Tris made his broom jump up on his first try, much to Draco's disappointment. He had been hoping to see Tris make a fool of himself again.
Madam Hooch, however, was very pleased and had the young witches and wizards practice lifting off and hovering.
Ron grinned from ear to ear throughout, because Madam Hooch criticized Draco several times.
"Mr. Malfoy, you've picked up far too many bad habits. I imagine you've been practicing on your own at home. That isn't good. Once you're flying at high speed, those habits can easily have serious consequences."
Draco's pale little face darkened almost beyond recognition as he glared at Ron, whose eyes had all but disappeared into his grin, and Harry, who wore an equally peculiar expression.
At last, Madam Hooch decided she had taught them enough of the basics. She had also corrected all the little mistakes made by the students who had clearly ridden brooms before.
As for how long it would take them to break those bad habits, that remained to be seen. Madam Hooch wasn't particularly concerned about that, though.
Wizards had always operated on an elitist model. A handful of elites were enough to keep the system running. As for everyone else, staying alive was good enough. What more did they want?
Why did the school only offer flying class for one year? Did students stop enjoying flying after their first year?
Of course not. One year was all it took to tell who had talent and who didn't. The talented ones would naturally join the Quidditch teams. The untalented ones? If they had no talent, why bother playing?
If they wanted to fly, they could go home and buy their own brooms.
Now, then, it was time for a preliminary assessment of the students' flying talent.
"All right, everyone, land first," Madam Hooch called.
The students were reluctant-flying wasn't an everyday experience even for wizards-but they all returned to the ground.
Madam Hooch drew her wand and tapped the ground. A large basket immediately appeared, filled with hundreds of tennis balls.
"Next, let's play a game." Naturally, Madam Hooch wasn't going to announce that she was about to screen them for talent.
Calling it a game was a perfectly good excuse.
Sure enough, the unsuspecting students all beamed. Games were their favorite.
As long as it wasn't something like Sudoku or word puzzles, they enjoyed most games.
"What sort of game, Professor?" Ron asked eagerly.
"This one." Madam Hooch took a tennis ball from the basket and tossed it in her hand. "I'll throw these balls out, and you'll try to catch them. Whoever catches the most will earn five points for their house today..."
Tris already knew the outcome without needing to watch.
Sure enough, half an hour later...
"Mr. Potter, what astonishing talent!" Madam Hooch stared at Harry in amazement, praising him again and again after he changed direction repeatedly at high speed in midair to catch five tennis balls.
It wasn't just Madam Hooch. Apart from Tris, who had expected it, everyone present looked stunned.
Several Slytherins, Draco foremost among them, reacted with particular disbelief.
Draco still hadn't managed to close his mouth by the time class ended.
"Impossible! That's impossible!" The moment Madam Hooch dismissed them, Draco sprang up and pointed at Harry.
"How can you fly that well? This is your first time on a broom! You grew up with Muggles!"
"There's this thing called talent. Nothing you can do about it." Tris shrugged.
His resentment toward flying brooms had eased a little, because he had discovered that the problem he had been most worried about-crushing his balls-wouldn't actually happen.
There was an invisible cushion on the broom for the rider to sit on. It wasn't very stable, but at least he didn't have to worry about his balls.
Still, Tris was left speechless. Wizards really never put their minds to anything useful.
With that kind of technology, why not improve their flying equipment?
Wouldn't flying shoes be much better than broomsticks? Even in Quidditch, flying shoes would allow more tricks than brooms and make the game more entertaining to watch.
He didn't get it.
Still, Harry really was the world's chosen one. His Quidditch talent had been discovered after all.
The only question was whether he would still get the chance to become a Quidditch player straight away.
Draco clearly refused to accept Tris's explanation-or rather, he refused to accept that Harry was more talented than he was. His little head shook like a rattle.
"Impossible. That's impossible. How could Potter..."
"Heh, I reckon it's because I've been working out with Tris." Harry couldn't help looking rather pleased with himself.
"Ever since I started training with Tris, I feel strong all over. The broom does exactly what I want, too."
"Hey, now that you mention it, I think I feel that way too," Ron said, rubbing his chin.
He had flown quite well that day. He wasn't anywhere near as spectacular as Harry, but he was among the best in the class, far ahead of Tris, Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle, the four bottom-rankers from the two houses.
Draco looked at Harry, then Ron, and shook his head. "No, no. If that's true, why is he so rubbish?"
Draco pointed at Tris.
"Malfoy, are you asking for another beating?"
Who called someone rubbish right to his face like that?
Tris wasn't putting up with it.
"Y-you are bad at flying." Draco was a little intimidated, but he refused to back down verbally.
"Tris obviously has no interest in flying whatsoever." It was Daphne who spoke up for him, her tone cool.
