Fuck, get up there and kick his ass!

Ron shut his mouth sulkily after being told off.

Harry, who had been about to say something, wisely kept quiet too.

Ever since the three of them had met, Hermione had always seemed calm and unruffled. This was the first time they had seen her look so mortified and angry.

Fortunately, Madam Hooch missed this little incident. Instead, she called out, "When I blow my whistle, kick off hard and hold your broomsticks steady. Circle a few times once you're in the air, then lean forward slightly and fly back down..."

Before she could finish, Madam Hooch's eyes widened.

She had spotted Neville Longbottom hovering several yards above the ground, wobbling in midair.

"Mr. Longbottom, what are you doing? Get down here at once!"

As Neville felt himself rising higher and higher, panic covered his face. His voice trembled as he shouted, "Down! Down!"

Unfortunately, the broomstick refused to obey him and insisted on climbing higher. In the time it took to exchange those few words, it had already reached a height of several dozen meters.

Amid Neville's terrified cries, the broomstick tore wildly through the sky like a dog let off its leash.

As though it had a mind of its own, it completely ignored Neville riding on top and repeatedly slammed into the castle wall with heavy thuds, leaving him dizzy and seeing stars.

Finally, after that bout of wild flying, Neville ended up dangling from a bracket high on the castle wall.

With a loud ripping sound, his robes could no longer support his weight and tore apart. Neville plummeted straight down from several stories up.

A chorus of gasps instantly rose from below.

Some of the more timid young wizards had already turned away, unable to watch what came next.

Even with a wizard's physique differing from a Muggle's, a fall from that height would still cause serious injuries.

Surely this counted as a classroom accident... Hermione was speechless.

If wizarding medicine weren't so absurdly effective that it could save anyone with even a breath left in them, who knew how many people would die each year just trying to get a driver's license?

Amid the screams, Neville hurtled toward the ground. Just as everyone thought they were about to witness a tragedy, a clear voice rang out behind them.

"Arresto Momentum!"

As the spell took effect, Neville slowed abruptly. Some powerful cushioning force seemed to catch him, halting his fall outright and leaving him suspended less than half a meter above the ground.

Everyone froze for two seconds before realizing what had happened and turning around together.

Hermione stood with her wand raised, pointing ahead.

Just like that, the accident had been averted.

The NPC-like Madam Hooch finally snapped out of it. She quietly breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Hermione with gratitude.

Although incidents like this were common and unavoidable in Flying Class, she had still failed to watch these little ones properly. Even if no one blamed her, she would have felt terribly guilty.

Still... this little girl's reactions were remarkably quick.

And was the Slowing Charm really a spell a first-year could master?

Judging by that performance, even plenty of older students preparing to take their O.W.L. Exams probably couldn't cast it as proficiently as she had.

But remembering who the girl was, Madam Hooch wasn't all that surprised.

She had heard from the other professors that Gryffindor had a new student this year named Hermione Granger, whose genius was simply beyond belief.

Who would have thought a witch from a Muggle family could possess such talent?

Hermione released the spell and put away her wand.

Neville's feet touched the ground with an audible crack.

He twisted his ankle and broke it on the spot.

The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched. She felt as though all her effort had been wasted.

You really are fucking clumsy. Seriously.

Madam Hooch hurried over to examine him, then shook her head. "Mr. Longbottom, you really must thank Miss Granger properly. Otherwise, a broken bone would have been the least of your worries."

Then she looked at the others. "Stay right where you are. I'll take Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing first. If I catch anyone flying while I'm gone, they'll be expelled before they even get a chance to see Quidditch!"

Leaving them with that warning, Madam Hooch led the limping Neville away.

Once the two had disappeared from sight, all the Gryffindor students crowded around Hermione, chattering over one another.

"Hermione, Hermione, what was that spell you just used?"

"That was so cool!"

"Where did you learn it? Can you teach us?"

"Hermione, you're amazing!"

Overwhelmed by the children's enthusiasm, Hermione could barely stand it. She quickly said, "I read about it in the library. Go look for it yourselves."

