After breakfast, the first-year students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff made their way to the Quidditch Pitch for their first Flying lesson.
Led by Ravenclaw Prefect Penelope Clearwater, the students stopped by the broom shed, where each of them selected a school broom.
Mord looked over the collection.
Most of the brooms were older models, such as the Cleansweep Five and the Comet 200.
Although outdated, they had clearly been maintained with great care.
After a brief inspection, Mord chose a Cleansweep Five.
He had always admired the Cleansweep series.
It was famous for its stability, reliability, and smooth handling.
While it wasn’t the fastest broom available, its excellent control made it a dependable choice.
After all, he planned to fly hundreds of feet in the air.
If the broom malfunctioned—or if he lost control and crashed—his handsome face would be the first thing to suffer.
Standing beside him, Susan Bones selected a Comet 200.
Mord raised an eyebrow.
“The Comet series isn’t ideal for beginners,” he said kindly.
“It has incredible acceleration, but its handling becomes difficult at high speeds. It’s easy to lose control.”
Susan smiled politely.
“Thanks for the advice.”
“But my aunt is close friends with Richard, the owner of the Comet company.”
“I’ve always been a fan of the Comet series.”
Mord smiled awkwardly.
Looks like I accidentally lectured someone from the VIP club.
Without saying anything else, everyone headed toward the Quidditch Pitch.
There were fewer than thirty students waiting on the field.
Although Hogwarts seemed enormous, there were only around ten first-year students in each house.
Hufflepuff had the largest group.
Ravenclaw had the fewest.
Somewhere, a mathematics professor was probably asking students to estimate the number of first-years in each house.
Before every Flying lesson came another Hogwarts tradition—
Boasting.
Anthony proudly puffed out his chest.
“When I was five, I was already flying through forests on my family’s broom.”
Terry snorted.
“That’s nothing.”
“I was racing owls when I was three.”
Mord looked at him with amusement.
“Why stop there?”
“You should’ve said you raced dragons.”
Terry scratched the back of his head.
“There weren’t any dragons where I lived.”
He turned toward Mord.
“What about you?”
“How good are your flying skills?”
Mord answered with a perfectly straight face.
“I’ve been flying since birth.”
“It took my parents an entire month before they managed to get me back onto the ground.”
Everyone stared at him in stunned silence.
As expected…
Even Mord’s bragging was on another level.
“Good morning, everyone.”
A sharp voice interrupted their laughter.
Madam Hooch strode onto the field carrying a broom.
Her short gray hair and sharp yellow eyes gave her the appearance of a hawk ready to hunt.
Terry whispered,
“I heard she isn’t just the Flying instructor.”
Mord nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“Flying lessons are only for first-years.”
“If she didn’t have other responsibilities, the other professors would probably be jealous.”
Madam Hooch demonstrated the proper riding posture.
“When mounting your broom, sit slightly behind the center.”
“When taking off, tilt the front upward slightly.”
“Don’t pull too hard.”
“Push gently from the ground and let the broom lift you.”
Mord listened carefully.
Ever since his previous life, flying had been one of his greatest dreams.
Now that dream was finally within reach.
After finishing her explanation, Madam Hooch clapped her hands.
“Alright.”
“Mount your brooms!”
Mord climbed onto the Cleansweep Five and adjusted his position.
Hopefully these things have magical cushioning…
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
“Take off!”
With a gentle push, the broom smoothly rose into the air.
The moment his feet left the ground, a wave of exhilaration rushed through him.
He laughed.
Without thinking, he leaned forward.
The Cleansweep shot ahead.
Wind roared past his ears as his robes fluttered behind him.
“This is incredible!”
After a brief wobble, Mord quickly regained perfect control.
His confidence grew instantly.
He could tell…
His flying talent was exceptional.
“Mr. Black!”
“Slow down!”
Madam Hooch called from below.
Mord waved cheerfully.
“Sorry, Professor!”
“I got a little excited.”
Seeing how naturally he handled the broom, Madam Hooch simply smiled.
There was no need to worry.
One by one, the other students took off as well.
Flying itself wasn’t particularly difficult.
But just like learning to drive…
Once people actually started doing it, countless unexpected problems appeared.
While Mord effortlessly circled the Quidditch Pitch, Terry hovered several feet above the ground with a deathly pale face.
His broom swayed dangerously from side to side.
“I…”
“I think I’m broom-sick…”
He quickly landed before vomiting, drawing laughter from everyone.
Nearby, Susan watched Mord flying gracefully through the air.
How could one person excel at everything?
She had spent the past week quietly observing the first-years.
Harry Potter’s academic performance was merely average.
Hermione Granger had already earned praise from nearly every professor.
Mord Black…
His grades rivaled Hermione’s. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Even Professor Snape had complimented him.
Susan herself ranked among Hufflepuff’s best students.
But compared to Hermione and Mord…
She always seemed just one step behind.
Her aunt expected great things from her.
She refused to lose.
Taking a deep breath, Susan leaned forward.
The Comet 200 burst ahead with incredible acceleration.
Within seconds, she had overtaken everyone—including Mord.
Mord smiled.
Interesting.
He lowered himself over his broom and accelerated in pursuit.
The two of them streaked across the sky side by side, silently competing.
Madam Hooch watched for a moment before returning her attention to the other students.
Neither of them appeared to be in danger.
At least…
Not yet.
Soon, they had completely left the rest of the class behind.
Susan smiled triumphantly.
Seeing Mord still close behind, her competitive spirit flared.
She leaned completely forward.
The Comet instantly unleashed its full speed.
Like an arrow released from a bow, it shot toward the far end of the Quidditch Pitch.
Even Mord’s Cleansweep couldn’t match that kind of acceleration.
Superior technique couldn’t compensate for inferior speed.
The Comet series truly excelled in straight-line racing.
Then Mord noticed something alarming.
The tail of Susan’s broom began shaking violently.
His expression changed instantly.
No…
She’s losing control!
Without hesitation, he pushed his broom to its absolute limit.
Ahead of him, Susan finally realized something was wrong.
She tried to turn.
Nothing happened.
The broom refused to respond.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She had never flown this fast before.
Now she understood exactly what Mord had warned her about.
The faster the Comet flew…
The harder it became to control.
The spectator stands rushed toward her.
With no other choice, Susan pulled the handle with all her strength.
The broom finally responded—
Too suddenly.
It spun sharply sideways.
The violent force threw Susan completely off the broom.
“Ahhh!”
She screamed as the world spun around her.
The ground rushed up to meet her.
Just as she thought she was about to crash—
A figure shot through the air toward her at incredible speed.
Mord reached her just in time.
Bang!