Early Thursday morning, sunlight filtered through the stained glass of the Great Hall, spilling onto the long dining tables.
As Baelon, Michael, and Terry sat down, Hermione walked over with her tray and naturally took a seat beside them.
Several surprised glances flickered around them, but she simply straightened her back slightly and ate her breakfast quietly.
“Two periods of History of Magic this morning, and two periods of Flying Class this afternoon,” Baelon said calmly, flipping through the schedule.
Hermione nodded gently.
“The first class is with our two houses together, so it’s perfect that we can be together.”
Terry’s face fell.
“I hope Professor Binns doesn’t make us take notes for the entire morning…”
The History of Magic classroom was dim and quiet, the air smelling of parchment and dust.
Professor Binns, the ghost, floated before the podium, his voice flat, monotonous, and devoid of any rise or fall, like a slowly flowing river.
“Today we will discuss the 14th-century Wizard Persecution Ordinances and the period of chaos within the Ministry of Magic…”
Most of the students were drowsy, their heads nodding as they nearly collapsed onto their textbooks.
Hermione held her quill, her nib gliding rapidly as she took notes seriously without missing a word, her expression focused and solemn.
Baelon listened calmly, his gaze fixed on the textbook throughout, his attitude very earnest.
He silently complained to himself that history, which should have been full of ups and downs and quite exciting, was made so dull and uninteresting by Professor Binns—it was quite a rare talent in its own way.
Occasionally, he would pick up his pen to jot down a few notes, highlighting key passages.
Whenever Terry’s mind wandered, he would gently tap the textbook to remind him to pay attention to the important content.
Hermione happened to catch a glimpse of his well-organized notes, and a hint of approval quietly appeared in her eyes.
The entire class was tedious but stable, without any waves or accidents.
When the bell rang, half the students in the classroom felt a sense of relief.
Hermione closed her thick notebook.
“Even though the content is very dry, it helps to understand many of the root causes in the wizarding world.”
Baelon looked up and nodded gently.
“Yes, it is indeed very important.”
After the first History of Magic Class ended, the next period was History of Magic for Slytherin and Hufflepuff, giving the four of them a large block of free time.
At the thought of having Flying Class in the afternoon, Hermione was visibly anxious, her brow slightly furrowed.
“I’m really a bit worried…
worried about falling off the broom, worried about making a mistake in front of everyone.”
“Since we have time now, let’s go to the library.
I’ll find some books on flying to read ahead of time.”
Baelon checked the time and reminded her softly, “It’s almost lunch time.
You guys look at the books for a bit, and I’ll go to the Great Hall to grab some food.
We can have a quick bite next to the library so it won’t delay our preparation.”
Hermione nodded.
“Alright, then I’ll go look for the books first.”
Baelon turned and walked quickly to the Great Hall, soon returning with a few simple lunches—bread, fruit, and several cups of pumpkin juice.
The four of them found a quiet spot in a corner of the library.
They ate their lunch quickly while listening to Hermione flip through a flying manual and whisper key points.
It was the perfect rhythm, allowing them to eat and preview without delay.
The Hogwarts library was quiet and vast, with books on flying concentrated on a row of low shelves by the window.
Hermione, familiar with the layout, soon brought over a stack of books and spread them out before the four of them:
A Guide to Flying Broomstick Piloting
Broomstick Balance and Low-Altitude Handling Techniques
Correction of Common Flying Errors for Young Wizards
Precautions and Emergency Procedures for Hogwarts Flying Class
Basic Principles of Ancient Broomstick Flight.
She flipped through them quickly while muttering the key points under her breath:
“Keep your center of gravity stable…
don’t use force with your wrists…
don’t lean back suddenly…
if you fall, try to roll to the side to dissipate the force…”
Terry added softly, “I thought we just had to go up and do what Madam Hooch says…”
Hermione looked up with a serious face.
“The better prepared you are, the less likely you are to panic.”
Baelon sat to the side, flipping through a page casually, his tone calm and gentle.
“Don’t worry, the broom mostly responds to your intent and tone.
The calmer you are, the more obedient it will be.”
Once everyone had finished their simple lunch, Baelon tidied up the empty packaging.
It was almost time for the first period of Flying Class in the afternoon.
Baelon, Michael, and Terry prepared to head to the grounds first.
“You guys go ahead,” Hermione said, clutching her books, her gaze still fixed on the pages, her tone carrying a hint of unmistakable nervousness.
“I’ll look a bit longer to understand a bit more; it’ll make me feel more at ease.”
“Then we’ll wait for you at the flying field,” Baelon nodded gently.
The three of them left first, while Hermione remained in her seat, continuing to quietly flip through the flying manual.
The sunlight was bright and the grass was soft.
Rows of old flying brooms were neatly arranged on the grass, their wooden handles worn and their bristles messy.
Madam Hooch stood before the lines, her expression stern.
This period was for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff together.
Since Hermione was in Gryffindor, she did not participate in this session.
After finishing her review in the library, she quietly came to wait by the edge of the field.
Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff’s eyes lit up as soon as she saw Baelon, and she walked over with a smile to say hello.
“Baelon, I didn’t expect us to have Flying Class together!”
Baelon nodded slightly.
“Quite a coincidence.”
“I heard you’re good at everything,” Hannah lowered her voice, her tone a bit teasing.
“Don’t fly too well later and make the rest of us look bad.”
Michael couldn’t help but laugh from the side.
“He’ll definitely be fine.”
Terry also nodded.
