Watching Fred, George, and Lee disappear down the corridor, Alvin turned to Cho.
“We should head back too.” Cho was already showing the early signs of intoxication.
Her cheeks were slightly pink, her eyes a little unfocused, and her usual quick reactions had slowed considerably.
At his words, she simply nodded obediently.
Alvin sighed.
Butterbeer really was dangerous.
Not because it was particularly strong.
Because it didn’t taste strong.
Stepping closer, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her forward.
Cho leaned naturally against him.
The softness pressed against his side was impossible to ignore.
Alvin immediately activated his emergency mental defense mechanism.
Not legal yet.
Not legal yet.
Give it a few years.
The two made their way back toward Ravenclaw Tower through the quiet castle.
As they walked, Cho gradually sobered up.
Unfortunately for Alvin, she also seemed to realize how comfortable his arm around her shoulders was.
Rather than stepping away, she simply stayed where she was.
Completely content.
Neither spoke.
The silence was strangely pleasant.
By the time they reached the entrance to the girls’ dormitories, the castle had become completely still.
Cho suddenly stopped.
“Thank you, Alvin.” Before he could respond, she took a deep breath.
As if gathering every ounce of courage she possessed.
Then she rose onto her tiptoes.
A pair of soft lips brushed lightly against his cheek.
The contact lasted barely a second.
Then Cho froze.
Her face turned bright red.
And she fled.
Not walked.
Not hurried.
Fled.
Within moments, she had vanished up the staircase.
Leaving Alvin standing there alone.
Completely stunned.
Several seconds passed.
Slowly, he raised a hand and touched his cheek.
Remembering the faint warmth lingering there, he couldn’t help muttering, “Why did she run?” “I barely felt anything.” A helpless laugh escaped him.
Then he headed back to his dormitory.
And fell asleep with that warmth still lingering in his thoughts.
Thursday morning.
Students from Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin gathered on a wide grassy field beside the castle.
Today was their first Flying lesson.
The atmosphere buzzed with excitement.
Children from wizarding families were enthusiastically recounting stories of their childhood broom adventures.
Or, more accurately, exaggerating them.
The Slytherins were especially loud.
Draco Malfoy currently held center stage.
“I was nearly hit by a Muggle helicopter once.” He spoke with all the seriousness of a war veteran recounting a battlefield experience.
“It was a matter of life and death.” Nearby Slytherins listened with varying degrees of skepticism.
Malfoy continued anyway.
He also spent a considerable amount of time complaining about first-years being banned from Quidditch teams.
Apparently, this represented one of the greatest injustices in wizarding history.
Throughout the entire performance, he repeatedly glanced toward Harry and Alvin.
His expression clearly suggested he pitied their broomless childhoods.
Alvin couldn’t have cared less.
He was occupied with something far more important.
Namely, calming a nervous Hermione Granger.
“It’ll be fine, Hermione.” “Neither Harry nor I have ever flown before.” “A lot of them are exaggerating.” “You don’t need to worry.” Hermione looked entirely unconvinced.
Ever since she’d learned they would be attending Flying lessons, she’d been behaving strangely.
According to Harry, she’d spent breakfast reciting passages from Quidditch Through the Ages.
Repeatedly.
At length.
Poor Neville Longbottom had been trapped beside her for most of it.
The fact that his Remembrall had been flashing red the entire time had gone completely unnoticed.
A few minutes later, Madam Hooch arrived.
A large collection of broomsticks floated neatly behind her.
With a flick of her wand, one landed before each student.
Alvin glanced down.
The broom looked ancient.
Several twigs were missing from the tail.
He wasn’t entirely convinced it qualified as transportation.
“Everyone.” Madam Hooch blew a sharp whistle.
“Stand beside your broom.” “Place your right hand over it.” “Then say: Up.” “Up.” The moment Alvin spoke, the broom jumped neatly into his hand.
Harry’s did the same.
Most of the class experienced less success.
Hermione’s broom rolled around in the grass as though actively avoiding her.
