"I don't know either, Professor Snape still hasn't given me notice of detention," Harry said, somewhat flustered.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, "If you're so scared now, you shouldn't have been so impulsive earlier."
"I wasn't impulsive," Harry said.
Hermione took her hands off "Quidditch Through the Ages": "Anyway, it's not worth it. At most, they'd just scold me a bit, and this is even after you won.
I can't imagine what would happen if you were bullied by a group of Slytherin students."
"No, you don't understand, Hermione!" Harry said.
"Mr. Jones, look, he's saying that again!" Hermione was furious, but Harry wasn't in her House, so House points weren't involved, and Harry also didn't intend to avoid punishment for breaking school rules.
This also left the eleven-year-old, single-minded girl at a loss for how to argue.
But deep down, she felt that Harry didn't need to fight over such a small matter.
What a loss if he got injured!
Howl finally came back to his senses, spreading his hands helplessly, "I won't comment."
It had been five days since he left Nurmengard, and today was already Thursday of the second week.
Grindelwald was undoubtedly half-mad; once deeply immersed in Dark Arts, no matter how rational and elegant he once was, the various desires bred by studying Dark Arts had ultimately dragged him into the abyss during these forty-six years of imprisonment.
He felt that Grindelwald was like a person who had fallen into a rapid current, desperately clinging to a life-saving straw on the bank.
As for who that life-saving straw was… he didn't feel right asking, nor did he feel right saying…
In any case, Howl hadn't sought him out since that last departure.
"Speaking of which," Howl glanced at the time, "it's almost time for afternoon classes, are you ready?"
"Ready, Captain!" Harry stood up and said.
Hermione quickly picked up "Quidditch Through the Ages" again, muttering, "To raise the broom head is up, to press down… left… right…"
Harry didn't care, "Don't worry, flying is the simplest. If worst comes to worst, just jump from high up and let the broom catch you. You'll learn it in one go."
Then he received a glare from Hermione.
"Captain, we're off!" Harry could only say.
"Go!" Howl waved his hand, quickly shooing the two children out of the office.
But after a while, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
A half-grown child pushed open the door, "Sir, I just saw two students leave from here. Is this the reading room?"
...
...
At 3:30 PM, the first-year students of Slytherin and Gryffindor hurried down the steps to the field in front of the door.
Today was their first Flying Class. The green lawn beneath their feet gently rippled, and beyond the lawn was the forest, with tree crowns dancing in the wind.
The Flying Class teacher was Madam Hooch, with neat short gray hair and golden eyes like an eagle.
She blew a whistle, focusing the Little Wizards' attention on herself.
"Alright, what are you waiting for? Everyone stand next to a flying broom."
Slytherin and Gryffindor were divided into two rows facing each other, with a flying broom next to each of them.
Harry looked down and his heart sank. The broom looked worn and old, with many splinters, and Harry was afraid they would prick his hand.
"Stretch out your right hand and place it above the broomstick," Madam Hooch called from the front, "Then say: 'Up!'"
"Up!" Harry shouted, and the broom instantly jumped into his hand.
The broom next to Hermione, opposite him, merely rolled on the ground.
Subsequently, Madam Hooch began to explain to them one by one, and after waiting for a good while, all the brooms finally arrived in their respective hands.
Just as he was thinking of taking off, the round-faced boy from Gryffindor kicked off before Madam Hooch even blew her whistle.
"Come back!" Madam Hooch's face instantly changed drastically. However, the boy was already climbing higher and higher.
Hearing the screams nearby, Harry remembered that the boy's name was Neville.
He had heard it in Potion Class before, but he had forgotten, though his wand was already ready.
"Hermione, keep an eye out. As soon as he falls, we'll cast the Levitation Charm," Harry said.
He sighed inwardly, somewhat wanting to cry but having no tears. Don't joke, friend, how long has it been since I last flew? Is this one hobby going to be ruined too?
So he had to ensure nothing went wrong, but this classmate looked big and burly, and he was afraid he couldn't handle this already considerable weight and gravitational acceleration alone!
"Ah?!" Hermione hadn't reacted yet.
Harry didn't look at Hermione, but instead grunted and continued to stare intently at Neville; he could see the other boy's terrified, pale face.
He was gasping for air, and due to extreme panic, his hands gradually lost strength, and he slipped from the broom.
Now!
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry suddenly swung his wand.
Neville's falling speed immediately slowed down. Similarly, because the speed slowed down, Hermione's spell also followed closely, hitting precisely.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Neville was then able to land steadily.
"Oh my goodness!" Madam Hooch quickly walked over and helped Neville up, "Child, are you alright?"
"I-I-I-I'm fine!"
Madam Hooch's heart tightened. This was fine?!
Don't let the child be scared into a problem.
She turned to the rest of the class and said, "I'm taking this child to the infirmary. None of you move! Put your flying brooms back where they belong, otherwise, before you can even say 'Quidditch,' you'll be kicked out of the Hogwarts gates. Let's go, dear."
However, Madam Hooch had barely walked far with Neville when someone burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, that oaf?"
Other Slytherin students also giggled.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil said sharply.
"Hmph, protecting Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson said, she was an ugly Slytherin girl, "I didn't expect you to like chubby little crybabies, Patil."
"Look!" Malfoy said, rushing over and grabbing something from the grass, "It's that big idiot Longbottom's grandmother sent him something."
Harry glanced at him, "If mocking others gives your barren hearts some satisfaction, then mock me."
He walked towards Malfoy, grabbed Neville's Remembrall, and snatched it away.
"Consider it on me."
"Potter!" Malfoy was furious again. He pointed at Harry, somewhat gritting his teeth, "Let's have a match."
"A match of what?" Harry was a bit confused.
"A flying broom match!" Malfoy roared. He had ample flying experience and felt he could completely outmaneuver Potter.
"Forget it," Harry shook his head, "This is the only thing you can brag about in front of me. If I accidentally crush it again, I'd be very worried about your mental state.
Besides, I just want to wait for Madam Hooch to return, and then just fly casually and steadily, that's all."
Harry handed the Remembrall to the boy who seemed to have a good relationship with Neville, named Seamus.
"Thanks," Seamus quickly took the ball.
"You're welcome."
"You don't seem like a Slytherin," two Gryffindor boys said with a laugh.
"No," Harry shook his head, smiling, "I actually think I'm quite like a Slytherin—of the House."