Harry Potter Returns from Baldur's Gate

Even laymen like Harry and Hermione knew that it would be unsafe to fly on the remaining brooms when they saw them.

But there are no other brooms available now. These are the leftovers from other people's work. Just tell me if you want them.

Obviously, Harry and Hermione had no choice, so they could only hold their noses and pick out two brooms that were not so crooked from a crowd of crooked ones.

She returned to the lawn with her broom, and Madam Hooch, who was waiting there, spoke sharply.

"All right, what are you waiting for?" she snapped. "Everyone get next to a broomstick. Quick, quick, hurry up."

Harry put the broom at his feet and looked at it. It was old and broken, and many of the branches were sticking out like his hairstyle at the moment.

"Stretch out your right hand and place it on the broom handle," Ms. Hooch shouted from the front, "and then say: 'Get up!'"

"Get up!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hands at once, but one of the few brooms that obeyed was so obedient.

Hermione's broom was just like a sleepy cat at first. After Hermione said "get up", it rolled on the ground and stopped moving.

Then, after a flash of lightning at Hermione's fingertips, the broom immediately jumped into Hermione's hand.

It was as if he had just rolled on the ground just to adjust the angle.

Neville, who had just had a brief negotiation with Harry, was also holding a broom in his hand.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off their heads, walking up and down the line and correcting their hand grips.

"Okay, when I blow the whistle, you push your legs off the ground, and push hard." Madam Hooch.

"Hold the broom steady, rise a few feet, then lean forward slightly and drop straight back to the ground. Listen to my whistle... three, two, one! Push!"

As Madam Hooch blew the whistle, a group of people flew into the sky on broomsticks.

Riding on a broom, Harry became even more certain that the wizards here didn't know how to ride at all.

Sitting astride a stick that can be held in one hand is never a pleasant experience.

Following his past experience of riding, Harry placed his feet on the stirrups of the broom and half-crouched as if it was leg day at the gym, determined not to put his butt on the broom.

The rapid takeoff just now made Harry worry that if he put his feet on the pedals a little slower during takeoff, he would lose everything.

From this point alone, Harry felt that riding a broom without a saddle was as dangerous as it could be.

While he was worried about losing everything, Harry knew what was going on when he saw Hermione riding the broom in the same posture as him.

Flying in the sky on a stick is not only not very friendly to men.

Even women are treated unkindly.

In this case, your own broom saddle should be very useful.

Just as Harry was thinking this, he suddenly heard a scream.

"Hermione!"

Harry turned his head and saw that the broom Hermione was riding was shaking unnaturally as it flew.

The branches tied to the wooden sticks were like autumn leaves, falling down continuously.

"Come back, child!" Madam Hooch called to Hermione.

Harry could tell from Hermione's expression that she was struggling to control her broom.

But the efforts were in vain.

"Hold on!"

Harry pressed down on the broom and flew towards Hermione at high speed.

Just as Harry was about to get close to Hermione, the broom Hermione was riding finally fell apart completely.

The wooden stick, which served as the main body of the broom, flew slowly in the air for a short distance, and then, as if it suddenly remembered that there was such a thing as physics in the world, it began to fall down in Newton's ecstatic manner.

Harry, who was now very close to Hermione, saw that Hermione, who was riding on the wooden stick, had a calm and serious expression.

It was as if he was an old captain who was ready to sink with the ship.

Although it was his first time riding a broom, Harry did not hesitate to urge the broom to speed up and rush towards Hermione.

As a paladin, Harry had caught many people falling from great heights.

From a cat that slipped and fell, to a priest who was about to launch an attack from the beam, but was pushed down by the goblin without paying attention.

When it comes to catching people, Harry is already a veteran and has seen a lot.

Harry flew to the side and below Hermione, put his legs on the pedals and opened his arms, then accelerated and hugged Hermione from the side and behind.

It would have been a perfect rescue, if Hermione had dropped the damn stick on the way down.

The moment Harry caught it, both Hermione and Harry groaned.

Hermione, who was held in Harry's arms, turned her head and glared at Harry with murderous eyes, then reached out and hugged Harry to prevent herself from falling from the air again.

