"What's going on?"
Sean gripped the broom tightly as he wobbled unsteadily in midair.
"Grylls, fly lower!" Madam Hooch shouted.
"Yes, Professor!" Sean called back.
He tried leaning forward slightly, hoping to bring the broom down.
But perhaps his legs weren't gripping tightly enough—or his hands had slipped.
Suddenly, Sean lost his balance and slid right off the broom.
"Sean!" Chris cried out.
"Grylls, grab hold!" Madam Hooch was already reaching for her wand to rescue him.
Sean managed to grab the broom with one hand and dangled in midair.
His feet were still about a meter and a half above the ground.
If he had an adult body, he would've simply dropped down.
But right now he was only eleven.
Sean quickly pulled his wand from his robe and cast a spell on the grass below.
"Softening Charm."
He released the broom and fell onto the ground.
The grass had turned as soft as a pile of hay.
Sean landed safely, stood up quickly, and dusted off his robes.
Still—
the entire situation was embarrassing.
The famous Sean Grylls, the Boy Who Lived, had just fallen off a broom in flying class.
In his previous life, he had passed his driving test on the first try.
Yet now he couldn't even handle a flying lesson.
Among all the first-years from both houses, he was the only one who failed.
It was humiliating.
Sean might have forgotten something.
He had died in a car accident in his previous life.
Perhaps fate had decided he simply wasn't meant to operate vehicles anymore—even magical ones.
News of Sean falling from the broom quickly spread among the first-years.
Professor McGonagall later said to Snape,
"In Quidditch, he's nothing like James."
"That's a good thing," Snape replied indifferently.
It seemed he still disliked Harry's father.
That evening during dinner in the Great Hall, the Weasley twins walked over and slapped Sean on the shoulder.
"Does your backside hurt?" Fred asked.
"It must hurt," George added with a grin. "Try falling off a broom sometime."
Sean ignored them and continued eating his pudding.
Chris, sitting across from him, explained on his behalf.
"Sean used a spell to soften the grass. He wasn't hurt at all."
"Impressive, clever guy," Fred said admiringly.
"You want to spend the night with sore backsides?" Sean asked, pulling out his wand as if preparing to cast a spell.
Laughing, the twins quickly retreated to the Gryffindor table.
Sean still felt annoyed.
Out of all the first-years from the four houses, he was the only one who made such a fool of himself.
So he decided to return to the Room of Requirement that night and practice flying again.
After dinner, Sean returned to the Slytherin common room with the others.
At ten o'clock, he quietly slipped out with the Marauder's Map and made his way to the corridor on the eighth floor.
He walked back and forth three times while silently wishing for a place to hide.
Moments later, patterns began appearing on the previously blank wall.
The patterns slowly sharpened until they formed the outline of a door.
Sean pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The Room of Requirement was currently filled with piles of junk.
At the moment, it had taken the form of a storage room.
The room changed according to the user's needs.
Dumbledore had once said that he accidentally discovered it when he urgently needed a bathroom.
After entering, he found the room filled with hundreds of ornate chamber pots.
Later, when Dumbledore's Army needed a place to practice magic, Neville discovered the room again.
At that time it had transformed into a vast open training hall.
Sean had originally intended to use it as a spacious place to practice flying.
But since he was already here, he decided to do something more important first.
Standing in the corridor earlier, he had wished for a place to hide things.
One of Voldemort's Horcruxes… the lost diadem of Ravenclaw.
Should I pretend to be influenced by it so Dumbledore notices it sooner?
Sean scanned the piles of junk while thinking.
But instead of finding a crown—
he stumbled upon something far more awkward.
Behind one of the piles, a couple was passionately kissing.
When they saw Sean, they looked like they had seen a ghost.
The purple-haired girl asked nervously,
"How did you get in here?"
Sean instinctively glanced at the Marauder's Map.
No names appeared.
The Room of Requirement couldn't be tracked by the map.
But Sean immediately recognized the girl.
A few nights ago, when he had gone to the advanced potions classroom, two names had suddenly appeared on the map:
Nymphadora Tonks and Joseph Omero.
The couple in front of him had to be them.
Sean awkwardly forced a smile.
"Sorry. I got lost and accidentally wandered in."
Honestly, at Hogwarts, that excuse was fairly believable.
Most students who discovered the Room of Requirement did so by accident.
Tonks stared at him suspiciously.
Then suddenly her expression sharpened.
"You're lying."
"It's curfew. There's no way you accidentally wandered in here. You should be in your dormitory."
"Tonks," Joseph said quietly, stepping forward to calm her.
He turned to Sean.
"What year are you in?"
"I'm a first-year," Sean replied nervously. "Sean Grylls."
Joseph turned back to Tonks.
"He says he's Sean Grylls. The famous first-year—the Boy Who Lived."
"So what?" Tonks snapped. "He saw us."
Sean felt a chill.
For a moment it sounded like she was considering silencing him permanently.
Surely it wasn't that serious.
Dating wasn't forbidden at Hogwarts. It was normal for older students to have relationships.
Still—
if a fight actually broke out, Sean had zero chance of winning.
Tonks would later become a key member of the Order of the Phoenix.
Her magical ability was definitely not weak.
"Senior," Sean said quickly, "please continue. I'll just go back to sleep."
He turned to leave.
But Tonks suddenly cast a spell.
"Leg-Locker Curse."
Sean's legs instantly froze in place.
They felt as heavy as lead.
This spell was similar to Petrificus charm—an immobilization charm.
It wasn't difficult, but the sudden attack caught Sean completely off guard.
Unable to move his legs, Sean twisted around with a helpless expression.
"I swear I won't tell anyone about what I saw."
"Why should I believe you?" Tonks asked as she stepped closer.
"I swear on my name—Sean Grylls, the Boy Who Lived. If I tell anyone, may the Dark Lord come after me."
The moment Sean mentioned the Dark Lord, both Tonks and Joseph's expressions changed.
They exchanged a glance.
Finally Tonks nodded.
"Fine. I believe you."
She lifted the spell from his legs and waved her hand.
"You can go."
Sean let out a long breath of relief.
This woman is terrifying, he thought.
How does her boyfriend deal with her?
He had only taken a few steps when Joseph suddenly called out behind him.
"Sean."
Sean turned back with a polite, forced smile.
"Yes, senior?"
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