A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 47 Flight Lesson Ends

Amidst Ms. Hodge's screams, everyone in the room hurriedly stuffed their wands back into their pockets and stood in two messy rows once again.

Irving watched this unusual scene with great interest, then returned to the line, looking thoughtfully at Draco, who was furious.

At this moment, Draco stood with his arms crossed, turning his head away from everyone, his hands gripping the flying broom tightly, his knuckles cracking, his lips moving silently, his pale, thin face flushed red.

Harry was just standing up from the grass in the distance when he saw Professor McGonagall rushing towards him.

Professor McGonagall breathed a deep sigh of relief upon seeing Harry stand up unharmed, then a flash of surprise and anger crossed her eyes. She had just passed by when she saw Harry plummeting down from the sky on his flying broomstick; heaven knows, she nearly jumped back in fright—he might have broken his neck!

"Potter, how dare you... In all my years at Hogwarts, I have never..." Professor McGonagall said angrily.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I..." Harry held up the memory orb in his hand and swallowed hard.

"Dive fifty feet and grab this thing." Professor McGonagall looked at him with a complicated expression. "You did something remarkable... but that's no excuse for your recklessness! If there's a next time—"

"It won't happen again, Professor, I promise!" Harry practically raised his hand to swear. He almost thought he was going to be expelled.

"Alright." Professor McGonagall's eyes showed a hint of relief and regret. "I think you could consider joining the Quidditch team next year. I think you would be an excellent Seeker... Your father would be proud of you." She said hastily, "It's a pity that such a good prospect isn't Gryffindor."

"Alright, you should go back to class now." She quickly left.

"...I really don't know, I was only gone for a little while, are you all trying to rebel?" Madam Hooch sternly reprimanded the group of young wizards. "This is a flying lesson, you don't need to be waving your wands like fools! Or do you think waving your wands randomly will help you fly more steadily?"

Owen had no idea what was going on and could only innocently accept the scolding. The group of young wizards, dejected after being reprimanded, looked like trembling quails.

"And you, Potter!" Harry was met with a scathing rebuke from Madam Hooch as soon as he ran over. "Do you know how dangerous what you did was? If you had made even the slightest mistake, you could have broken every bone in your body, or shoved your head into the mud!"

Ms. Foster was furious; nothing like this had ever happened in her flight classes in all these years.

Only after scolding each of the young wizards until they dared not raise their heads again did she calm down and begin to praise Owen's actions: "Of course, I must commend Shafik. Although he also flew into the sky without permission..." She gave Owen a warning glance, then smiled, "but he beautifully rescued Longbottom and helped him overcome his fear and master the art of flight."

"It's not easy to do that; you've done what I, as your teacher, should do. All I can say is, well done! For that, I'll give you an extra twenty points," she said.

Owen smiled at Madam Hooch. Most of the Gryffindor students opposite him looked at him with complicated expressions, clearly not expecting him to save someone. Neville wore a genuine smile, genuinely happy for Owen. Noticing Owen's gaze, he involuntarily stood up straight, his expression a mixture of unease and anticipation.

"An aspiration? And that's how he gained a little fan?" Irving clicked his tongue in amazement, then laughed it off.

Well, it seems like there won't be many Gryffindors bothering him anymore. That's good news.

For the remainder of the flying lesson, Ms. Hooch carefully allowed each student to take turns flying, and had Owen and a few others who flew well demonstrate. Neville flew more and more steadily, while Harry fully unleashed his flying talent, flying even better than the older students, eliciting gasps of amazement from Ms. Hooch.

"It's such a shame you're not on the Quidditch team," she remarked. "A true flying genius!"

Daphne wasn't very good at flying. She tried to fly cautiously, as nervously as a first-time driver, just as unsteady as Hermione. The two almost collided in mid-air before landing awkwardly on their own.

"I still think it feels better to be down-to-earth," Daphne muttered to herself.

Pansy was distracted, her gaze occasionally sweeping over Draco and Harry. Since their previous argument, the two hadn't even glanced at each other, acting as if they were sworn enemies, which annoyed her.

One is the boy she has admired and chased for years, and the other is a famous and respected idol. Why can't the two of them get along? The things they argue about aren't really that big of a deal.

Pansy is so tired; all she wants to do is enjoy following her idols...

As the class ended, Owen once again garnered many complex glances from the Gryffindors. In youth, thoughts are less complicated; black is black, white is white. When one begins to change their opinion of someone, that initial confrontational feeling quietly disappears.

Of course, the most surprising one is Harry. Owen had already learned what happened from Blaise and Daphne. The various differences in Harry and Draco's values ​​finally came to a head. It has to be said that if they can overcome this hurdle, they will probably build a strong friendship in the future; if they can't, they will inevitably go their separate ways.

Harry's courageous act of standing up for his friends and upholding justice earned him the unanimous approval of the Gryffindors, and everyone heard his words from the air. Now, quite a few students who previously kept their distance because of his house are coming to get to know him, for example…

"Ron Weasley." The boy with fiery red hair and freckles extended his hand to Harry. "I wanted to say, you did a great job with what happened before!"

Harry forced a smile and shook his hand. He wasn't in a good mood at all.

Their eyes involuntarily met Draco's, and the two of them simultaneously snorted and turned their heads away in mutual dislike.

"Owen, what do you want to eat tonight?" Blaise asked, clutching his rumbling stomach.

"Hmm, tender steak and lemonade, and it would be even better with a plate of sunflower seeds." Owen winked and smiled, and the group walked towards the auditorium.

The sky had darkened, and a phantom moon hung obliquely in the bluish-gray sky, while a few particularly bright stars twinkled in the distance, suspended among the mountains.

Warm yellow lights illuminated the castle, and bursts of laughter echoed from the auditorium.

(End of this chapter)