

With Zhang San as her assistant, Madam Hooch immediately felt far less pressure during class.

While patrolling, Zhang San was surprised to discover that he seemed to have the ability to control every flying broom. No matter whose hands held the broom or whose backside was sitting on it, Zhang San could instantly seize control.

As long as Zhang San could see a broom, it would obey his commands completely. He had secretly tried controlling brooms held by others more than once, and every attempt had been a great success.

In that case... whether Quidditch was chaotic or not would be up to me, Zhang!

This ability had to be kept hidden. It would definitely be extremely useful at a critical moment.

It was worth mentioning that Neville's flying broom still ended up malfunctioning. A flying broom was a mind-controlled flying tool, and Neville's brain had been damaged by a Memory Charm when he was young, so it often malfunctioned.

Neville might look foolish and dull-witted normally, but his mind was full of bizarre and ever-changing scenes. It was perfectly normal for a flying broom to go haywire in his hands.

Fortunately, the school training brooms were outdated, slow to respond, and difficult to control. Otherwise, Neville might have flown off to who knew where by now.

Harry Potter also displayed astonishing flying talent at that moment. With one push of his feet, he mounted his broom and shot into the sky like an arrow leaving its bow, chasing after Neville's broom in an attempt to rescue him.

"Neville, give me your hand!" Harry shouted at Neville.

Neville clung tightly to the broom handle and did not dare move. No matter how Harry Potter shouted, he gave no response.

So one of them flew around wildly while the other chased desperately behind him. One moment they performed cobra maneuvers in the air, the next they rolled and spiraled. The young wizards on the ground watched in excitement, while Harry chased until his forehead was covered in sweat.

Professor McGonagall saw Harry Potter chasing Neville through her office window and immediately felt that the boy had potential.

To fly so skillfully on his very first encounter with a flying broom was clearly no ordinary talent.

Gryffindor's Quidditch team had been down and out for a long time and desperately needed fresh blood. Harry Potter might only be a first-year student, but making him a Seeker who hovered around the edges would not disrupt Gryffindor's overall tactical setup.

Seekers were jokingly called the street roamers of the Quidditch pitch. Their role seemed important, but it was not actually that important. Their only task was to find the Golden Snitch and end the match, making them peripheral figures on the field. The tactical coordination required by Beaters and Chasers generally did not involve Seekers at all.

That was why Lucius Malfoy could donate brooms in Draco's second year to secure him a Seeker position on the house team—because that position had the least tactical impact.

When Zhang San saw Professor McGonagall close the window, he quietly severed the connection between Neville and his broom, then made the broom obey his commands and descend slowly.

Neville's legs went weak when he landed. He swore that he would never ride a flying broom again. He truly was not suited for this thing; his uncontrollable thoughts would make a broom fly all over the place and cause a disaster.

Madam Hooch noticed this as well and decisively went to the castle to ask Headmaster Dumbledore to exempt Neville from flying lessons. Neville Longbottom was extremely unsuited to flying classes.

Poor Neville. For the rest of his life, he could only bid farewell to flying into the blue sky on his own. Every kind of flying magical tool was mind-controlled, and his brain simply could not handle them.

Therefore, the things best suited for him to learn were the unhurried art of Herbology and swordsmanship for training his body. This was the path Neville Longbottom—the future Gryffindor Sword Saint and future Head of Hufflepuff—should take.

"Are you all right, Neville?" Zhang San poured Neville a cup of hot water to calm him down.

Neville asked curiously, "Where did the hot water come from?"

"Aguamenti combined with Incendio, then use Transfiguration to make a cup by hand—magic is just that convenient." Zhang San smiled.

Neville drank his water and asked, "Am I very stupid?"

"Everything has its own value. Even a piece of toilet paper or a pair of underwear has its purpose. Your talent isn't in flying. You could consider growing some things to cultivate your character," Zhang San suggested.

Neville said dejectedly, "I can't do anything right. Maybe I'll even end up killing the potted plant."

Zhang San encouraged him, "Don't be afraid. I'm here. If the plant isn't growing well, come find me at the temple and pray to me. As long as it's not completely beyond saving, I can make it thrive again."

With Zhang San's assurance, Neville finally perked up. Maybe he really did have a talent for Herbology?

The moment Zhang San saw Neville's expression, he beamed—one more devout believer. Neville Longbottom was kind-hearted and had none of those crooked thoughts. As a believer, he was worth several ordinary ones. He was definitely a fine, high-quality leek...

Ahem, a high-quality believer!