Flying Class

On Thursday morning, the Great Hall at Hogwarts was bustling, filled with the buzz of conversation.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin tables were the loudest. Malfoy was loudly complaining that first-years weren't allowed to try out for Quidditch. Otherwise, he would surely catch the Golden Snitch for Slytherin, knock out the other three houses one after another, and lift the Hercules Cup-no, the Quidditch Cup.

The Hufflepuff table was considerably quieter, mainly because their flying class was scheduled for the afternoon.

Still, Justin seemed to have struck some secret deal with Morn, who was vigorously insisting that Justin's stories were completely true, as though Morn had witnessed them firsthand.

Hermione had appeared at the Hufflepuff table again that day, with Neville trailing behind her like a little shadow.

Su Er listened with a smile as Hermione endlessly recited the flying techniques she'd read about in books. His ears practically itched, but he didn't dare scratch them. Neville, on the other hand, listened very attentively, hoping to put that knowledge to use shortly.

"My gran never lets me near a broomstick. I'm bound to make a fool of myself," Neville said miserably.

The mail carriers swooping in through the small openings above the Great Hall interrupted the lively chatter.

"Oh, that's my gran's owl." Seeing an old owl circling above the Gryffindor table, Neville hurried back to his own table. The owl clutched a cloth bag in its talons; apparently, Neville's grandmother had sent him something.

Su Er watched Neville take a gleaming, milky-white sphere out of the bag, then saw it turn red.

"That's a Remembrall. I read about it in Modern Alchemical Products. When it turns red, it means the person holding it has forgotten something," Hermione said.

"I think I know what Neville forgot," Su Er said, looking at the rather goofy-looking toad on the bench where Neville had just been sitting.

Malfoy passed the Gryffindor table carrying a small parcel and snatched the Remembrall from Neville's hand while he wasn't looking.

Then Professor McGonagall appeared.

The familiar scene stirred Su Er's memories.

"Make sure you tell Neville to be careful when he gets on his broom," Su Er urged Hermione, his expression grave.

"Huh?" Hermione tilted her head, looking puzzled.

At noon, after Herbology, Su Er couldn't find Neville in the Great Hall. Hermione and Harry, the protagonist, were missing too. In their usual spot sat only a lone redheaded figure, wolfing down his food.

"Where's Neville?" Su Er walked over and tapped Ron on the shoulder.

Startled, Ron turned around blankly, his jaws moving automatically as he chewed the steak in his mouth.

"What did you say?"

"I asked why Neville and Hermione aren't here," Su Er repeated.

"Oh, right..." Ron hurriedly swallowed his steak. "Neville broke his arm in a fall. Hermione and Madam Hooch took him to the Hospital Wing. They haven't come back yet."

In a few brief sentences, Ron recounted everything that had happened that morning.

Su Er frowned deeply. Ron pointed toward the entrance. "Look, they're back."

Hermione and Harry were coming through the doors of the Great Hall together.

"Are you all right?" Su Er asked Hermione with concern.

"Don't even ask. It was absolutely awful." Hermione looked rather pale; the morning's events had clearly given her quite a fright.

Harry was frowning deeply, while Ron moved closer with a concerned look of his own.

"Neville broke his arm. Madam Pomfrey said he has to stay in the Hospital Wing all afternoon and overnight. He won't be back until tomorrow," Hermione said. "But why did you ask me to warn Neville to be careful this morning?"

Su Er laughed awkwardly and brushed the question aside, feeling rather at a loss himself.

I can't exactly say I foresaw Neville breaking his arm during flying class, can I?

Wait, foresaw? Prophecies really do exist in the world of Harry Potter, don't they? If I remember correctly, there's a profession called a Seer. Grindelwald, the first Dark Lord, was one!

That would make a good excuse. He wasn't close to Harry or Ron, but he still wanted to look out for Hermione.

Because of everything that had happened that morning, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's flying class didn't begin until four in the afternoon. Madam Hooch kept her sharp, hawklike eyes fixed on them throughout the lesson.

Mounting a broom and rising into the air posed no difficulty for Su Er. The trouble was that Hogwarts' school brooms dug painfully into his backside. There was no comfort to speak of.

