Jerry looked in the mirror at the Patronus perched above his head, his expression turning strange.
Most wizards' Patronuses were connected to someone they loved deeply. Severus Snape's Patronus was a doe because he loved Lily; Nymphadora Tonks's was a wolf because she loved Lupin.
Did I really like Tom that much?
The raven's blood-red eyes sent a chill down Jerry's spine. He could not understand why the Patronus Charm, a spell of light, had summoned a Patronus with such frightening eyes.
Professor Flitwick was studying the Patronus's eyes too. He found them strange as well.
Flitwick had never seen a Patronus with such a terrifying gaze, and he could not help feeling uneasy.
But after discussing it, he and Jerry still reached no conclusion. In the end, Professor Flitwick guessed that it might have something to do with Jerry's talent.
After all, Jerry had succeeded on his first attempt at the Patronus Charm, surpassing many older wizards.
"Professor Flitwick, what would happen if someone cast the Patronus Charm with malice?"
Rather than answer directly, Professor Flitwick smiled at Jerry and asked, "Jerry, what do you think magic is?"
Jerry thought for a moment. "Professor Flitwick, I think magic is a mysterious force that can grant people's wishes."
"Whether they're using Transfiguration or another kind of magic, wizards wield that force through their wands to change the world around them as they wish. A spell is like telling that mysterious force what they want and hoping for the desired result."
Professor Flitwick's eyes shone with appreciation. "A wonderful analogy, and remarkably apt. That's why no one can cast the Patronus Charm with malice: it would contradict the very 'wish' behind it."
Jerry nodded. The same principle explained why casting Dark Magic required a wizard to harbor intense malice.
Although Jerry never figured out what was wrong with the raven Patronus's eyes, he had gained plenty from the visit. When he opened his system panel, the spell section now showed: Patronus Charm Lv1, 37.6%. With a teacher's guidance, progress was fast. A few more practice sessions should be enough to level it up.
After leaving Professor Flitwick's office, Jerry did not return to his dormitory. He headed straight for the lawn outside Hogwarts Castle, where Hermione, Harry, and Ron were already waiting.
Since the previous week, Harry and Ron had been talking Jerry's ear off about how eager they were to ride broomsticks through the sky.
To be honest, though, Jerry had little interest in such an uncomfortable way to fly. He found it baffling that wizards possessed such marvelous magic yet had so few forms of entertainment. Apart from the dangerous sport of Quidditch, there seemed to be nothing else.
"Jerry, you're back! How did your lesson with Professor Flitwick go?"
Jerry answered with perfect confidence. "Hermione, are you doubting my talent?"
Hermione grew excited and grabbed his hand. "You've learned it already? Show me!"
"I'll show you one night. It even comes with dazzling lights."
Harry, Ron, and even Neville found Jerry and Hermione terrifying. Classes were over, yet those two still sought out professors for extra lessons. They were taking things way too far.
The group sat on the grass and chatted for a while. Then the Slytherin students began arriving, including Malfoy.
Perhaps because he saw Jerry sitting there, Malfoy did not go over to provoke Potter. Instead, he boasted to his companions about riding a broomstick and frightening a Muggle helicopter.
At that, the students from wizarding families began sharing stories about riding broomsticks when they were little. Even Ron could not resist boasting that he had once nearly collided with a Muggle glider.
Listening to them, Harry looked wistful and began imagining what it would feel like to fly.
Hermione and Neville were worried about Flying Class. Neither had ever tried anything so adventurous.
Jerry, on the other hand, was utterly fearless. He had absolute faith in his talent. As far as he was concerned, everyone else could do as they pleased; he would be unbeatable.
All around them, students talked animatedly about broomsticks and Quidditch. A few even started arguing over Quidditch and Muggle football.
The children from wizarding families thought football sounded dull, with only one ball that could not even fly. The students from Muggle families thought Quidditch was not a sport at all—it was a death wish.
"Jerry, Harry, have either of you ridden a broomstick before?" Hermione asked, growing anxious as she listened to the chaotic debate around them.
Jerry shook his head. "No. And I hate the idea of riding one."
Harry felt differently. He could not wait to fly on a broomstick and play in a Quidditch Match.
"You don't understand," Ron said. "Riding a broomstick and representing my house in a Quidditch Match—that's my dream. It's just a shame first-years aren't allowed to play. Otherwise, I'd sign up for sure."
"What are you all doing? Get into position. Class is starting!" A stern voice cut through their conversation.
They turned to see their Flying Class teacher, Madam Hooch.
"Right. Form two rows, with a broomstick beside each of you. Then listen to my instructions. Quickly now, we haven't got all day."
The students soon took their places as Madam Hooch had instructed, each with a broomstick at their feet.
Madam Hooch surveyed them, nodded in satisfaction, and said, "Now hold your right hand over the broomstick handle and say it with me: 'Up!'"
Everyone followed her instructions and shouted, "Up!"
Several broomsticks sprang into their owners' hands, including Harry's. Others, like Hermione's, merely rolled over on the ground.
Only Jerry's and Neville's broomsticks did not react at all.
They tried a few more times. Nearly everyone succeeded, and even Neville's broomstick gave a faint shudder. Jerry's still did nothing.
It seemed Jerry disliked broomsticks, and broomsticks disliked him right back. Hopefully, when it came time to take off, his would actually fly.