"Oh my god, why did we have to have flying class with the group of Slytherins," Ron said as he and the other Gryffindor's looked at the notice on the wall of the Gryffindor lounge.
While the Slytherins were excited about Quidditch, Draco was only interested in flying and did not seem to care about the wizarding world's sport. He was almost too addicted to flying when she was away at home, so he wasn't excited now.
"Why don't you talk about your experience," Pansy asked, curious.
"Nothing to say," Draco shook his head.
"Boring," Pan Xi pouted, clearly frustrated with this answer.
"Draco wants to talk about his adventure on a broomstick!" Pansy shouted suddenly.
Suddenly, many Slytherin students gathered around. Slytherin worshipped the strong, and Draco, who had earned a lot of points for Slytherin just a few days before the start of the school, was naturally seen as a strong figure in the eyes of these little snakes. He also came from a famous pure-blood family, so they were naturally very interested in hearing about Draco's previous experiences, especially when it came to flying broomsticks.
"Uh..." Draco pretended to think and searched for a more reasonable story to tell. He then gave Pansy a hard look.
Pansy returned the grumpy smile.
"In the forbidden area of our house..." Draco began his story.
Influenced by online novels in his previous life, Draco easily compiled a believable story that left the other Slytherins in awe.
After the story, Pansy secretly asked, "Can I come to your house to play next time?"
Draco responded blankly, "I just made it up now."
Pansy's face fell, "Then you were just pretending it was real."
"I haven't asked you to settle the account yet. Who thought you made it for me?" Draco asked.
"I suddenly remembered that Professor McGonagall's homework wasn't finished yet," Pansy said, trying to make an excuse to slip away.
"And many more," Draco replied.
"Oh," Pansy said, lowering her head slowly and making a show of knowing she was in trouble. "Just punish me."
"Little witch," Draco, who knew she was acting, could only stand there.
"Eat more candy sugar, keep your mouth busy, and say less in the future," Draco said as he took out a few packages of gorgeously packed candy and stuck them in Pansy's hands.
It had to be said that Narcissa was very diligent in sending Draco snacks.
Pansy stared at Draco.
"Don't get me wrong, you can understand that I'm just bribing you. I can't eat all of this sugar by myself," Draco explained in a far-fetched way.
"It's a heartfelt gift, and I accept it with compassion for your sincerity," Pansy said, although her eyes betrayed her true intentions. It was clear that there were more than one person with a heartfelt desire for the sweets.
Never underestimate the power of sweets on girls.
Soon it was time for the afternoon class that all of the students were looking forward to - flying lessons! The weather was perfect - sunny and not too hot, with a gentle breeze blowing. The Gryffindor students hurried down the stairs and walked across the field to a flat lawn. The grass rippled slightly under their feet as they walked. On the other side of the lawn was the forest, and the trees in the distance swayed in the wind.
The Slytherin students were already there, with twenty flying brooms neatly arranged on the ground.
Their teacher, Mrs. Rolanda Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair and yellow eyes, like those of an eagle.
"Okay, what are you guys waiting for?" She snapped. "Everyone stand beside a flying broom. Quick, quick, hurry up."
Looking at the broom at his feet, Draco shook his head. The old, broken, and shabby broom had sticks protruding out and some dust sticking to the handle.
"From frugality to extravagance is easy, but from extravagance to frugality is difficult," Draco thought to himself.
"Extend your right hand and place it over the broomstick," Mrs. Rolanda Hooch shouted in front. "Then say: 'Up!' "
"Up!" everyone shouted. Draco also pretended to follow suit. For those who were already very skilled, it would be torture to do such exercises. So Draco could only choose to passively go through the motions.
Mrs. Rolanda Hooch showed the students how to ride a broom without falling off. She walked around the group, correcting their grip on the broom.
Harry and Ron, like the other students, were doing well following Ms. Rolanda Hooch instructions. Hermione was a bit uncomfortable and seemed to be less skilled at sports. Neville was shaking and sweating profusely, clearly very nervous.
"Okay, as soon as I whistle, you kick your legs off the ground and push hard," Ms. Rolanda Hooch said. "Hold the broom steady, rise a few feet, then lean forward slightly and fall back to the ground vertically. Listen to my whistle - three, two -"
However, Neville was too nervous. He didn't want to be laughed at by the others anymore and, with low self-esteem, wanted to prove himself. He didn't wait for the whistle and kicked hard, flying up.
"Oh, poor little fat man," Draco thought sympathetically.