The boasts Justin had been making over the past few days were mercilessly exposed by reality. One look at him perched on his broom, trembling slightly with panic on his face, was enough to show that he was no flying prodigy who soared alongside gliders, as he'd claimed.

By the time flying class ended, the Black Lake was blanketed in the red glow of sunset, and the sun was struggling to cast its last rays of light.

The young wizards raced one another back to the castle.

Dinner had already begun. The tasty beef, meat sauce, and fried eggs all came in limited quantities. Only at feasts could they eat as much as they liked; ordinary meals weren't so plentiful.

If they were late, they'd be left gnawing on dry bread with pumpkin juice. Sure, they could spread some jam on the bread, but who wanted to go meatless when meat was an option?

Nothing in the world mattered more than getting fed!

Back in the Great Hall, Su Er piled two steaks, two potatoes, some meat sauce, and sausages onto his plate. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Malfoy marching toward the Gryffindor table with his two lackeys again, determined to make his presence felt.

Tsk. Making friends isn't actually that hard. Why can't this kid figure it out?

Over the past few days, Su Er had seen Malfoy try every possible way to pester Harry. Looking at his methods, how was he any different from a primary-school boy pulling a girl's pigtails or poking her with a pencil to get her attention?

Was this a case of showing your love by teasing him relentlessly?

Ugh... Su Er couldn't help shuddering. No wonder so many people shipped Harry and Draco.

With a sigh of reflection, Su Er stuffed a succulent piece of beef into his mouth and narrowed his eyes in bliss. This country might have been notorious as a culinary wasteland, but the Kitchen's cooking was simply out of this world.

That day's desserts were jam biscuits and some fruit.

Of course, no meal ever went without sweet pumpkin juice.

The Hogwarts Kitchens had truly gone to great lengths to ensure that the young wizards received all the nutrition they needed. In just half a month, Su Er had already put on a little weight.

Su Er was happily munching on a thoroughly washed apple when Hermione sat down beside him, looking deeply troubled.

"What's wrong?" Seeing how unhappy she looked, Su Er asked with concern.

"Harry and Ron are going out after curfew. Malfoy came over just now and arranged to duel them in the Trophy Room on the fourth floor at midnight. I overheard them by accident," Hermione said. "I tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn't listen."

"What's wrong with going out at night? I've gone to the Kitchen for a late-night snack several times," Su Er said casually.

"You..." Hermione's eyes widened. "The school rules make it perfectly clear that wandering around after curfew is against the rules. If you're caught, you lose fifty points!"

"Then just don't get caught." Su Er raised a finger. "There's one principle that comes before every school rule: if you aren't caught, it doesn't count as breaking the rules."

"Besides, the Hufflepuff Common Room and the Kitchen are on the same corridor. There's absolutely no chance of being caught."

"They're going to duel on the fourth floor at midnight! Have you forgotten what Professor Dumbledore said at the start of term? The Fourth-Floor Corridor on the Right is out of bounds!" Hermione looked distraught. "They'll be breaking more than just the curfew rule. If they get caught, Gryffindor won't stand a chance of winning the House Cup this year!"

"Slytherin has won the House Cup several years running," Hermione added, glancing at Gryffindor's hourglass at the front of the Great Hall.

"No, I have to find a way to stop them!"

With that, she hurried to her feet and disappeared from the Great Hall.

Having known Hermione's personality since their days at school in the Muggle neighborhood, Su Er could guess at once what she was about to do. Back then, whenever someone broke the rules, Hermione was always the first to tell a teacher. That was also why she'd never made any friends.

She's not really going to Professor McGonagall, is she?

Please don't do that, little Hermione.

Su Er only vaguely remembered that something like this had happened in the story. In the end, Professor McGonagall apparently hadn't appeared, and Malfoy's challenge had merely been a trick to get Harry caught and severely punished.

Hermione would get dragged into it too, and that wouldn't do.

Midnight? Looks like I'll have to take a stroll tonight as well, Su Er lamented. I'm bound to doze off in class tomorrow-and it's Snape's Potions class, too.