Today was a beautiful day.
Ariana walked down the steps, shading her eyes with her hand, and squinted up at the spotless blue sky.
The sun was just right, a gentle breeze swept across, and light green waves rippled over the lawn.
This was probably the class everyone was most enthusiastic about.
Ariana had barely recited the key points of broomstick riding posture twice in her head before everyone had gathered—you had to know that for History of Magic, they would drag their feet until the last second before the bell.
She quickly stood up, moved deftly, and picked a broom—this was the best one she had carefully chosen after comparing over twenty brooms.
Although the twigs at the tail were a bit haphazard, it was far better than the sea-urchin-like ones.
Why else would she come so early?
Ariana noticed Neville standing right next to the ultimate sea-urchin broom.
After a moment’s internal conflict, she warned him, “Do you want to switch brooms?
You picked the absolute worst one.
Won’t that affect your coordination during the flying lesson?” In truth, she wanted to say: *Neville, you’ve been walking for over ten years and still trip on flat ground wearing proper shoes.
How do you dare pick a broken shoe of a broom for your first flying lesson?* “Huh?” Neville looked up blankly, panic suddenly breaking out on his round face.
“Alright, everyone has chosen a broom.
Now, stand to the right side of your broom.
Extend your right hand and say ‘Up!'” Madam Hooch issued her commands briskly.
Neville, who was just about to step out, froze, looking like he was on the verge of tears.
“Don’t worry.
Since it’s placed here, it must have passed school quality inspection.
Maybe it won’t affect anything,” Ariana comforted him.
“If you’re really scared, I can lend you mine after I finish flying.” Encouraging words were easy, but she certainly didn’t want to actually ride the worst broom—otherwise, what was the point of her spending ten minutes carefully selecting one?
Was she just bored?
Ariana resolutely turned her head away.
Neville nodded tearfully.
Ariana turned back, intending to offer a few more words of encouragement, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry had already called his broom up.
Malfoy had too.
Even Ron, though he got hit on the head by his broom, at least his broom had moved!
Bloody hell, she was falling behind!
Ariana immediately lost all interest in comforting Neville.
“Up!” she commanded her broom.
Her broom stayed completely still, as if deaf.
“Up!” She raised her tone.
The tail of the broom slapped the ground, looking thoroughly reluctant.
“Up!” “Uuuup—” “UP!” “UP!!!” The broom lay there like a dead turtle, flat and lifeless.
“Oh my, look at that.
The beloved favorite of the professors, Ritchie…
What’s wrong?
Looks like the broom doesn’t like you,” Malfoy mocked, grinning widely as he strolled over.
Ariana was furious.
Noticing Madam Hooch had her back turned walking toward the other side, she whipped out her wand with a sharp swish.
Malfoy pulled his neck back, but her target wasn’t him.
With a crisp *BANG*, a protruding twig on the broom’s tail shattered into dust.
“Up!” she commanded with a dark face.
*WOOSH!* The broom shot up, obediently fitting into her palm.
“Hmph,” a cold sneer appeared on Ariana’s face.
“I don’t care whether it likes me or not.
When I need it in my hand, it better be in my hand.” She turned to look at Malfoy, her lingering cold smile adding a sharp, fierce edge to her delicate face: “Just like I don’t care whether you like me or not, Malfoy.
But in Potions class, you will sit next to me and properly display your ingredient preparation skills.
Be good during tomorrow’s class—don’t make me drag you over.
It wouldn’t look good if the professor saw.” “Y-You—who do you think you’re talking to—” Malfoy’s face turned blue and white as he stomped his feet in fury.
“You arrogant, self-centered…” “Malfoy, hold your broom properly!” Madam Hooch turned around, saw Malfoy’s red face and wildly flailing arms, and immediately frowned.
“Move your hand lower!” “No, Madam Hooch, I—” Malfoy turned, wanting to expose Ariana, only to find she had already meekly lowered her head to inspect her broom—as if the person who had just blasted a broom tail and uttered threats wasn’t her.
Malfoy was so angry he nearly fainted on the spot.
Harry, who had witnessed the entire scene, choked back a laugh—sorry, he really couldn’t hold it in.
Malfoy’s rage instantly found an outlet.
He glared furiously at Harry—he couldn’t handle Ariana, and he couldn’t handle Madam Hooch, but couldn’t he bully a Scarhead?
