On this day, Hoffa woke up earlier than usual.
Flying was a human's dream. After becoming a wizard, Hoffa naturally had the ambition to travel through the clouds. Especially in 1938, when airplanes were not as common as they were in the future. If he could learn to ride a flying broomstick, not only would it be easier for him to go out, it would also be a life-saving trump card in the future. After all, the Muggle air forces in this era were not as accurate and terrifying as they were in the future, and wars were mainly fought on land.
In the cafeteria hall in the morning, a group of calm Ravenclaw students excitedly discussed Quidditch.
Breakfast at Hogwarts was very sumptuous. Fried eggs, bread, vegetable or fruit salad, sausage or bacon, coffee, tea, milk, butter, jam, and juice. There were also other types of porridge.
But Hoffa was focused on flying lessons and was afraid that he would vomit if he ate too much, so he ate very little. He only had a sausage and a bit of porridge.
Some of the students from sorcerer families bragged about their flying history.
William Carlson was Hoffa's roommate. He was telling his friends about his family's glorious flying history early in the morning. He also said that his father once rode a flying broomstick to avoid the pursuit and strafing of airplanes in World War I.
Taylor Smith was a Muggle descendant in their dormitory. While William was bragging at the side, Taylor was listening with great interest, his eyes full of envy. For the Muggles of this era, if they did not join the Royal Air Force, flying was basically a hopeless thing.
The students at Ravenclaw were not so bad. At Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, the group of students gathered in small groups and laughed from time to time.
The ones laughing were mostly boys. In this era, Quidditch was still a boy's game, and girls rarely participated.
After breakfast, the group quickly walked out of the hall. They came to a patch of grass near the school's Quidditch stadium.
It was a clear, windy day, and the grass slightly waved under their feet. Beyond the lawn was the forbidden forest. In the distance, dark trees swayed in the wind.
This class was with the first-year students of Slytherin. The Slytherin students were already there. A row of flying brooms was arranged Zizi on the ground. Tom Riddle was talking and laughing with a few classmates. When he saw Hoffa, he didn't say anything.
In fact, since the two of them came to school, the conflict seemed to have disappeared. They became two unrelated passers-by. There was neither a grudge against the orphanage, nor any sign of them knowing each other.
Hoffa knew about Liddell's ambition. He was not a childish child like Malfoy. It was impossible for him to spend his energy on pointless quarreling.
Not long after, their teacher arrived. Hoffa had already heard about it from his roommates during breakfast. Quidditch's teacher was called Pario Leo. He was the batter of the Irish team in the 1920 Quidditch World Cup. Their team's best result was to reach the semifinals of the World Cup. It was very impressive.
Pario was a tall man with long arms. His brown hair was curly, and he was in high spirits.
When he saw the new students, he whistled.
"What are you waiting for? Hurry up and line up according to height!"
The crowd moved noisily.
Seeing the group of eleven-year-old children pushing and shoving, it was chaotic.
Pario impatiently stepped in. He pulled out each child and put them in different positions.
Hoffa was originally standing with Miranda, but Pario pulled them apart because Hoffa was half a head taller than Miranda. He was pushed to the side of another person by Pario.
Yes, it was Aglaia again.
They were about the same height.
Aglaia saw Hoffa being pushed over and snorted coldly.
The warm sunlight and gentle breeze made Hoffa very comfortable, but now, standing next to Aglaia, he felt uncomfortable all over.
Seeing that the students were lined up according to height, Mr. Pario looked unusually satisfied.
He then whistled and said, "Reach out your right hand, put it above the broom handle, and then say, 'Get up!'"
"Get up!" Everyone shouted.
Hoffa also reached out his hand. "Get up!"
Nothing happened.
So he sighed more heavily.
"Get up!"
There was still no response.
He suddenly felt puzzled. What was going on?
He turned his head to look. Someone's broom quickly rose. For example, Tom Riddle, who was standing opposite Hoffa. As soon as he opened his mouth, the broom obediently fell into his palm.
His roommate, William, was not bragging. His broom quickly bounced up and into his palm.
Some of the children slowly dropped their brooms and rolled around on the ground, looking very reluctant.
For example, Miranda. Her broom seemed to be a bit hesitant. It came up a bit, then went down again. But it was still moving.
But only his broom, did not move.
Hoffa did not give up. He tried twice more, but it still did not work.
"Muggle." Next to him came a mocking voice.
Hoffa saw Aglaia on the right smiling proudly. She still had her arms crossed, not moving.
So Hoffa said to her for the first time in a week: "What's there to be proud of, yours did not move either."
"Is that so — —?" She dragged out her tone, as if she was enjoying this moment.
After that, Aglaia looked at him mockingly. One hand was on her chest, the other hand was on top of the flying broom. She did not say anything.
The flying broom whizzed into her hand. Hoffa could almost feel the broom's eagerness to be ridden by her.
Hoffa widened his eyes and looked at his broom again.
"Get up!"
A breeze blew through the tattered branches. It did not move. Like a dead salted fish.
Hoffa's face darkened. He raised his hand.
Pario noticed him: "What's wrong, child?"
