"I don't know either. Professor Snape hasn't given me any notice of confinement yet," Harry said, his voice tinged with fear.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "If you're so scared now, you shouldn't have been so impulsive earlier."
"I'm not impulsive," Harry retorted.
Hermione withdrew her hands from "Quidditch Origins" and remarked, "In summary, it's not worth it. You only got scolded because you won."
"I can't even imagine what would happen if Slytherins ganged up on you," she continued.
"No, you don't understand, Hermione," Harry protested.
"Mr. Peregrine, do you see him saying something like that again!" Hermione's anger flared. Despite being in different houses, there was no denying Harry's breach of school rules, yet he showed no intention of avoiding punishment.
Observing this eleven-year-old girl, resolute and unwavering, Harry realized she lacked the ability to engage in debate.
But deep down, she felt Harry needn't have fought over such a trivial matter.
"Thank you for your concern," Felix finally interjected, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. "I'll refrain from commenting."
It had been five days since he left Nurmengard, making it the Thursday of the second week.
Grindelwald, undoubtedly half-mad, had once delved deep into dark magic. No matter how rational and refined he had been before, the study of dark arts over forty-six years of imprisonment had dragged him into the abyss of various desires.
Felix likened Grindelwald to a drowning man grasping at straws in a swift current, clutching desperately for survival.
As for who the straw was that saved his life... he dared not inquire or speak of it...
Since that departure, Felix hadn't sought him out again.
"Now then," Felix glanced at the time. "It's time for afternoon class. Are you both ready?"
"Ready, Captain!" Harry stood up eagerly.
Hermione quickly resumed reading "Quidditch Origins," muttering to herself, "Lifting the broom head means up, down... left and right..."
Harry shrugged. "Flying's the easiest. If you struggle, just jump from a height and let the broom pick you up. Take it one step at a time."
Hermione responded with an eye roll.
"Captain, we're off!" Harry announced.
"Go ahead," Felix waved, ushering the two children out of the office.
However, shortly after, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
Only half of the older students peeked in. "Sir, I just saw two classmates leaving here. Is this the reading room?"
…
…
At three-thirty in the afternoon, first-year students from Slytherin and Gryffindor hurried down the steps, arriving at the field in front of the door.
Today marked their first flying lesson. The verdant lawn swayed gently beneath their feet, while beyond lay the forest, its treetops dancing in the wind.
Their flying instructor was Mrs. Hooch, sporting short gray hair and eagle-like golden eyes.
With a sharp whistle, Mrs. Hooch commanded the attention of the young wizards.
"All right, what are you waiting for? Each of you, mount a broomstick."
Slytherin and Gryffindor stood facing each other in two rows, each with a broomstick beside them.
Harry peered down, his heart skipping a beat. The broom appeared old and worn, with numerous burrs that he feared might prick his hands.
"Extend your right hand and place it on the broom handle," Mrs. Hooch instructed from the front. "Then say, 'Up!'"
"Up," Harry called out, and the broom obediently flew into his hand.
Across from him, Hermione's broom merely rolled along the ground.
Mrs. Hooch proceeded to explain the instructions in detail, and after some time, all the brooms were finally in their hands.
Just as Harry contemplated taking off, a round-faced Gryffindor boy kicked off before Mrs. Hooch blew her whistle.
"Come back!" Mrs. Hooch's expression turned stern, but the boy had already begun ascending.
Listening to the screams beside him, Harry remembered the boy's name was Neville. He'd heard it in Potions class before, though it had slipped his mind until now. Gripping his wand tightly, he prepared himself.
"Hermione, keep an eye on him. As soon as he lands, we'll cast a levitation spell," Harry instructed.
He sighed inwardly, almost on the brink of tears. "Don't joke with me, mate. It's been ages since I last flew. Do I really have to mess up such a simple hobby?"
He felt compelled to ensure nothing went wrong, but his classmate appeared bulky, and he worried whether he could handle the weight and gravitational force alone.
"Huh?!" Hermione hadn't reacted yet.
Ignoring Hermione's confusion, Harry continued to focus on Neville, observing his frightened and pale face. Gasping for air, Neville's panic caused his grip to weaken, and his hand slipped from the broom.
"Now!" Harry exclaimed.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry waved his wand fiercely.
Neville's descent slowed abruptly, allowing Hermione's spell to follow suit, ensuring a smooth landing.
"Oh my God!" Mrs. Hooch rushed over to help Neville up. "Are you all right, dear?"
"No, it's okay," Neville mumbled weakly.
Mrs. Hooch's heart clenched. "Is it really okay?" She admonished herself for potentially traumatizing the child.
Addressing the rest of the class, she declared, "I'll take Neville to the infirmary. None of you are to move! Return the broomsticks to their places. Any defiance will result in immediate expulsion from Hogwarts. Off we go, Neville."
However, before Mrs. Hooch could lead Neville away, laughter erupted from the group.
"Did you see his face, that bumbling oaf?"
The Slytherin students joined in the mockery.
"Shut it, Malfoy," Parvati Patil snapped.
"Protecting Longbottom, are we?" Pansy Parkinson sneered. "Didn't expect you to take a liking to the chubby crybaby, Patil."
"Look!" Malfoy exclaimed, grabbing something from the grass. "It's something that idiot Longbottom's grandmother gave him."
Harry glanced over. "If finding joy in others' misfortune brings solace to your pitiful hearts, then laugh at me."
Approaching Malfoy, Harry snatched the memory ball from him.
"It's my invitation."
"Potter!" Malfoy seethed. "Let's settle this with a contest."
"What kind of contest?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"A flying contest with broomsticks!" Malfoy's anger fueled his arrogance. With ample flying experience, he believed he could easily outmaneuver Potter.
"Forget it," Harry shook his head. "Flying prowess is all you have over me. If I happen to outdo you again, I'd be genuinely concerned for your mental well-being. I'll wait for Mrs. Hooch to return, and then we'll fly safely."
Handing the memory ball to a boy named Seamus, who seemed close to Neville, Harry said, "Here you go."
"Thanks," Seamus replied gratefully.
"You're welcome."
"You don't act like a Slytherin," the two Gryffindor boys chuckled.
"No," Harry shook his head with a smile. "But I do have a bit of a Slytherin streak in me."
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Translator's Notes:
Hello everyone , this is the last chapter of the week.
Don't forget to give a review or a power stone to raise the visibility of the story if you want to.
And remember that you can read up to 10 translated chapters in advance on my patreon.
Anyway, have a nice Friday and weekend everyone.
Bye.
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