On this day, Hoffa got up almost earlier than ever.

Flying is a human dream. Having become a wizard, Hoffa certainly had an ambition to travel through the clouds. Especially in 1938, when airplanes were not as popular as in later generations, if you can learn to ride a broomstick, not only will it be much easier to go out, but there will also be one more life-saving hole card in the future, after all, the Muggle Air Force in this era is not as terrifying and accurate as later generations, and the war is mainly based on land warfare.

In the morning dining hall of the restaurant, a group of calm Ravenclaws discussed Quidditch anecdotes with rare excitement.

Breakfast at Hogwarts was hearty. Fried eggs, bread, vegetable or fruit salad, sausage or bacon coffee, tea, milk, butter, jam and juice. There are also other cereal porridges.

But Hoffa was so bent on flying lessons that he was afraid that he would vomit too quickly if he ate too much, so he ate very little, so he ate a sausage and a little cereal porridge.

Some students of wizarding families boast about their own history of flying.

William Carlson, another of Hofa's roommates, spent his early morning talking to his friends about his family's glorious flying history, and that his father had ridden a broomstick to evade the pursuit and strafing of planes during World War I.

Tyler Smith was a Muggle descendant in their dormitory, and William boasted about it while Tyler listened with relish, his eyes full of envy. For Muggles in this era, flying was basically a hopeless thing for a lifetime if they didn't become the Royal Air Force.

The Ravenclaw students were fine, and at the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, the group of students gathered together in small groups, laughing from time to time.

Boys were the ones who laughed, and Quidditch was still a boys' game in this era, and girls rarely participated in it.

After breakfast, a group of people walked briskly out of the auditorium. Come to a meadow near the school's Quidditch arena.

It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass was slightly waving at their feet. On the other side of the lawn is the Forbidden Forest, and in the distance, the black trees sway in the wind.

The class was with the Slytherin first-year students, who were already there, with rows of broomsticks neatly laid out on the ground. Tom Riddle was chatting and laughing with a few of his classmates, and when he caught a glimpse of Hoffa, he didn't say anything.

In fact, since the two of them came to school, the conflict seems to have disappeared. became two unrelated passers-by. There was neither an orphanage grudge nor a sign of recognition.

Hoffa knew Riddle's super ambitions, and he wasn't a childish kid like Malfoy. It's impossible to spend energy on needless fault-finding.

Soon after, their teacher arrived. Hoffa had already heard from his roommate at breakfast. Quidditch's teacher, Pario Leo, was a batsman for Ireland at the 1920 Quidditch World Cup, and their best result that year reached the semi-finals of the World Cup, which was quite remarkable.

Pario was a tall, long-armed man with curly brown hair and a radiant look.

When he saw the new students, he whistled.

"What are you waiting for, hurry up and line up according to the height!"

The crowd stirred up.

Look at this group of 11-year-olds pushing and shoving, squeezing around.

Pario intervened impatiently. Pull out the individual children and put them in different positions.

Hoffa was supposed to be standing with Miranda, but Pario pulled them away because Hoffa was half a head taller than Miranda. He is pushed by Pario to the other person's side.

That's right, Aglaia again.

They were of similar height.

Seeing that Hoffa was being pushed, Aglaia snorted coldly.

The warm sunlight and gentle breeze had made Hoffa comfortable, but now, standing beside Aglaia, he felt uncomfortable.

Seeing that the students were all in a series of equal differences according to their heights, Mr. Pallio seemed extremely satisfied.

He whistled and said, "Stretch out your right hand, put it over the broomstick, and say, 'Get up!'"

"Get up!" everyone shouted.

Hoffa also stretched out his hand, "Get up!"

Nothing happened.

So he sighed heavily.

"Get up!"

Still nothing happens.

He suddenly felt puzzled, what was going on?

He turned his head to look, and someone's broom was quickly up. For example, Tom Riddle, who was standing across from Hoffa. As soon as he opened his mouth, the broom obediently entered his palm.

His roommate William didn't brag either, and his broom quickly bounced into his palm.

Some of the children's brooms slowly fell and rolled around on the ground, looking very reluctant.

Miranda, for example, seems to be a little hesitant with her broom, going up a little and going down a little later. But it's moving.

But his broom alone remained motionless.

Hoffa didn't give up, and tried twice more, but it still didn't work.

"Muggles. There was a happy sneer from the side.

Hoffa saw Aglaia on her right smiling triumphantly, still holding her arms and not moving.

So Hoffa said to her the only thing he had said for a week: "Whatever you are proud of, yours has not moved." ”

"Is it -----------?" she elongated her voice, as if enjoying the moment.

After saying that, Aglaia looked at him sarcastically, holding one hand on his chest and the other on top of the broomstick. Not a word was spoken.

The broomstick swooped into her hand, and Hoffa could feel the broomstick's eagerness to be ridden by her.

Hoffa's eyes widened, and he looked at his broom again.

"Get up!"

The breeze blew through the tattered branches, and it remained motionless. Like a dead salted fish.

Hoffa's face darkened, and he raised his hand.

Pario noticed him: "What's the matter, kid?"