Malfoy had to shout three times before his finally responded.
When it did, it nearly broke his nose.
After demonstrating several basic techniques, Madam Hooch mounted her own broom.
“When I blow my whistle, push off from the ground.” “Three.” “Two.” “One.” “Go!” Alvin kicked off lightly.
His broom rose smoothly into the air.
Immediately, he noticed something remarkable.
The Flying Experience Card worked exactly as advertised.
The broom felt completely natural beneath him.
As though he’d been riding one for years.
A slight shift in balance.
A subtle adjustment in posture.
The broom responded instantly.
Higher.
Lower.
Left.
Right.
Everything felt intuitive.
Effortless.
Unfortunately, not everyone was having the same experience.
Neville Longbottom looked absolutely terrified.
When he pushed off the ground, he apparently used every ounce of strength he possessed.
WHOOSH!
His broom shot upward like a launched missile.
The speed was absurd.
Even Madam Hooch reacted a moment too late.
By the time she moved, Neville was already twenty feet above the field.
Then disaster struck.
His hands slipped.
Neville screamed.
And fell.
Straight down.
Several students shrieked.
A few girls covered their eyes.
Madam Hooch immediately attempted a Levitation Charm.
But Neville was falling too fast.
The spell missed.
Then a clear voice rang out across the field.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” A flash of light burst from Alvin’s wand.
The spell struck Neville perfectly.
His rapid descent slowed instantly.
The terrified boy jerked to a stop.
Then, under Alvin’s careful control, began drifting gently downward.
Like a falling feather.
A moment later, Neville touched the grass.
Completely unharmed.
Silence.
The entire field stared.
Several students cautiously lowered their hands.
Others peeked through their fingers.
Neville was fine.
Perfectly fine.
Then the cheering started.
Applause erupted from every direction.
“Oh, Merlin!” Madam Hooch finally recovered from her shock.
She hurried over to inspect Neville personally.
After confirming that he wasn’t injured, she finally relaxed.
Then she turned toward Alvin.
“Ten points to Ravenclaw!” Her voice carried clearly across the field.
“That was an excellent Levitation Charm, Mr.
Gaunt!” Frankly speaking, if Alvin hadn’t intervened, Neville would have been headed straight for the Hospital Wing with multiple broken bones.
And Madam Hooch’s day would have become significantly more complicated.
The moment she departed with Neville, Draco Malfoy resumed being Draco Malfoy.
During the commotion, he had spotted Neville’s dropped Remembrall.
Now he was casually tossing it into the air and catching it again.
Harry’s patience finally snapped.
“Give it back, Malfoy.” His voice was low.
Dangerously low.
Malfoy smirked.
“What?” “Perhaps I should leave it on top of a tree.” “Then Longbottom can fetch it himself.” Without waiting for a response, he mounted his broom and kicked off.
The Remembrall glittered in his hand as he climbed higher.
Then he shouted back over his shoulder.
“Come and take it, Scarhead!” Harry exploded immediately.
He mounted his broom and launched after him.
The flying talent inherited from James Potter revealed itself at once.
Within seconds, Harry looked completely at home in the air.
The two boys raced across the sky.
Harry gaining rapidly.
Alvin watched thoughtfully.
So this was the famous Remembrall incident.
The moment that would eventually lead to Harry joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
A true child of destiny.
If he couldn’t cheat academically…
The universe simply allowed him to cheat athletically instead.
In Britain, athletic talent often earned more admiration than academic brilliance anyway.
While Alvin was contemplating the unfairness of fate, a sudden scream erupted nearby.
He turned.
Then froze.
Hermione Granger.
Who had been anxiously watching Harry’s reckless pursuit.
Apparently, she had become so alarmed that she’d jumped.
Forgetting one critically important detail.
She was still sitting on a broom.
The result was immediate.
Hermione shot upward like an arrow released from a bow.
Straight into the sky.
Fast.
Far too fast.
And judging by the look of absolute panic on her face— She had absolutely no idea how to stop.