"Up!" Everyone on the lawn shouted in unison.
Harry's broomstick immediately jumped into his hand, and so did Ron's. Even Hermione's broom wobbled a few feet into the air before she grabbed it just before it fell.
The group exchanged surprised glances, and Harry whispered, "Ivy's method works! Determination and courage are the key!"
Watching the others still yelling "Up," they felt a sense of pride.
Next, Professor Hooch demonstrated how to mount the broomstick properly without sliding off the top. She walked around the group, correcting their hand grips.
"What's this?" Harry heard Professor Hooch exclaim and turned around to see her standing next to Ivy, staring at his broomstick in awe. "Moon Dream! A specially custom-made one! Its creator only took a few private orders over a century ago. This is a true antique! But I can tell this is not Hogwarts' standard broomstick—what's going on, Mr. Doom?"
"It's my broomstick," Ivy replied. "The one on the ground has malfunctioned."
"Malfunctioned? But it looks in better condition than the others..." Professor Hooch placed her hand on the broom and tried a few times before reluctantly admitting that the broom that appeared fine was indeed no longer functional.
"Alright, Mr. Doom, I'll allow you to use the Moon Dream for the lesson, and I won't deduct points from Slytherin," Professor Hooch said, her eyes not leaving the broom in Ivy's hands. "But that doesn't mean you can use it anywhere else without the headmaster's permission. Understood?"
"As you wish, Professor Hooch," Ivy nodded.
As Professor Hooch moved on to the next student, she quickly and discreetly glanced at Ivy's Moon Dream again.
"Alright, when I whistle, you all jump, push your legs, and get off the ground. Give it a good push." Professor Hooch continued, "Hold onto your broom tightly, rise a few feet, then lean slightly forward and fall back to the ground. Listen for my whistle—three—two—"
In an utterly predictable manner, Neville Longbottom, the infamous young Gryffindor, shot into the air with a 'whoosh' like a cork popping out of a bottle of sparkling wine.
"Come back, child!" Professor Hooch shouted, but Neville clearly couldn't manage it. Amidst everyone's exclamations, Neville soared higher until the fear of leaving the ground drained the courage to hold onto his broom, and he fell.
"Slow down and stop." Ivy moved his fingers and pronounced the spell.
Neville's rapid descent suddenly halted in mid-air, and he gently floated down to the ground.
Professor Hooch, her face pale, bent down to check on Neville's condition.
"He's unconscious," she sighed in relief. "I'll take him to the hospital wing."
Though Neville seemed to have no serious injuries, who knew if keeping him here would cause more trouble? At least, until Professor Hooch was prepared for the worst, she didn't want to see Neville's face at the flying lesson again.
She used a levitation spell to move Neville along with her and turned to the others. "No one move! Put your brooms back where they belong. If you don't, before you even get a chance to say 'Quidditch,' you'll be kicked out of Hogwarts. And you, Mr. Doom. Thank you for your excellent slowing charm, Slytherin will get five points."
As soon as they left, the first-year students started to stir.
The Gryffindors loudly praised Ivy's spell, eager to get a closer look at the antique broom he was holding. Meanwhile, the Slytherins remained silent, glaring at the Gryffindors standing near Ivy.
"Look!" Malfoy suddenly shouted, grabbing something from the grass. "It's that fool Longbottom's grandmother's memory ball."
He raised the glass orb, which gleamed under the sunlight.
"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry whispered. Everyone fell silent, watching the situation unfold.
Malfoy quickly glanced at Ivy, and seeing no intention of interference, he grinned at Harry. "Come get it, then! Let's see your bravery, Potter!"
Harry glared at Malfoy, and Malfoy quickly jumped onto his broomstick and took off.
"Come on, Potter!" Malfoy called, almost level with the treetops. "Don't be a coward!"
Harry grabbed his broom.
"Don't!" Hermione shouted. "Professor Hooch told us not to move—you'll get us all in trouble."
But Harry didn't listen. His anger flared, and the adrenaline coursed through his veins. He mounted the broom, kicked off the ground, and soared into the air. His natural talent seemed to kick in, as if he were born to ride a broomstick.
He lifted the broom higher, rising even further into the air. He heard girls screaming below and Ron shouting in admiration.
Harry turned his broom toward Malfoy, who seemed surprised that Harry was flying so well, and took a step back.
"Give it here, Malfoy!" Harry called. "Or I'll knock you off your broom!"
"Think you can?" Malfoy's mockery was interrupted as Harry sped straight toward him.
Malfoy quickly shut up and swiftly dodged to the side. Harry flew past him, then turned mid-air.
"You don't have Crabbe and Goyle to protect you, Malfoy," Harry shouted.
Malfoy glanced down, calculating the distance to the ground, and with a twisted smile, said, "Really? Potter?"
Two more Slytherin students took off, though not Crabbe and Goyle—rather, it was Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.
Both came from pure-blood families and had some flying experience.
"Three on one, let's see who has the upper hand?" Malfoy and his two companions surrounded Harry, laughing loudly.
The students on the ground gasped, and several Gryffindors were eager to join in.
Hermione hurried to Ivy's side and shouted, "Stop them, Ivy! I know you can!"
"Don't worry." Ivy watched the situation in the air with interest. "No one will get hurt."
"But they might get expelled!" Hermione insisted.
Ivy simply glanced at her but didn't respond.
The three Slytherins in the air began hurling insults at Harry.
"Let's see what the famous Potter can do?" Blaise Zabini spat, clearly nervous. "Afraid to even move?"
"Come on, Potter," Malfoy shouted, emboldened by his companions. "Show them what you've got!"
Harry hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit nervous as the two Slytherins joined Malfoy in the air.
But when he saw Blaise's trembling hands and Theodore's pale face, Harry suddenly laughed. "You don't have the guts."
Harry gently adjusted his broom, feigning a charge toward Theodore Nott. Nott yelped and quickly pulled far away.
Once he realized Harry was just faking it, Nott breathed a sigh of relief, but still shouted at Malfoy, "My broom's malfunctioning! It's these old brooms! I have to land."
Before Malfoy could respond, Nott quickly made a smooth landing.
Harry soon realized that, unlike him, they couldn't stay up in the air at will.
"Let's see who'll help you now, Malfoy!" Harry dove toward Malfoy, speeding like an arrow.
Malfoy, obviously startled, still made the right decision.
"Isn't this what you want?" He tossed the memory ball in the direction of the castle. "Go get it!"
Seeing Malfoy's move, Harry quickly turned his broom and flew toward the memory ball.
In that brief moment, Malfoy and Zabini both landed safely.
The wind whistled in Harry's ears, mixing with the cheers from the crowd below. He reached out and caught the glass ball just a foot from the ground. He swiftly straightened his broomstick and landed gently on the grass, clutching the memory ball tightly in his palm.