With that, she fell silent and took half a step back, placing Harry and Ron in front of her as a shield.

The library?

Only then did everyone remember that the aloof girl before them also had a nickname: the Library Witch.

She certainly lived up to it.

Compared with Gryffindor's enthusiasm, the Slytherins were far colder. Most of them looked distinctly displeased.

A handful seemed tempted to come over and ask Hermione something, but after seeing the mood around them, they hesitated and abandoned the idea.

Hermione noticed and understood perfectly.

Had it been anyone else, the Slytherins might not have reacted like this. But a Muggle-born witch displaying such ability naturally made these pure-blood supremacists unhappy.

Even the password to their dormitory was "pure-blood." That said plenty.

Still, they weren't inclined to provoke her without a reason.

Over the past few days, a few idiots had tried picking fights with her, only for Hermione to punish every last one with her ultimate technique: telling a teacher.

Most of Hogwarts' professors were good people with no prejudice against Muggle-born students. Add in their favorable impression of Hermione as a model student, and everyone she reported not only lost their house plenty of points but also received harsh punishments, leaving them groaning in misery.

After a few such incidents, no one dared pick a fight with her for no reason anymore.

In the original story, Harry and the others never made good use of this weapon. They always wanted to settle things themselves, wasting time and effort and ending up in trouble.

A common problem with children: they cared too much about saving face.

Malfoy stared at Hermione surrounded by the crowd, his expression dark and the jealousy in his eyes impossible to hide.

This Muggle-born girl had witnessed his humiliation on the train at the start of term, and now she was already famous among the first-years, completely stealing his thunder.

She had even earned such a cool nickname as "the Library Witch"!

He wanted one too!

"Hmph, it's that Mud-again..." Malfoy began instinctively.

Then, apparently remembering something, he forcibly swallowed the rest of the word.

Last week, he had merely mocked her in a corridor, only for that scheming girl to bait him into saying that word. Professor McGonagall, who had appeared behind him at some point, caught him red-handed and gave him three days of detention.

Even more unexpectedly, when Professor Snape found out, instead of getting him out of it, he had added another three days for some reason!

That showed just how much the professors favored Granger.

But...

Even if he couldn't touch her, surely he could deal with that Scarhead lackey of hers!

Getting Potter expelled would count as revenge on her too!

At that thought, Madam Hooch's parting words echoed in Malfoy's mind. His gaze landed on a little transparent ball lying in the grass, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

While everyone was gathered around Hermione, the sharp-eyed Malfoy picked something up from the ground.

"Ha! It's Longbottom's Remembrall. Maybe if he'd squeezed this thing, he would've remembered to land on his arse."

Malfoy held up the transparent sphere in his hand, showing it off as he spoke.

Everyone's attention shifted to him, and a few students even burst into mocking laughter.

They couldn't afford to mess with someone as tough as Hermione, but Neville looked like the weakest and most foolish student in Gryffindor. Naturally, he had become a regular bullying target for some of the Slytherins, especially Malfoy's trio.

Harry's sense of justice flared. He stepped forward and said stiffly, "Give me the ball, Malfoy."

Seeing that it was Harry, Malfoy snorted. "No. I'm going to hide it and make Longbottom search for it."

He mounted his broomstick as he spoke and rose straight into the air.

Harry tightened his grip on his broom, glaring up at Malfoy with anger in his eyes, but made no further move.

Watching Malfoy deliberately fly toward Professor McGonagall's office, Hermione immediately understood what the little brat was planning.

Provoke someone into taking to the air, then let a professor catch them in the act.

A clever little scheme, but unfortunately, there were two things he didn't know.

Dumbledore would never let the Chosen One be expelled over something like this, and Harry himself was Professor McGonagall's destined Seeker.

With those two buffs stacked on him, Harry was practically invincible on this field. He could even just about qualify to trade blows with her.

He could cause as much trouble as he pleased.

In that case, he couldn't blame her for playing dirty.

Hermione poked Harry in the small of his back, instantly putting on an indignant expression as she shouted, "What are you waiting for? You're going to let him get away with that?"

"Fuck, get up there and kick his ass!"

Harry: ???