Hoffa: "Teacher, my broom is broken."
Everyone looked over. Pario's eyes widened. He stretched out his hand in the distance. "Get up."
Hoffa's broom left his body like lightning and went to Pario's hand.
Pario looked at it and said unhappily: "What are you talking about? This broom is in good condition. After that, he threw the broom back to Hoffa.
Hoffa continued to stretch out his hand: "Get up."
It died again.
"Hahahahaha ~"
Aglaia laughed happily. Her sweet appearance made Hoffa grit his teeth. She said:
"Flying Muggles, the landlubbers of wizards, are people who have no talent for flying. Such people are rare in history, but you are undoubtedly one of them. In England and even all of Europe, flying is an ancient and elegant art. Quidditch is a senior social sport. It represents the outstanding people who have the talent to rule, and you … "
"Shut up! No one will think you're mute if you don't talk. "
Hoffa's face was livid. He stopped Aglaia directly. This time, he did not want to maintain a superficial peace with Aglaia anymore. His disgust for this girl had reached its peak.
He took out his magic wand and pointed at the broom on the ground.
"Ugadim Leviosa!"
Under the effect of the Levitation Spell, Hoffa's broom flew up like a mangy dog. It was trembling in pain in Hoffa's hand.
Hoffa sensed the broom's reluctance, but he held on to it tightly.
Then, something that Huo Fa didn't expect happened.
Aglaia raised her hand.
That's right. She raised her right hand and said loudly: "Teacher Pario, Hoffa cheated. He cast a spell on the broom."
The noisy field quieted down.
Everyone turned their heads and looked at Aglaia and Hoffa.
Hoffa was shocked. There was actually such an annoying person in the world. Snitching? No matter which world you were in, this kind of thing would be hated to the core. The person next to him had actually done it so openly.
Did the earth revolve around you? Why was she assigned to Ravenclaw?
Pario walked up to Hoffa unhappily: "Did you really cast a spell on the broom?"
"That's right." Hoffa sighed.
"What spell?"
"The Levitation Spell."
Hoffa said.
Pario took a deep breath and exhaled.
"In the Quidditch Tournament, casting a spell on a broom is a major foul. Did you know that? "
"I didn't know," Hoffa said expressionlessly.
"Since it's your first offense, I won't deduct your points. But you don't have to attend this class. Go watch from the side. "Pario said regretfully.
Hoffa threw the broom away, put away his wand and strode to the side. He crossed his arms and didn't say anything. He was so angry that he couldn't say anything.
Hoffa's unpredictable life was once again beyond his expectations. He wasn't Harry Potter. He didn't have the talent to fly. He didn't have the talent of Quidditch either. He didn't even know the rules of Quidditch.
On the field, Pario whistled. She demonstrated how to ride a broom with the students.
The students jumped up from the ground. Some rode on the broom in a crooked manner. Some people were flying here and there at high speed. Aglaia was the best at flying. She didn't even need to hold the handle of the broom. She crossed her arms in front of her chest as if she could make the broom go wherever she wanted with just her mind.
The sky was filled with white clouds. Hoffa leaned against a tall tower with a green foxtail in his mouth. He looked at the people flying around above him and felt that he didn't fit in with this land for the first time.
Aglaia had a point. In the wizarding world, Quidditch was a game that only those with talent could play. Just like the sailing competitions in the Ivy League in his previous life, if you weren't from the upper class, you wouldn't be invited to play.
Hoffa asked himself why the broom ignored him. It was because he didn't want to participate in Quidditch. He just wanted to fly.
The rules of Quidditch were too stupid for him.
Especially when the Golden Snitch was caught, the rules of the competition were changed. It was completely unreasonable. It was just individual heroism.
Compared to that, he preferred the Muggle world's football. Every person was important.
At this moment, he thought of a lot of things. He thought of a novel in his previous life where Hermione had a big fight with the divination teacher, Trelawney. Trelawney thought that Hermione didn't have the talent for divination and rejected her efforts. But the truth was that one couldn't be both emotional and rational. Hermione would never be able to become a diviner, and Hoffa wouldn't be able to become a master in Quidditch.
After all, there were only a few people with talent in this world, especially when it came to sports.
In his previous life, he wasn't embarrassed when it came to sports. He could only watch other people play. He didn't expect that he would still be like this in the wizarding world.
If he had a little talent in Polymorph, that would be enough. There was no need to be greedy. If he wanted to fly, there were many ways to do it. He didn't have to stick to one tree. The most important thing for him to do now was to honestly study and develop.
Only those who survived the war in the future would have the right to pursue their own happiness. It was meaningless to fight for a moment's glory and become the leader of a group of 11-year-old students.
After understanding this point, Hoffa calmed down. He spat out the green foxtail and calmly left the field with his hands behind his back.
In the sky, Aglaia kept flying, but her eyes were always locked on Hoffa, who was sitting in the corner.
The feeling of attacking Hoffa made her feel good. Ever since she met this person, she had been defeated again and again. Especially when she guessed his identity on the train, it made her feel like she had lost all her face.
Today, she finally got back her face.
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