Fred dropped his raised hand.
Farther up the field, Madam Hooch stood at the boundary between the beginner section and Gryffindor’s practice pitch.
She had already inspected the three padded hoops, rejected Fred’s proposed wall, and reminded the twins that Adrian was permitted to fly only while she remained on the grounds.
Adrian pushed away from the chalk line.
This time, he kept his eyes on the open centre of the first hoop instead of staring at the wooden rim.
He entered the turn gently.
For a few seconds, it worked.
The broom began following his lean without resisting.
Adrian felt the difference and immediately made the mistake of trying to improve it further.
He pulled the handle halfway through the turn.
The broom jerked inward.
Adrian passed through the hoop, but his left shoulder clipped the padded edge.
The impact spun him sideways, sending him wobbling toward the grass.
He managed to remain mounted and landed heavily several yards beyond the marker.
George was less impressed.
“Touching a hoop during a real race costs you speed.
A bad hit knocks you off entirely.” Susan remained seated on the fence.
“Your entry looked better,” she observed.
“Until you remembered you were Adrian and attempted to control every inch of the turn.” George took the broom away and ordered Adrian to walk through the course.
Fred called the removal of the broom a betrayal of flying practice.
George ignored him and made Adrian repeat the route on foot: look through the hoop, turn toward the exit, let the shoulders and hips follow, then find the next obstacle.
By Adrian’s second pass, the problem was obvious.
He continued watching each hoop after clearing it, leaving himself late for the next turn.
George began tapping the back of his head whenever his attention remained behind him.
“He also stiffens before every turn,” Susan observed from the fence.
“He expects to fail before it begins.” George watched Adrian make another pass.
His shoulders rose, his knees locked, and his weight shifted backward as soon as he approached a curve.
He was trying so hard to prevent the mistake that he created it himself.
George returned the broom and had Adrian hover only a few inches above the grass while he checked his posture.
Adrian’s hands were tight around the handle, and his knees clamped the wood as though it might escape.
“Your legs should hold you securely, but you cannot lock your entire lower body,” George explained.
Fred demonstrated the opposite extreme, sitting sideways on his broom with both hands behind his head.
“Do not copy anything Fred does unless I confirm it first,” George told Adrian.
George steadied the front while Adrian shifted his weight left, right, and forward.
The broom responded before his hands moved.
For the first time, Adrian felt how much of the turn began in his hips and centre of balance rather than the handle.
Susan watched his repeated hip movements from the fence.
“At least one part of this lesson appears useful outside Quidditch,” she remarked mildly.
George reduced the course.
Instead of three hoops, Adrian had to fly repeatedly through only the first one.
The goal was not speed, but executing the proper sequence.
The next few attempts exposed a different mistake each time.
Adrian leaned too little and drifted wide, then leaned so far that his boot nearly scraped the grass.
On the fifth attempt, he completed the curve cleanly only to accelerate too early and ruin the landing.
The sixth was slow, but everything finally remained together.
He looked through the hoop, leaned with the broom, completed the curve, and landed without stumbling.
It was his first fully controlled turn.
George acknowledged it with a brief nod.
Fred complained that the lesson was becoming dangerously responsible.
Fred argued that Adrian could only perform the movement because nobody was pressuring him.
George rejected both practice Bludgers and moving hoops before agreeing to a safer version of Fred’s idea.
Fred followed Adrian through the course on another broom, staying close enough to pressure him without making contact.
Adrian pushed off.
Fred followed immediately.
At the first hoop, Adrian heard Fred gaining behind him and instinctively pulled the handle.
The broom swung wide.
Adrian caught himself, loosened his hand, turned his head, and allowed his hips to follow the curve.
He cleared the first hoop.
Approaching the second, Fred yelled that Cho would already be a lap ahead.
Adrian almost looked backward.
“Stop listening to Fred!” Susan called from the fence.
Adrian kept his eyes on the exit and cleared the second hoop.
His third turn remained poor.
He entered too fast, clipped the padded edge with his knee, and landed badly beyond the finish line.
He had completed the full course, but not cleanly.