Hoffa: "Teacher, my broom is broken. ”

Everyone around him looked over, and Pario's eyes widened, and he stretched out his hand in the distance. "Get up. ”

Hoffa's broom detached from his body with lightning and went to Palio's hands.

When Pario looked at it, he said unhappily, "What are you talking about, this broom is in great shape." With that, he threw the broom back to Hoffa.

Hoffa continued to stretch out his hand: "Get up." ”

It's dead again.

"Hahahahahaha~"

Aglaia laughed happily, and that sweet look tickled Hoffa's hateful teeth. She said:

"Flying Muggles, landlubbers among wizards, are people who don't have any talent for flying. This kind of person is rare in history, but you are undoubtedly one of them. In England and throughout Europe, flying is an ancient and elegant art, and Quidditch is a veteran social sport. It represents the outstanding people in the crowd who have the talent to rule, and you ......"

"Shut up! you don't speak, no one treats you as a mute. ”

Hofa's face turned pale, and he directly stopped Aglaia, this time, he no longer wanted to maintain a semblance of peace with Aglaia. His dislike for the girl reached the extreme.

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the broom on the ground.

"Yuga Dim Leviosa!"

Under the effect of the levitation charm, Hoffa's broom flew like a leper dog, and was held in Hoffa's hand with pain and almost trembling.

Hoffa sensed the broom's reluctance, but he held on to it.

Then, something unexpected happened to Hoffa.

Aglaia on the side raised her hand.

That's right, she raised her right hand high and said loudly, "Teacher Pario, Hoffa cheated, he cast a spell on the broom." ”

The noisy meadow fell silent.

Everyone turned their heads to look at Aglaia and Hoffa.

Hoffa was shocked that there was such a hated person in the world, making a small report? This kind of thing is hated by people in any world. The person next to him actually did it so openly.

If you don't get attention and worship, you have to respond to others, does the earth revolve around you, why is she assigned to Ravenclaw?

Pario walked up to Hoffa in displeasure, "Did you really cast a spell on the broom?"

"That's right. Hoffa sighed.

"What spell?"

"Levitation Charm. ”

Hoffa said.

Pario took a deep breath and then exhaled.

"In Quidditch, it's a major foul to cast a spell on a broom. You know what?"

"I don't know," Hoffa said with a blank face.

"I won't deduct your points for your first offense. But you don't have to take this class, just go and watch it. Pario said regretfully.

Hoffa tossed his broom, put away his wand and strode aside. Holding his arms and not speaking. He was so angry that he couldn't speak.

Once again, the changeable life surprises Hoffa, he is not Harry Potter, he has no talent for flying. He didn't have a talent for Quidditch, and he didn't even know the rules of Quidditch.

On the grass, Pario whistled. Demonstrate to the students how to ride a broomstick.

Students rose to the ground, and some rode crookedly on broomsticks. Someone flew around fast and fast. Aglaia was the best flyer in the crowd, she didn't even use her hands to help the handle of the broomstick, she folded her arms around her chest, as if she could make the broom go wherever she wanted with just her thoughts.

The sky in the distance is full of white clouds. With his back against a tower, a dog's tail in his mouth, Hoffa looked at the crowd flying overhead, and for the first time felt out of place with the land.

Aglaia has a point, in the wizarding world, Quidditch is indeed a game that can only be played by talent. Just like those sailing competitions at the Ivy League universities in the United States in the previous life, they are not in the upper circles, and they may not take you to play.

Ask yourself, Hoffa knew why the broomstick was ignoring him, because he didn't want to play Quidditch, he just wanted to fly.

Quidditch's rules were stupid for him.

In particular, catching the Golden Snitch will directly rewrite the rules of the game. There is no reason at all, complete personal heroism.

In contrast, he prefers Muggle world football. Everyone matters.

At this moment, he thought of a lot of things, thinking of the novel in his previous life, Hermione had a big fight with Trelawney, the teacher of the divination class. Trelawney believes that Hermione has no talent for divination, so she denies her efforts. But the truth is that emotion and reason can't be both, Hermione will never become a soothsayer, and Hoffa will hardly be a Quidditch master.

After all, there are a few talented people in the world, especially in such a thing as sports.

In my previous life, I was semi-embarrassed in sports, and I could only watch others play, but I didn't expect to come to the wizarding world, and I was still like this.

If you can have a little talent in Transfiguration, that's enough. Why be greedy? There are many ways to fly, and you don't have to hang yourself from a tree. At the moment, what I should do is to learn and develop honestly.

Only those who survive future wars are qualified to pursue their own happiness in life. Now it is pointless to fight for honor and disgrace and be the child king of a group of 11-year-old students.

Thinking of this, Hoffa's mood calmed down, he spit out the dog's tail grass, and left the playground indifferently.

In the sky, Aglaia kept flying, but her eyes were always fixed on Hoffa, who was sitting in the corner.

The feeling of hitting Hoffa made her feel refreshed, and since she met this person, she was deflated again and again. Especially when she speculated on the other party's identity on the train, she felt ashamed and thrown to her grandmother's house.

Today she can be regarded as getting back on the field.

Seeing that Hoffa left so calmly, Aglaia felt that she had smashed her fist on the cotton again.