The moment the whistle sounded, before anyone else had time to move, an overly nervous Neville shot into the air on his broomstick.
"Mr Longbottom?" Madam Hooch watched Neville wobbling on the broom, rising and falling erratically, and her heart skipped a beat.
He was about to lose control.
"Down! Down!" Neville cried in alarm, but the broomstick clearly had no intention of obeying him. Instead, it carried him higher into the sky.
Like an unbroken horse, the broom spun sideways through a full circle beside the castle’s high walls and slammed about, trying to throw Neville off.
Neville clung desperately to the handle and refused to let go.
He might have been a little slow, but even he knew what would happen if he fell from that height. The Hogwarts lawn was no cushion.
Suddenly, the broom dived towards the ground and hurtled across the grass towards the students.
"Mr Longbottom!" Madam Hooch hurriedly drew her wand and aimed it at the approaching Neville, but she was clearly not fast enough to cast before the broom reached her.
A second before Neville crashed into her, she decisively abandoned the spell and threw herself to one side.
The students reacted just as quickly, retreating in both directions and leaving Neville a clear path.
A fierce gust whipped across Vade’s face, and the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.
He had always assumed that every Hogwarts professor was among the magical world’s elite, but Madam Hooch’s desperate dive had truly opened his eyes.
Her abilities seemed thoroughly ordinary by wizarding standards. He even suspected that, if he stopped holding back, he could defeat her in a direct confrontation.
Clearly, not every professor possessed the strength of a Head of House.
Neville then shot above the castle. As he passed a statue, the spear in its hand caught his robes, finally separating him from the runaway broomstick.
However, he was now more than twenty feet above the ground. Even worse, the spear was tearing through his robes.
With a loud rip, Neville fell.
Fortunately, a wall-mounted brazier caught him halfway down. With that breaking his fall, he only dropped the final few feet, so his injuries were not especially serious.
Neville curled into a ball on the lawn, groaning in pain.
Madam Hooch hurried over, helped him up, and examined his injuries. "A broken wrist. Poor boy.
"Come on, up you get."
"While I take him to the hospital wing, all of you are to keep your feet firmly on the ground.
"Is that understood? If I see a single broom in the air, whoever is riding it will be expelled before they can even say Quidditch."
Something silver glittered on the grass. Draco stepped forwards and picked it up. It was the Remembrall Neville had dropped.
"Did you see his face?" Draco said with a mocking laugh. "Perhaps if he’d been holding this, he would have remembered to land on his backside."
"Give it to me, Malfoy," Harry said, stepping forwards.
"No. I think I’ll hide it and make Longbottom look for it." Draco mounted his broom, circled the assembled students once, then flew higher. "How about somewhere on the roof?"
"What’s wrong, Potter? Can’t reach?" Draco called as he hovered in mid-air.
Harry drew an angry breath and moved to mount his broom.
Hermione hurriedly called out to stop him. "Harry, don’t! Think about what Madam Hooch said. Besides, you don’t even know how to fly."
Harry ignored her. He kicked off from the ground and rose into the air.
"What an idiot," Hermione said irritably.
"I warned you that trouble would become a regular feature of life in Gryffindor," Vade said with a quiet laugh. "Still, there’s no need to worry too much. Neither of them will be expelled."
"What?"
"You might not know this, but Draco’s father is a member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. His influence is not much less than Dumbledore’s."
As soon as he finished speaking, Crabbe and Goyle exchanged smiles, while the other Slytherins looked amused.
"What about Harry?" Ron asked.
"With his reputation as the Boy Who Lived, Headmaster Dumbledore will probably make an exception for him," Vade said with feigned uncertainty. "Besides, keeping Draco Malfoy while expelling Harry Potter would make Hogwarts look rather unfair."
"You’re as good at comforting people as ever," Hermione said speechlessly.
"Thank you for the compliment."
By then, Harry had already flown up to Draco.
"Give it to me, or I’ll knock you off your broom."
"Is that the best you can do?" Draco tossed the Remembrall lightly in one hand, his provocation obvious.
Harry leaned forwards and charged straight at him.
Draco hurriedly twisted his broom around and only just managed to evade him.
He was genuinely rattled. He clearly had not expected Harry to have the nerve to ram him.
Either Harry already knew how to play Quidditch and was completely confident, or there was something wrong with his head. In Draco’s view, it was definitely the latter.
"Crabbe and Goyle aren’t up here to help you," Harry reminded him.
Draco’s expression changed slightly. "If you want it, go and get it!"
With that, he tossed the Remembrall into the air and hurled it away with all his strength before diving towards the lawn.
Harry immediately accelerated after it and caught it just before it smashed through the window of Professor McGonagall’s office.
He raised it triumphantly as he flew back towards the grounds, while a group of Gryffindors ran forwards cheering to meet him.
"Great catch, Harry!"
"That was brilliant, Harry!"
Quidditch was probably the decoy’s greatest talent.
Something stirred in Vade’s mind, and he sighed with inexplicable emotion. "So it begins."
"What begins?" Daphne asked in confusion.
"The wheels of history roll ever onwards, but there are always one or two crucial turning points.
"Today, just now, the great Boy Who Lived revealed his talent, while young Master Malfoy found the greatest rival he’ll face during his seven years at Hogwarts."
"Him?" Draco said indignantly.
"As though Potter could compare," Pansy sneered. "Apart from a little talent for flying, I can’t see anything special about him. He’s been dreadful in every other subject. How could he possibly compare with Malfoy?"
"Besides, Flying isn’t even included in the examinations, is it?"
"Just wait and see.
"I’m certain he’ll accomplish great things in the future."
"You’re certain?" Theodore could not help interrupting. "Who do you think you are, a prophet?"
"Watch your tone, Nott," Daphne said.
"Ahem." Vade looked at the girl defending him and coughed twice, his feelings complicated. "I’m not a prophet, but I am a Seer.
"Come to me whenever you need a divination. It only costs ten Galleons per reading.
"And that is the current price. It will rise in the future."
"Ten Galleons?" Theodore’s eyes widened, and he slowly turned towards Daphne. "You don’t actually believe him, do you?"
"That’s none of your business."
(To be continued.)