Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God Chapter 21

Humans have an innate desire to fly.

From the invention of kites, rockets, airplanes, and paragliders by people in the Muggle world, to the unique broomsticks, flying carpets, flying swords, and flying clouds in the magical world, human beings have tried their best to fly.

However, for the upcoming flying lessons, apart from those who are particularly longing for Harry and Ron, there are some people who are not interested at all.

Chief among them was Neville. He had never ridden a broom in his life, just because his grandmother thought he would be safer if he stepped on the ground honestly.

In addition, a young wizard with Muggle origin like Hermione is as nervous as Neville. After all, flying is not something you can learn by reading a book.

At breakfast on Thursday morning, she kept talking to Clark about some flying instructions she had seen from a library book called "The Magic of Quidditch", and Neville sat in the seat. By the side, listening intently to every word she said, eagerly hoping to hear something useful so that he could sit firmly on his broom later.

Clark could only impatiently poking at the fried egg with a fork to hide his nervousness.

Yes, in fact, he didn't ride a broom very often. As a traveler, he couldn't even ride a bicycle in his previous life. How can you expect him to ride on a wooden stick? And it's flying so high!

Just when he secretly decided to learn flying spells quickly, a group of postmen disturbed his thoughts again.

"Maybe I can learn an Animagus, and it would be good to become a bird."

Clark looked at the owls flying randomly over the auditorium, and his thoughts spread in an instant.

As an orphan whose parents died, naturally no one sent him anything. Needless to say, Malfoy had already noticed this, so he was always at the Slytherin table, triumphantly unpacking the candy that was brought home.

At this moment, an owl landed in front of Neville, clutching a small package his grandma had sent him in its paws.

Neville excitedly opened it and showed everyone a glass ball the size of a marble, which seemed to be filled with white smoke.

"It's a memory ball!" he explained, "grandma knows I'm always out of memory—it'll tell you if there's something you forgot to do. Look, you hold it tight, like this, if it Turned red--oh..."

He suddenly elongated his face, because the memory ball suddenly glowed red, "...you just forgot something..."

Neville was desperately trying to remember what he had forgotten, just at this moment, Draco Malfoy passed the Gryffindor table and slammed the memory ball out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, hoping for some reason to fight Malfoy, but this time Neville's reaction was very different.

"Give it back to me!"

Neville roared loudly, with a trill in his voice, but he still stood up bravely and faced Malfoy.

Malfoy was also taken aback by his reaction. The guy who had a weak personality and who could be kneaded by others suddenly became tough on him, which made him feel particularly embarrassed.

"I won't give it to you, what can you do? Hit me?"

When he said in his mouth, his eyes were ignorant to Clark who was sitting. After seeing that the other party didn't react, he became more courageous.

But he obviously didn't know how terrifying it would be for an honest man to be pushed. Neville's eyes widened, and he was about to bury his head in the collision. At this time, Professor McGonagall was keenly aware of the trouble and appeared first.

"what happened?"

"Malfoy stole my memory ball, Professor."

"Give it back to him!"

Malfoy sullenly threw the memory ball back on the table.

"Wait and see," he said and hurried away, followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

At this moment, Clark stood up, patted Neville on the shoulder, and said softly, "Good job", which made him instantly happy when he was nervous.

"By the way, you may have forgotten to wear a robe." Clark waved his hand and left.

At three-thirty in the afternoon, Clark, Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindor students hurried down the steps to the grounds in front of the door for their first flying lesson.

It's a sunny, breezy day, perfect for outdoor activities and, of course, better for lying down.

When they walked down the sloping grass and walked towards a flat lawn on the opposite side of the field, the grass waved slightly under their feet. There was a forbidden forest on the other side of the lawn, and the dark trees in the distance were swaying in the wind.

Some of the Slytherin students were already there, and twenty broomsticks lay neatly on the ground. Clark once heard Fred and George complain about the school broomsticks at home. Some brooms shudder when you fly too high~www.mtlnovel.com~ And others, always leaning slightly left.

Here comes their teacher, Ms. Hooch. This shrewd and capable lady has short gray hair and two yellow eyes, sharp and energetic, like the eyes of an eagle.

When she saw the little wizard who had all arrived, she nodded with satisfaction.

"Okay, what are you all waiting for?" she snapped. "Everyone stands next to a broomstick. Hurry, hurry, hurry up."

Clark lowered his head and glanced at his broom. Fortunately, he wisely picked one that was in good condition, at least the branches were trimmed neatly.

"Put your right hand over the broom handle," shouted Madam Hooch from the front, "and say: 'Get up!'"

"Get up!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hands immediately, but there were only a few such obedient brooms, and Clark's was one of them.

For example, Hermione's broom just rolled on the ground, while Neville's broom didn't move at all.

Then, Ms. Hooch showed them how to get on a broom without slipping off her head. She walked up and down the line, correcting their grip.

When Clark rode on the broom, there was naturally a soft force supporting his butt, which was a cushion spell that every broom must wear.

So, Clark feels that riding a broom is not much different from riding a bicycle, and it won't be as painful as Muggles imagine.

It's just that for him who has a bad sense of balance, riding this thing to the sky, he will always sway, just like riding a bicycle twisting and turning, and sometimes he can't even tell the difference between up and down, flying and flying. Just head down, feet up, upside down.

Chapter end