"Come back, boy!" Mrs. Rolanda Hooch shouted.
But it was clear that Neville couldn't control his broom. Like the addition of a booster, Neville flew higher and higher, seeming to remember his unhappy childhood experience of being accidentally dropped from a high building. Neville's face became even paler, and he only felt his strength being drained from him.
He grabbed the broom violently, but to no avail. The power gradually drained from his body, and finally the contact between his hand and the broom became shorter and shorter until he completely fell off.000000
The tragedy seemed imminent.
"Wingardium Leviosa. Wingardium Le Viosa," Draco quietly chanted the spell to Neville in the air. Only Pansy behind him heard.
"Ohhhh," Neville, who should have fallen quickly, seemed to be experiencing some resistance. His speed of descent was not as fast as expected.
"Thank goodness," Mrs. Rolanda Hooch said as she ran quickly to the lawn where Neville had landed. She checked his injuries. "Miracle!" she exclaimed. Neville had hardly been hurt at all. "But I still have to send you to the hospital for a check," Mrs. Rolanda Hooch said, taking Neville's arm and leading him to the hospital. Even if he wasn't injured, Neville's calf was already shaking with fear.
"No! My memory ball, and my broom!" Neville suddenly shouted, seeming to remember something.
"The memory ball is flying!" Draco had already seen something falling on the grass, so he used a flying charm to retrieve it.
"I think it's better to put these things in the dormitory or somewhere safe during flying lessons," Draco said as he handed the memory ball back to Neville.
"Thank you, thank you," Neville said, not knowing what else to say.
"As for the broom, I think our savior already has it for you," Draco said, glancing to the side.
"No!" Hermione shouted loudly, but Harry ignored her. The blood pounded in his ears as he immediately rode his flying broom and pedaled off the ground, soaring into the air as the wind whipped through his hair and the robe fluttered behind him.
Neville's broom was drifting towards the forbidden forest.
Harry only felt how free he was, flying with the wind as if nothing in the world could restrain him. Snape and those assignments could go to hell. Speed up, speed up! He got closer and closer to the broom until it was within reach.
Harry extended his hand and grabbed the worn broom tightly.
The Gryffindor students cheered, but Hermione was a little unhappy, still holding a grudge against him for breaking the rules. As for the Slytherin students, they were even more unhappy because their opponents were showing off.
Then Harry controlled the broom and landed on the grass steadily. In an instant, a lot of little lions surrounded him, watching their hero.
Harry was very proud of himself. He had finally found where his talent lay. When he grabbed the broom and flew into the sky, it felt like a part of his body. He could do anything he wanted. It was a wonderful feeling.
"Harry Potter!" His heart sank suddenly as Professor McGonagall made him fall from the clouds.
"I've been at Hogwarts for so many years - never -" Professor McGonagall was so surprised that she couldn't speak. Her glasses flashed with anger, "How dare you - you'll break your neck -"
"It's not his fault, Professor-"
"Shut up, Miss Petil-"
"He was trying to help Neville get the broom, Professor." Even Hermione, who had just spoken to stop the argument, explained.
"Needless to say," Professor McGonagall said, cutting off further explanation.
Professor McGonagall strode towards the castle, and Harry followed mechanically.
"Will I be expelled?" Harry worried, not knowing where to start when trying to explain.
"History always repeats itself," Draco silently watched McGonagall take Harry away. If nothing else, Gryffindor would soon have the youngest-looking player again.
"Did you say the savior would be expelled?" Pansy pulled on Draco's robe.
"I don't think so," Draco turned back and whispered.
"That's really boring," Pansy muttered. "By the way, what spell did you just say? It's useless without a wand."
"It's just a floating spell," Draco replied.
"Are you actually helping a Gryffindor?" Pansy asked in surprise.
"Take advantage of this opportunity to practice wandless cast."
"Do you think I will believe it?"
"So what do you want me to explain?" Draco stared at Pansy.
Pansy just wanted to ask, only to remember that he "bridged" a lot of candy. Cannibal soft mouth.
"If you don't say it, don't say it." Pansy turned her head to the side, as if Draco made her angry.
"I can't say that he was the character I liked the most when I read novels in my past life," Draco thought to himself.
Everyone wants to be like Harry, but they might just be Neville. Who didn't have a hero dream as a kid? Now that he has the ability, Draco is still willing to give some appropriate help to Neville. In his previous life, Neville's counterattack had given him even more motivation than Harry did.
After all, most people's experiences may be as ordinary as Neville's, or even worse.