"Didn't you notice? He barely even wants to touch his broom. How good do you expect someone to be when he has no interest at all?"
Tris wasn't particularly surprised that Daphne had defended him. The others were another matter. Draco and Pansy looked both astonished and annoyed.
Ron and Harry immediately gave Tris looks that said there was something going on between the two of them.
Tris rubbed his nose, feeling slightly awkward. Daphne gave a quiet cough, turned, and left.
"I think exercise might actually help." This time, Theodore spoke, looking down at his palms.
"Flying felt much better today than it did at home, and I haven't touched a broom in a month."
As someone from a pure-blood family, Theodore had naturally ridden brooms at home. Not as much as Draco, but quite a bit.
After a month without practice, his skills should have deteriorated considerably. Yet today, the school's battered practice broom, which was nowhere near as good as the Cleansweep he had at home, had felt unusually responsive.
After speaking, he looked at Blaise, who nodded as well.
"Could it really help?" Hermione frowned slightly. Her performance that day hadn't been ideal either, only a little better than the four hopeless cases, Tris and the others.
It was nowhere near the standard she wanted: excellence in every subject.
If physical exercise really could help with Quidditch, Hermione felt she could step up the intensity of her workouts a little.
Clearly, Hermione wasn't the only one thinking along those lines. Several students' eyes darted about as they considered it.
Tris reckoned a few more people might join him in his relentless training tomorrow.
Before tomorrow arrived, however, came a surprise. It wasn't a bad one, but it certainly caught Tris off guard.
After dinner, Tris had planned to head to the library and work on his homework for a while, only to be stopped by the sixth-year Prefect.
"First years, all of you, come along. We have a house event today."
"A house event?" Tris blinked. They had those?
"The contest for each year's Chief Student. I'm sure I told you about it, didn't I?" Blaise reminded him when he saw his puzzled expression.
"Oh!" Tris understood.
There had indeed been something like that.
Blaise and Theodore had told him about it on their first night at school, but he hadn't taken it seriously at the time and had promptly forgotten.
Only Blaise's reminder brought it back to him.
"How do they choose? Fighting? We've only been here a month. How many spells could anyone have learned?" Tris asked in puzzlement as he followed the eager students back to the common room.
The moment he entered, Tris discovered that it wasn't just the first years gathered there.
The second, third, and fourth years were all there too.
Seeing Tris look surprised again, Blaise was rather speechless. "Do you not care about Slytherin traditions at all?"
"Before I came to school, I thought I'd definitely end up in Gryffindor." Tris spread his hands. "And you've seen how busy I've been every day since I got here, haven't you?"
For a moment, Blaise genuinely didn't know how to answer.
A little later, Snape arrived in the common room too, dressed in black robes and wearing his usual expression, as though everyone owed him two hundred Galleons.
He swept his gaze over the common room, where almost all the Slytherin students had gathered, and said flatly, "Today we observe Slytherin's tradition: the monthly contest for Chief Student.
"Before we begin, I'll say a few words in case anyone doesn't know what this entails." His gaze passed pointedly over Tris.
"In Slytherin, strength comes first. Those with greater strength hold higher status. Today, we select the student who will hold the highest status in each of the lower years."
What an edgy tradition. Tris shook his head. But seeing the excited faces of the students around him, he kept that thought to himself and asked instead,
"What about the upper years?"
Snape glanced at Tris again, his deep, pool-like eyes seemingly devoid of emotion as ever. "The upper years have Prefects."
Tris smacked his lips as he finally grasped what that meant.
So the Prefects had the highest status in the upper years? Instead of holding a contest every month, they simply appointed Prefects?
Then again, perhaps the previous four years were enough to identify the strongest boy and girl?
Tris pondered this without saying anything more.
Snape showed no intention of paying him further attention either and continued, "Now, first, the second-year Chief Student will accept challenges..."
A black-haired girl stepped forward, her face full of arrogance. "Who wants to challenge me?"
Several students immediately stepped forward.
What followed was a low-level fight with few impressive effects, one that even made Tris yawn.
The black-haired girl really did have reason to be proud. She faced five challengers in succession and defeated every one of them decisively.
As a result, Tris remembered her name.
Irina Yaxley. She belonged to a pure-blood clan, too.
The third and fourth years followed the same pattern, with the reigning Chief Students accepting challenges from their peers. The fourth-year Chief Student defended the position successfully, though it looked like a close call.
The third-year Chief Student failed to hold the position. That wasn't particularly noteworthy, but what caught Tris's attention was that the new Chief Student's surname was Prewett.
Molly's surname was also Prewett, which meant this new third-year Chief Student might be related to Tris.
Wizard duels were quick, each lasting only a few dozen seconds. Even after more than a dozen bouts, less than twenty minutes had passed.
At last, it was the first years' turn.