“Heh, laugh while you still can, Potter.
Have you even touched broom twigs before—” “AAAAAAAHHH!!!” *SWOOSH!* Like a cork popped by expanding beer, Neville screamed as he shot past them into the air.
“What the hell just shot past?!” The gust of wind blasted Malfoy’s face, leaving him in a rare moment of utter daze.
Neville rose and fell vertically above their heads, swaying left and right, screaming at the top of his lungs, spinning higher into the air, and then— *THUD!!!!!* Madam Hooch rushed off to the Hospital Wing with Neville, whose wrist was broken.
“Neville’s actually pretty tough to be able to walk after falling from that high,” Ariana muttered to herself.
“They didn’t even bring a stretcher?” No one paid attention to her, because Malfoy and Harry were at each other’s throats over the glass sphere Neville had dropped.
Malfoy, full of pent-up anger from Ariana and always picking on the weak, sneered maliciously, threatening to hide the ball in a tree for Neville to find.
Harry told him to hand it over.
Malfoy taunted him to come get it if he had the guts.
Then, in the flash of a second, both of them took to the sky.
Ariana: ???
Wait, we haven’t even gotten to that part of the lesson yet!
How do you two already know how to fly?!
Especially you, Harry!
Didn’t you say you grew up in the Muggle world and had never even touched a broomstick branch before?!
What happened next was even more absurd.
As if he had taken some magical elixir, Harry not only knew how to fly, but he could also catch a ball mid-air, accelerate while diving down to catch it, and execute a thrilling emergency broom brake one foot off the ground.
And then Professor McGonagall marched him away.
Ariana stood on the lawn, unable to snap out of her stupor for a long time.
How should she describe this feeling?
It was like going to take a driving test with a friend—you said you hadn’t practiced, he said he hadn’t practiced either, but the moment he sat behind the wheel, *BAM*, he drifted a mobility scooter!
Or taking an exam together—you said you didn’t study, he said he hadn’t even opened the textbook, and when the results came out, he scored a hundred percent!
Malfoy was laughing loudly nearby, claiming Harry was definitely going to be expelled by their Head of House.
Ariana didn’t hear a single word.
She stared blankly down at the half-worn broom in her hand, her gaze gradually shifting into sheer determination.
Neville could fly, Harry could fly, Malfoy could fly—everyone could fly, so why couldn’t she?
She didn’t believe it!
Ariana imitated Harry, kicked off with both feet, and launched into the air!
The wind brushed gently against her face.
She felt the temperature of the sunlight grow a bit warmer before realizing a beat late—oh, she was actually flying.
She wasn’t flying very high, just up to the treetops.
She could see the blades of grass on the lawn swaying gently, and the Black Lake in the distance reflecting light like a giant sheet of dark glass.
The broom trembled gently between her legs, then the vibrations grew stronger, carrying her up and down like riding ocean waves.
Perhaps it was the sunlight, or perhaps the glare off the Black Lake or the leaves—either way, various glints of light twisted together, turning bizarre and disorienting amidst the bumps of the broom beneath her.
Ariana felt her mouth salivating, cold sweat breaking out on her back.
She felt as though she were back on that crowded bus on a winding road, running an errand for Mrs.
Brown, her stomach churning violently.
Suppressing her intense discomfort, she recalled Malfoy’s movements earlier—Harry’s wild, wide-open maneuvers definitely weren’t suited for her—she leaned her body forward slightly, and the broom gradually angled downward, getting closer and closer to the ground.
Malfoy looked up, slanting his eyes at Ariana, ready to hurl mockingly: “Ha!
Turtle speed!
What’s the matter, Ritchie, you think…” *CRASH!* In the dazed, dizzy light, Ariana vaguely recognized the person below as someone she knew.
Her body wobbled, she tumbled off the broom, and with a heavy *thud*, she tackled straight into him.
“AAAGH!
RITCHIE!!” Serving as a human landing pad, Malfoy barely survived being flattened.
Pinned to the ground like a turtle, he raised his head and let out a furious roar.
Ariana slumped forward, dizzy and nauseous: “BLEAGH!” “AAAAAAAHHH!!!
MY ROBES!!
DAMN YOU, RITCHIE!!
I’LL KILL YOU SOONER OR LATER!!!”