“I bet he’s the first to succeed.”
Baelon gave a faint smile and didn’t respond, simply picking up the broom in front of him.
“Place your right hand over the broom and say loudly—Up!”
Baelon’s voice was calm and clear, and the broom immediately leaped steadily into his palm, his posture standard and sharp.
Madam Hooch’s eyes brightened.
“Very good, very stable control.”
Michael and Terry also succeeded one after another.
The Hufflepuff students were gentle and down-to-earth; no one mocked or caused trouble, and the entire class was well-ordered.
After taking off, everyone flew steadily at a low altitude.
Some looked around, while others gripped their brooms tightly.
Everyone was cautiously experiencing the wonderful feeling of flight; it was an unforgettable Flying Class.
After landing, this period of Flying Class officially concluded.
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students dispersed in small groups, some leaving together and others chatting and resting to the side.
The field soon cleared.
Hannah didn’t leave either; she naturally walked over to Baelon and the other two, staying with them at the edge of the field to quietly watch the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams that were about to take the field.
She seemed as if she had long since integrated into this small circle, relaxed and casual, without any sense of being a stranger.
Before long, the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams marched over in an orderly fashion.
Hermione returned to her own house’s team.
Neville stood at the very edge, his face pale, his hands tightly clutching the hem of his robes, clearly nervous to the extreme.
Malfoy, on the other hand, looked arrogant, huddled with Crabbe and Goyle, occasionally sneering at the Gryffindors.
Madam Hooch had the two groups of students stand in line and pointed again at the rows of worn brooms on the ground.
“Listen up, everyone.
Once you take off, stay at a low altitude.
No flying around randomly, and certainly no playing tricks on your classmates!”
With the command given, the Gryffindor and Slytherin students took to the air one after another.
Everything was fairly steady at first, but after a few seconds, an accident occurred right before everyone’s eyes—
Neville was simply too nervous; his wrist gave a sudden jerk, and the flying broom in his hand abruptly shot upward, out of control.
He instantly lost his balance high in the air, his body tilted, and he fell heavily from the broom!
“Neville!” Hermione screamed.
The surrounding students were in a panic, and Madam Hooch’s face also changed in alarm.
At the critical moment when Neville was about to smash into the ground from a great height, Baelon, with incredible speed, cast two low-toned and precise spells, sending them out almost simultaneously.
“Aresto Momentum!”
“Cushioning Charm!”
Neville’s descent slowed abruptly, his body seeming to be gently supported by a soft breeze, and he then landed steadily on the grass, completely unharmed.
Madam Hooch rushed to Neville’s side, kneeling down to carefully check his condition.
After confirming he was not injured, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned to look at Baelon, her voice full of praise: “Baelon!
If it weren’t for you, the consequences would have been unthinkable!”
Hannah couldn’t help but let out a low gasp, looking at Baelon with increased admiration.
But the chaos did not end there.
The Remembrall in Neville’s pocket rolled onto the grass and was snatched up by the quick-handed Malfoy.
He immediately mounted his broom and shot into the air, mocking them wantonly from above.
“Look what we have here?
Longbottom’s little treasure?” Malfoy laughed loudly, toying with the Remembrall.
“Come and get it if you want it, you’re so stupid you can’t even sit on a broom steadily!”
With that, he jerked his hand up and threw the Remembrall hard toward the distant sky.
Everyone instinctively looked up.
At that very moment, Harry Potter, almost out of instinct, leaped onto his broom and kicked off the ground, shooting out like an arrow from a bow.
He leaned low, dived, and swerved sharply, his movements fluid and natural, not at all like a freshman in his first class.
At the moment the Remembrall was about to hit the ground, he reached out and caught it, gripping the ball steadily in his palm.
This series of bold and sharp movements left the entire field stunned.
Meanwhile, in Professor McGonagall’s office up in the Castle, she was standing by the window, taking in the entire scene.
She recognized at a glance that Harry’s extended, agile, and explosive flying posture was almost identical to that of his father, James Potter.
It was Quidditch talent etched into his bones.
A complex sense of relief flickered in Professor McGonagall’s eyes, both for the son of an old friend and for the surprise of seeing such talent reappear.
Regarding the chaos on the field, she furrowed her brow slightly in worry, but it soon smoothed out—as the Deputy Headmistress, she was well aware of Madam Hooch’s professionalism and responsibility; this situation was enough for her to handle properly.
She did not go downstairs, but simply withdrew her gaze, a decision already formed in her heart.
On the field, Malfoy’s face was pale with anger, but he was sharply cut off by Madam Hooch.
“Malfoy!
Detention!
I shall be writing to your parents!”
The Gryffindor and Slytherin Flying Class soon ended amidst the aftermath.
Baelon, Michael, Terry, Hannah, and Hermione gathered by the edge of the field, whispering about the farce of an accident that had just occurred, their voices carrying both shock and a bit of wry amusement.
No one specifically mentioned that, inadvertently, their original small circle had naturally gained a new partner.
It wasn’t until after dinner that evening that Harry was called away and taken to Professor McGonagall’s office.
Professor McGonagall looked serious but could not hide her admiration as she formally spoke to him:
“Potter, I saw your performance in the Flying Class this afternoon from my office.
Your talent is innate, just like your father’s.
Hogwarts has a century-old rule that first-year students cannot join the house Quidditch teams.
But I can make an exception for you.
I want you to serve as the Gryffindor seeker.”
Harry was completely stunned and could not come to his senses for a long time.