Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Damn It, Get Up There and Wreck Him!

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Ron took the scolding. Sheepishly shut his mouth.

Harry, who'd wanted to say something, wisely kept quiet too.

Since the three had met, Hermione had always displayed indifference. Emotions flat as a lake. This was the first time she'd shown this kind of embarrassed fury.

Fortunately, Madam Hooch didn't notice the little episode. Instead shouted loudly: "When I blow the whistle, kick off hard from the ground. Keep your broom steady. Once airborne, circle a few times first, then lean forward slightly and fly back down…"

Before finishing, Madam Hooch's eyes widened.

Because she saw Neville Longbottom—somehow already suspended several yards off the ground—swaying in midair.

"Mr. Longbottom, what are you doing! Come down at once!"

Neville felt himself rising higher. Face full of panic. Voice trembling as he shouted: "Down! Down!"

Unfortunately, the broom didn't obey his commands. Instead stubbornly flew even higher. In just those few sentences, it had already reached dozens of meters up.

Amid Neville's terrified cries, the broom acted like an unleashed wild dog. Flew chaotically through the sky.

As if alive, completely ignoring Neville on top. Repeatedly thud-thud slammed into the castle's outer walls. Knocked Neville dizzy. Stars in his eyes.

Finally, after a bout of wild flying, Neville's entire body caught on a frame high on the castle wall.

Riiip—his robes couldn't bear his weight any longer. Tore open directly. Neville plummeted from several stories up.

Instantly, cries of alarm erupted below.

Timid wizards had already turned their heads away. Couldn't bear to watch what came next.

From this height, even with wizards' physiques differing from Muggles, he'd be seriously injured.

This basically counts as a teaching accident, right… Hermione felt speechless. If not for wizards' heaven-defying healing methods…

Even with just a breath left they could be saved back. Otherwise, just getting a flying license would kill who-knows-how-many people annually.

Amid screams, Neville rapidly fell toward the ground. Just as everyone thought they'd witness a tragedy, a clear voice rang out from behind.

"Arresto Momentum!"

As the spell took effect, Neville's speed plummeted. His entire body seemed buffered by some powerful force. Forcibly halted his falling momentum. Hovered less than half a meter from the ground.

Everyone froze for two seconds. Then realized what happened. All turned around together.

Hermione stood with her wand raised. Pointed forward.

The accident was resolved just like that.

Madam Hooch finally snapped back. Quietly sighed in relief. Her gaze toward Hermione filled with gratitude.

Though similar incidents often occurred in flying lessons—unavoidable—she still hadn't watched these little ones carefully enough. Even if not blamed, she'd feel terrible about it.

But… this little one's reaction was so fast.

And the Slowing Charm—was that magic first-years could even learn?

Judging by that display, even many upper-year students preparing for exams probably couldn't use it as skillfully.

But thinking of her identity, Madam Hooch wasn't too surprised.

She'd heard from other professors: Gryffindor had a new student this year named Hermione Granger. Genius level simply beyond imagination.

Who'd have thought a Muggle-born wizard could possess such talent.

Hermione released the spell. Withdrew her wand.

Neville's feet touched ground. Crack.

Twisted ankle. Fractured on the spot.

Hermione's mouth twitched. Felt like she'd worked for nothing.

You're genuinely dumb. Really.

Madam Hooch hurried forward to check. Shook her head. "Mr. Longbottom, you really must thank Miss Granger. Otherwise it wouldn't be as simple as a fracture."

Then looked at the group: "Stay where you are. I'm taking Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing first… If I see anyone fly during this time, they'll be expelled before they can see Quidditch!"

After leaving that warning, Madam Hooch departed with the limping Neville.

Once the two disappeared from view, Gryffindor students all swarmed over. Surrounded Hermione. Talked over each other: "Hermione, Hermione, what was that magic just now!"

"So cool!"

"Where'd you learn it? Can you teach us!"

"Hermione, you're amazing!"

Hermione was overwhelmed by the little kids' enthusiasm. Couldn't take it. Quickly said: "All from the library. Go find it yourselves."

Said no more. Stepped back half a pace. Positioned Harry and Ron as shields in front.

The library?

Only then did everyone remember: the aloof girl before them also had the nickname "The Library Witch."

Truly lived up to her reputation.

Compared to Gryffindor's enthusiasm, Slytherin's side was much colder. Most wore displeased expressions.

Even the scattered few who seemed interested—wanting to come ask Hermione something—seeing the surrounding atmosphere, hesitated and dismissed the thought.

Hermione saw it all. Understood.

If it were someone else, Slytherin might not react this way. But a Muggle-born wizard with such ability naturally displeased these pure-blood types.

Even their common room password was "pure-blood." That said it all.

But they weren't willing to provoke her without cause.

These past days, it wasn't like no one had come looking for trouble. Result: Hermione had sanctioned them all with her ultimate technique—telling the teacher.

Most Hogwarts professors were good people. No prejudice against Muggle-borns. Plus their good-student filter for Hermione…

Anyone she reported not only lost their house tons of points but received severe punishment. Made them cry uncle.

After a few times, no one dared cause trouble without reason.

In the original story, Harry and others never properly utilized this weapon. Always wanted to solve things privately. Time-consuming, laborious, and stirred up a mess.

Common ailment of kids. Saving face.

While everyone surrounded Hermione, Draco Malfoy's sharp eyes spotted something on the ground. Picked it up.

"Ha! This is Longbottom's Remembrall. If that guy squeezed this ball, maybe he'd remember to land on his rear."

Malfoy held up the transparent sphere, showing off.

Everyone's attention was drawn over. A few students even erupted in mocking laughter.

They couldn't provoke the tough nut Hermione. But Neville was Gryffindor's most weak and foolish-looking. Naturally became the fixed bullying target for some Slytherins—especially Malfoy's group.

Righteousness rose in Harry's heart. Stepped forward. Said stiffly: "Give me the ball, Malfoy."

Seeing it was Harry, Malfoy snorted coldly: "No. I'm going to hide the ball. Let Longbottom search properly."

Saying this, he mounted his broomstick. Took off directly.

Harry gripped his broom handle. Eyes burning with anger. Looked up glaring at Malfoy. But made no further move.

Hermione waited forever without seeing him act. Really couldn't stand it. Directly jabbed his lower back.

"What are you waiting for? You gonna take that? Damn it, get up there and wreck him!"

Harry: ??

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