Neville's Flying Adventure

The strange experience left Goyle with no choice but to rest off to the side under Madam Hooch's forceful insistence. Even the broom assigned to him had entered a state of rest.

Malfoy's expression was unpleasant, because Ron Weasley and Harry kept glancing at him, whether deliberately or not.

More importantly, Madam Hooch seemed to have her eye on him as well, occasionally shooting looks his way.

"Now, I'll demonstrate it for everyone."

"You must not only learn how to summon your broomsticks, but also how not to slide off after getting on them."

"Do you understand now?"

"Pay attention to how you grip the handle. This is crucial."

Madam Hooch's instruction was exceptionally thorough and rigorous.

Harry and the others watched carefully. After seeing Madam Hooch demonstrate how to fly into the air, they were all eager to give it a try.

But without Madam Hooch's command, they did not dare move, because it could cost their House points.

"Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing? Do you want to fly into the air and then fall down again, just to experience being smashed to pieces?"

"Watch your technique. One careless mistake could cost you your life."

Madam Hooch came to Malfoy's side and smacked the back of his hand, looking both angry and stern.

Malfoy's hand hurt from the slap, and his broomstick fell to the ground as a result.

Harry, Ron Weasley, and the others all laughed at the sight, though they did not dare laugh aloud and had to hold it in uncomfortably.

Malfoy's expression darkened, but he had no choice but to quickly pick up his broomstick and correct his grip as Madam Hooch had instructed.

Madam Hooch glanced at Malfoy before continuing her inspection. When she came to the Gryffindors, Harry, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and the others were all doing quite well.

But when she reached Neville's side, Madam Hooch frowned slightly.

Neville was extremely nervous. It was not only because Madam Hooch was watching him, but also because of the unease in his heart. He always felt that he had done something wrong, and his sweaty palms only made him more anxious.

Madam Hooch said nothing and turned to leave. Neville finally let out a breath of relief.

"You're all doing fairly well. In a moment, when I blow my whistle, push off with both legs and leave the ground. Remember, push hard!"

Madam Hooch swept her gaze across everyone and said solemnly, "Hold your brooms steady, handles pointing up. Once you rise several feet, lean forward slightly, point the handle downward, and return vertically to the ground. But remember, when you are about to land, raise the handle slightly. Otherwise, you will have an intimate encounter with the ground, and I doubt any of you want to experience the consequences."

"Now, listen for my whistle. Three, two..."

Yet just as everyone prepared to make their dreams of flying come true the moment she said "one," Neville was so nervous that he feared he would fail to take off. Before Madam Hooch could blow the whistle, he kicked off hard and shot into the air.

"Come down at once, Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch shouted as she watched Neville.

Harry and the others were somewhat curious at Neville's display. What was this?

Neville actually had such a remarkable talent for flying? He could control a broomstick and take off so quickly?

Very soon, however, their curiosity and admiration turned to worry, because Neville could not control his broomstick.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Harry said worriedly.

"Me too!" Ron Weasley said, clearly thinking of the same thing.

"What?" Hermione Granger asked in confusion.

At that moment, Neville could not hear anything anyone was saying.

He was far too panicked, and the broomstick had already carried him into the sky.

Within two breaths, he had soared a hundred meters into the air. To Neville's horrified gaze, he crashed toward a tall tower, and everyone could not help closing their eyes.

Neville was going to die!

Neville also thought he was going to die. He clutched the broomstick tightly, yet miraculously, the broomstick bounced like a rocket-powered rubber ball, carrying him as it ricocheted off the tower several times before rebounding and plunging straight toward the ground.

It was too straight, too fast.

Neville felt as though his poor little heart was being pushed beyond its limits. Even his thick layers of fat could no longer support that overstimulated heart, and a piercing scream rang out.

"Oh, heavens, I have to stop him." Madam Hooch pulled out her wand, preparing to bring Neville to a halt.

But Neville was moving too fast. As he neared the ground, despite desperately raising the broom, he flew uncontrollably toward Harry and the others.

Madam Hooch had no time to cast a spell and could only dodge aside.

"Move!"

Harry screamed, and everyone scattered. This was extremely dangerous.

Neville shot through the crowd, through the passageway arch, and flew toward somewhere farther away and higher up.

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and the other Slytherins burst into laughter at the sight.

"Oh, is this the brave lion?"

"God, he looks like nothing more than a frightened little mouse now, screaming nonstop."

"A frightened mouse!"

Naturally, Malfoy would not miss the chance to humiliate Gryffindor. Just moments ago, they had been thoroughly humiliated by Gryffindor.

Thus, more unpleasant remarks followed.

Harry shot Malfoy and the others a fierce glare, then led the Gryffindors through the passageway arch and chased after Neville.

Neville screamed as he flew into the air, only for his clothes to catch on the long spear held by a statue. His broomstick flew toward the Forbidden Forest and vanished, while Neville was left hanging from the spear, his whole body falling into a brief daze.

Riiip!

The sound of tearing cloth rang out, and Neville immediately panicked.

He looked up at his clothes, watching them tear apart bit by bit, and his mind went blank.

The next moment, his clothes could no longer bear his weight, and he fell rapidly. Seeing the pointed iron cage below, used to hold burning coals for illumination, Neville screamed in terror again, "Harry!"

One slip, and it would take his life.

Harry, who had just run out through the passageway arch, saw the scene and his expression changed. He quickly pulled out his wand and shouted, "Wind, dance!"

A spell flew forth. He had thought it would save Neville, but because he was too anxious, he lost his aim, and the wind failed to catch Neville.

Fortunately, the wind slowed Neville down somewhat. He missed the sharp object, and his clothes caught on it again, cushioning the impact of his fall.

Bang!

The torn clothing ripped apart once more. Just as Harry was about to cast another spell, Neville had already fallen to the ground.

"Neville!" Harry rushed forward, about to help Neville up from the ground.

"Stop!" Madam Hooch ran up behind him and shouted.

Harry immediately froze, only able to watch as Madam Hooch carefully turned Neville over.

"Good heavens, his wrist is broken. You poor child!"

"But fortunately, you are lucky. At least you're still alive."

Madam Hooch examined Neville's condition and then exclaimed.

Neville did not know what to think.

His first flying lesson had been utterly terrible.

This strange experience had frightened him even more.

Two trails of tears ran down his pale face as he murmured, "Why am I always the one who gets hurt?"

Madam Hooch comforted Neville with a smile. "Poor child, don't be afraid. Your hand will heal soon enough."

Then Madam Hooch swept her gaze over Harry, Malfoy, and the others. "Now, I need to take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. You will wait here obediently, put your broomsticks on the ground, and do not move."

"Otherwise, I will make him regret it."

"I assume none of you want to miss Quidditch and be expelled from Hogwarts."

With that, Madam Hooch left with the limping Neville.

At that moment, Malfoy picked up Neville's Remembrall from the ground nearby, a mocking smile appearing on his face.

Harry, our game should begin.