Wayne didn't try anything flashy, obediently following Madam Hooch's instructions as he rose into the air.
He valued his life too much—Hogwarts' broomsticks were all relics from thirty or forty years ago. Who knew if they'd fall apart mid-flight?
Flying low was safer; if anything went wrong, he'd have time to react. Contrary to his expectations, riding the broom wasn't the painful, wind-battering experience he'd imagined. Instead, it felt like sitting on an invisible, cushioned seat.
Not nearly as uncomfortable as it looked.
Due to their age, these brooms weren't particularly fast, but soaring through the sky and changing direction freely with just a thought was still exhilarating.
Wayne flew for a while without incident, and Madam Hooch relaxed, moving on to the next student.
Gradually, more young wizards took to the air, though most didn't fly very high, just barely off the ground.
Nothing like the grand feats they'd boasted about before.
Wayne's two roommates, who had never touched a flying broomstick before, were complete novices. They clamped their brooms between their legs and ran back and forth on the ground, pretending to fly.
Lisa Turpin of Ravenclaw slipped off her broom, and a few more of its already sparse tail twigs were scraped loose.
Wayne grew increasingly adept at flying, gradually ascending higher and higher. From his lofty vantage point, he spotted a girl smiling up at him. He descended to her level, hovering before her. "Cho, what are you doing here?"
The girl was none other than Cho Chang of Ravenclaw. Beside her stood another girl who glanced curiously between Cho and Wayne, her expression turning mischievous.
"No classes this afternoon, so Marietta and I came for a stroll," Cho replied with a bright smile, her dimples showing.
"Is this your first Flying Class? You seem quite talented—maybe you'll even make the Quidditch team one day."
"Oh, I nearly forgot to introduce you." She gestured to the girl beside her. "This is Marietta Edgecombe, my best friend."
Wayne nodded. "Hello, I'm Wayne Lawrence, first-year Hufflepuff."
The name rang a bell. In the original story, it was Marietta who betrayed Harry and Dumbledore's Army by snitching to Umbridge, leading to Dumbledore's eventual expulsion.
From Harry's perspective—or the reader's—Marietta's actions were undeniably treacherous, branding her a complete turncoat. But put yourself in her shoes: her parents worked at the Ministry of Magic, and Umbridge used that as leverage. How could an underage girl withstand such pressure?
It just went to show how perspectives shape one's judgment. Wayne felt no particular dislike for her.
"I know you—the little prodigy of the first year," Marietta said with a grin. "Professor Flitwick insists the Sorting Hat must've malfunctioned. A clever wizard like you belongs in Ravenclaw."
Wayne sighed. 'By Professor Flitwick's logic, Percy Weasley, Cedric, and even Granger should all be in Ravenclaw. The other professors would have his head for that.'
All three laughed.
Then he turned back to Cho. "Quidditch trials must've started by now, right? How'd it go? Did you make it?"
At the mention of Quidditch, Cho perked up immediately. "I did! I'm Ravenclaw's new Seeker—and a starter!"
"Congratulations. Go easy on Hufflepuff when we face you, alright?"
Cho stifled a laugh. "Not a chance. I'll catch that Golden Snitch for sure."
They chatted a while longer, but since class was still in session, Wayne couldn't afford to slack off so blatantly and soon took his leave.
"He's gone, you know. No use staring," Marietta teased as Cho's gaze lingered on the boy's retreating figure.
"Wow, already snagging the handsomest first-year? Spill—how'd you two meet?"
Cho shot her friend an exasperated look. Must she phrase it like that? Yet her mind drifted back to their first encounter—the sight of Wayne performing wandless magic.
"Wayne, who was that? She's gorgeous," Toby and Norman piped up, abandoning their brooms to crowd around. Nearby, several girls pricked up their ears, eager for gossip.
"None of your business. Get back to training—you two look like a pair of grounded chickens."
Their shoulders slumped.
They seemed utterly devoid of flying talent, having even sneaked their brooms back after Madam Hooch's repeated attempts ended in resigned head-shakes, leaving them to their own devices. Wayne paid no attention to his two clownish roommates and continued his leisurely broomstick ride.
...
"What? Malfoy challenged you to a duel?"
In the Gryffindor common room, Ron stared at Harry in astonishment.
"Keep your voice down." Harry quickly glanced around, relieved when he saw no one had noticed them.
"What exactly does a wizard's duel look like?" Harry asked nervously. "He told me to bring a second – what's that about?"
"A second," Ron said, popping a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean into his mouth before grimacing.
'Damn, it was carrot-flavoured.'
"If either you or Malfoy goes down, the second steps in. It continues until one side is completely incapacitated."
"I bet Malfoy's second will be either Crabbe or Goyle."
Harry felt a chill and quickly asked, "Ron, will you be my second?"
"Of course! I've been wanting to teach Malfoy a lesson," Ron said, growing excited.
"Neither of us knows much magic yet – at best, we'll make each other's noses bleed. In the end, we'll have to rely on fists."
"Then it's settled."
After agreeing on their strategy, they decided that since Ron was stronger, Harry would pin Malfoy down while Ron did the punching.
Crabbe or Goyle could wait—this was a trick Harry had learned from Dudley: in a fight, you pin one opponent down and beat them mercilessly.
"When's the duel?" Ron finally asked.
"Next Friday, in the Trophy Room on the second floor."
Both had detentions scheduled for the coming days, so the timing had to be pushed back. Harry thought this was just as well—it gave him a week to learn a few spells.
"So cool – it's at night!"
Ron rubbed his hands eagerly. Not only would he get to punch Malfoy, but he'd also get to roam the castle after hours.
He'd been dreaming about this for ages.
Unnoticed by either boy, Hermione, who had been bent over her homework nearby, overheard the entire conversation. She pursed her lips tightly.