Fred called the completed course a success.
George looked at Adrian’s bruised knee and downgraded it to survival.
While Adrian rested, the sounds of Gryffindor practice drifted across the grounds.
On the main pitch, Oliver Wood shouted instructions while Harry flew high above the team.
Harry dove after one of the practice balls and pulled up smoothly.
His hands barely moved; his body and broom changed direction together.
Susan sat beside Adrian on the grass.
“Does watching him make the race feel easier or worse?” “It makes the mistake clearer,” Adrian said.
“Harry moves before the broom needs correcting.
I wait for something to go wrong.” “That explains more than your flying.” George called Adrian back before he could ask what else she meant.
With the light fading and dinner approaching, George allowed Adrian one final attempt.
Fred was not allowed to follow, there would be no shouted instructions, and speed did not matter.
Touching the grass or a hoop meant failure.
Susan left the fence and stood beside the finish marker.
Fred held one hand above the starting line.
Fred dropped his hand.
Adrian pushed off.
Approaching the first hoop, he looked through the centre.
His head turned toward the exit.
His shoulders and hips followed.
The broom curved without a fight.
His alignment for the second hoop was poor.
He felt the urge to make one massive correction, but forced himself to make two small shifts instead: a slight lean, and a minimal handle adjustment.
He entered near the edge but passed through cleanly.
He approached the third hoop moving faster than before.
His grip began to tighten.
He saw Susan waiting near the finish line and realized his hands were locking again.
He forced his fingers to loosen.
The broom settled.
He took the final curve widely but cleanly and crossed the chalk finish line.
His landing remained heavy.
Both boots struck the ground hard, and he had to run two steps to avoid falling forward, but he remained upright.
He had completed all three hoops without a single collision.
The system appeared only after he came to a complete halt.
[TRAINING MILESTONE COMPLETED] [Complete a three-hoop beginner course without collision.] [Aerial Balance Fragment ×1] [15 PP] [PP Balance: 330 → 345] As Adrian shifted his weight, he immediately noticed his shoulders pulling slightly against the broom.
When his knees tightened, he felt his balance slide backward before the movement became visible.
The fragment did not correct either mistake for him.
It simply allowed him to notice them sooner.
[Aerial Balance: 1/10 fragments] As the twins began dismantling the hoops, an older Hufflepuff Chaser approached the shed carrying a crate of training Quaffles.
He had been practising on the main pitch and had watched several of Adrian’s attempts while waiting for Gryffindor to finish.
He placed the crate beside the shed and glanced at the old school broom in Adrian’s hand.
“Remedial practice?” “Cho Chang challenged him to a rematch,” Fred explained.
“We are attempting to ensure he survives long enough to lose.” The Chaser looked toward the three low hoops.
“First lesson was last week?” Adrian nodded.
“Your final turn was wide, your landing was heavy, and that speed would not trouble a real Seeker,” the older student said.
“But you improved quickly, and you didn’t panic when the second hoop pushed you off line.” Adrian glanced at the Hufflepuff crest on his practice robes.
“Is the house team looking for another Seeker?” “The captain is always watching for players.
That does not mean first-years can simply join practice.” The Chaser lifted the crate again.
“Professor Sprout would have to approve an exception, and Madam Hooch would need to confirm that you can fly safely at match height.” He started toward the shed, then paused.
“Keep practising.
If you still look promising after Halloween, I might mention you to the captain.” Once the Chaser entered the shed, Fred announced that Adrian had attracted the attention of Hufflepuff’s professional talent scouts.
“One school Chaser offered to mention him to the captain someday,” George corrected.
It was still more attention than Adrian had expected after completing one beginner course.
They dismantled the course and started back toward the castle.
Adrian’s knee throbbed, and his thighs ached each time the path climbed.
“Next session, we add speed,” George said.
“And reconsider the wall,” Fred added.
Susan walked beside Adrian.
“You have three days to become good enough to survive whatever Cho has planned.” Adrian looked back at the three hoops beside the broom shed.
He had completed the course once without hitting anything.
On Saturday, he would need to do it three times with Cho beside him.
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