Harry, who caught Hermione, was trying hard to control the broom with his legs while enduring the pain.

Even though Hermione was sweet and soft in his arms, Harry had no time to pay attention to such trivial matters.

Harry's mind was now full of thoughts.

After this matter is over, I must make the saddle for the flying broom.

This crappy broom is harder to ride than a six-legged lizard from the Underdark!

Those six-legged lizards just eat the riders.

These brooms can neither be controlled by reins nor adjusted by the thighs. The only thing you can use now is the soles of your feet on the pedals.

Given the choice, Harry would rather quickly tame a six-legged lizard and ride it away from the drow attacks than ride a broom again.

Harry was sure that the wizard who had invented the flying broomstick as a means of transportation had harbored the deepest ill will towards men.

Damn it, not only do you not have saddles for your broomsticks, you don't even have a blanket?!

Isn't a flying carpet a standard feature of fairy tales? What if you even have reindeers and a sleigh?!

"Harry!"

When Harry finally landed on the ground in an awkward posture, what was waiting for him was not the cheers from his classmates for his thrilling rescue.

Instead, it was Professor McGonagall who looked so serious that she seemed to want to double Harry's detention.

045 I'm not interested in Quidditch

As Harry got off the broom, he looked at Professor McGonagall with a serious expression and felt a little panicked.

But after thinking about what he had just done, Harry immediately calmed down.

Professor McGonagall stared at Harry for a moment, as Hermione removed her hands and stepped off of him.

Professor McGonagall looked at Madam Hooch beside her.

"Sorry Rolanda, could you lend me Harry for a minute?"

"Of course, Professor McGonagall."

As soon as Madam Hooch nodded, Professor McGonagall grabbed Harry's arm and tried to take him away.

But this time, Harry didn't move at all.

Professor McGonagall was startled at first when she felt the solid muscles beneath Harry's robes, and then her eyes flashed with uncontrollable ecstasy.

"Harry, follow me!"

Following Professor McGonagall, whose tone was a little excited, Harry hurriedly walked into the castle, even having to jog to keep up with her.

The two climbed the steps in front of the door and up the marble staircase inside, and Professor McGonagall still said nothing.

She unlocked doors and strode through corridors, with Harry following in confusion.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom.

She pushed the door open and stuck her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could you please let Wood out for a moment?"

Wood? Harry wondered, could it be a wooden cane? What does it have to do with me?

Who knows, Wood turns out to be alone, a tall, sturdy fifth-year boy, who walks out of Flitwick's classroom with a bewildered look on his face.

"You two, follow me," said Professor McGonagall, and the three of them strode down the corridor together, Wood eyeing Harry curiously.

"Go in."

Professor McGonagall pointed to a classroom and asked them to go in. Only Peeves was inside, busy writing curse words on the blackboard.

"Get out, Peeves!" she yelled.

Peeves clattered the chalk into the dustbin and stormed out of the classroom swearing.

Professor Gray slammed the door shut and turned to face the two boys.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood… I found a Chaser for you."

The expression on Wood's face went from confusion to joy and then back to confusion.

"But Professor, what we lack is a seeker. The other positions are already filled."

"Let Arya be the Seeker. That girl is very agile and clever." Professor McGonagall said simply, "This child is a genius! I have never seen anything like it. Potter, is this your first time riding a broomstick?"

Harry, who hadn't figured out what was going on, nodded in confusion.

I was riding a broom just now, but now they are talking about ball.

Harry wondered if maybe they were trying to get him on the football team, like Dudley had.

Three months after Harry started training Daley, Daley joined the school's rugby team.

And in the last game before graduation, he won the title of "Bulldozer Daly".

Harry didn't mind playing rugby, although it was a little weaker, it was good to stretch his muscles.

"He started swooping in when Hermione's broom had problems, and the poor girl's broom just fell apart and Harry swooped in behind her and caught her."

"Neither of them had any scratches. Potter even used his feet to control the broom to land. Look at his arms. He is definitely a great candidate for a chaser."

Professor McGonagall said as she squeezed Harry's arm.