"Oh, heavens, why does my dream of flying have to collide with those Slytherin guys?"
Looking at the notice on the wall detailing the schedule for the flying lessons, the Gryffindor first-years discovered they would be sharing the class with their Slytherin counterparts.
Both Ron and Harry were brimming with excitement about the flying lessons, a yearning stronger than any other desire they had.
Especially Ron, who had once declared on the night he learned his magical attributes, "I love the feeling of soaring freely in the sky."
What dismayed Ron, Harry, and Hermione, however, was how Draco Malfoy never missed a chance to mock them, making it all the more unbearable.
"This is revenge born out of unrequited love, Harry!"
"Malfoy despises us, yet he's got a soft spot for you. You rejected him for our sake, and now he's taking it out on us!"
Ron suddenly grabbed Harry by the robes, his face filled with despair.
Harry froze at Ron's words.
What the heck was this about?
Revenge born of unrequited love? Seriously, Ron, what goes on in that head of yours?
Hermione stared at the two boys in disbelief, her slender fingers gesturing in the air as if trying to find the right words. But in the end, she remained speechless, leaving her in a state of adorable frustration that made Ron momentarily dumbfounded.
"Hey, Weasley with the red hair, are you scared of me?"
"Ha! Don't be so tense. We'll make sure to take good care of you during flying lessons."
"Oh, and I'll show you who the real flying master is."
Draco Malfoy, flanked by his hulking lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle, had overheard Ron's outburst. He stopped in his tracks, turned around, and sneered at the trio.
Ron's expression darkened, but he still retorted defiantly, "Hmph, I'll show you that you're nothing but trash compared to me!"
Malfoy snorted in disdain, then turned his attention to Harry. "Harry, I'll make you realize that you've made a terrible choice. Associating with them will only drag down your status and taste."
With that, Malfoy left, leading Crabbe and Goyle away.
"Crabbe, Goyle, during the flying lesson this afternoon, make sure to teach them a lesson. Let them understand that we Slytherins are the strongest."
Crabbe and Goyle nodded obediently, grinning foolishly.
"This might get troublesome," Harry said with a sigh. "I just hope I don't embarrass myself too much in the flying lesson this afternoon."
Harry had never ridden a broomstick before, but he knew it wasn't an easy skill to master.
Watching Malfoy's retreating figure, Ron muttered under his breath, "That guy is so infuriating. He's all talk, always bragging about how great he is at Quidditch. Trust me, if anyone ends up embarrassed, it'll be him."
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's attempt at consolation. "You sure know how to comfort people."
Harry chuckled, shaking off his unease. "Let's see who ends up embarrassed this afternoon."
Malfoy often bragged loudly in front of his minions, ensuring the Gryffindors overheard so they would look at him with envy, feeding his vanity.
For instance, he frequently grumbled about how first-years weren't allowed to join the Quidditch team.
He also told thrilling stories where he was the hero, usually ending with him narrowly dodging a Muggle helicopter—a display of speed and courage meant to highlight his supposed flying prowess.
Of course, no one believed Malfoy could actually pull off such feats.
But Malfoy wasn't the only one who liked to embellish the truth. Seamus Finnigan and Ron Weasley were also known for their tall tales.
Seamus, for instance, often claimed he'd spent most of his childhood flying carefree across the countryside on a broomstick, a claim that made the broomless first-years green with envy.
"Do you have any tips for the flying lesson this afternoon?" Neville Longbottom asked nervously as he sat down next to Ron, clutching his lunch tray.
Harry and Ron hadn't expected Neville to ask such a question.
Sizing Neville up, Ron rubbed his belly and joked, "With your build, Neville, are you sure a broomstick can even lift you?"
Neville chuckled awkwardly. "My family owns a broomstick, but Gran never lets me near it."
"Hey, Neville, maybe you should give up. Your gran has a point—you're not cut out for flying dreams," Ron teased.
"But I want to give it a shot!" Neville said earnestly.
Seeing Neville's determined expression, Ron glanced at Harry, and the two of them turned to Hermione.
If anyone had tips, it had to be Hermione, the most knowledgeable among them.
Clearing her throat, Hermione said, "Since you're all looking at me, I suppose I'll reluctantly share what I know."
In truth, Hermione was just as nervous as Neville.
After all, learning to fly wasn't something one could grasp just by reading about it. It required actual practice.
Still, Hermione recounted what she had read in Quidditch Through the Ages, delivering her knowledge with great enthusiasm.
Harry and Ron listened in a daze, especially Ron, who found it hard to believe that Hermione—despite never having flown—could talk so much about it.
Neville, on the other hand, listened intently, fearing he might miss even a single word.
For Neville, this wasn't just about learning to fly. It was about protecting his pride and self-esteem in his very first flying lesson.
As Hermione spoke, the bustling noise of the Great Hall suddenly grew louder.
Looking up, they saw a flock of owls swooping in, dropping letters and packages from the sky into the hands of waiting wizards.
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