Chapter 15: "The Landlubber"

Hoffa was up earlier than ever this day.

Flying is a human dream. As a wizard, Hoffa certainly has an ambition to travel through the clouds. Especially in 1938, airplanes were not as popular as later generations. If you can learn to ride a broomstick, you will not only be able to go out much easier, but you will also have a life-saving card in the future. After all, the Muggle Air Force in this era is not as good as later generations. Horror is accurate, and most of the wars are land battles.

In the dining hall in the morning, a group of calm Ravenclaws were discussing Quidditch anecdotes with rare excitement.

The breakfast at Hogwarts is very rich. Fried eggs, bread, vegetable or fruit salad, sausage or bacon coffee, tea, milk, butter, jam and juice. There are other cereal porridges.

But Hoffa was focused on flying lessons, and was afraid that he would spit it out too quickly when he ate too much, so he ate very little, and ate a sausage and a little oatmeal.

Some students from wizarding families boasted about their flying history.

William Carlson is another roommate of Hoffa's dormitory. He was telling his friends about his family's glorious flying history early in the morning, and he also said that his father once rode a broom to avoid the plane hunt and shoot.

Taylor Smith was a descendant of Muggles in their dormitory. William was bragging on the sidelines, while Taylor was listening with gusto, eyes full of envy. For Muggles in this era, flying is basically hopeless if they don't become the Royal Air Force.

The students on Ravenclaw's side were pretty good. At the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, the group of students gathered together in small groups and laughed loudly from time to time.

The ones who laugh are basically boys. Quidditch in this era is still a boy's game, and girls rarely participate in it.

After breakfast, a group of people walked out of the auditorium quickly. Came to a grass field near the school Quidditch field.

It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled slightly under their feet. On the other side of the lawn is the Forbidden Forest, and the dark trees in the distance are swaying in the wind.

The lesson was with the first years of Slytherin, and the Slytherins were already there, a row of broomsticks neatly lined up on the ground. Tom Riddle was chatting and laughing with a few classmates, and he caught a glimpse of Hoffa, but he didn't say anything.

In fact, since the two of them came to the school, the conflict seemed to disappear. Become two unrelated passers-by. There was neither orphanage rancor nor signs of recognition.

Hoffa knew Riddle's super ambition, he was not a childish child like Malfoy. It is impossible to spend energy on pointlessly finding faults.

Not long after, their teacher came. Hoffa had heard it from his roommates at breakfast. The name of the Quidditch teacher was Palio Leo, who was a batsman for the Irish team in the 1920 Quidditch World Cup. Their team's best score in that year reached the semi-finals of the World Cup, which is very remarkable.

Pario was a tall, arm-length man with curly brown hair and a bright face.

Seeing the freshman, he whistled.

"What are you waiting for, quickly line up according to height!"

The crowd moved noisily.

Watch these 11-year-olds jostling and jostling around.

Palio intervened impatiently. Pull out each child, scramble and place them in different positions.

Hoffa was originally standing with Miranda, but Pario pulled them away because Hoffa was half a head taller than Miranda. He was pushed by Pario to the side of another man.

That's right, Aglea again.

They are about the same height.

Seeing Hoffa being pushed, Aglea snorted coldly.

Originally, the warm sunshine and gentle breeze made Hoffa very comfortable, but now, standing next to Aglaia, he felt uncomfortable all over.

Seeing that the students were photographed in arithmetic progressions according to their height, Mr. Pario seemed extremely satisfied.

Then he whistled, and said, "Put your right hand over the handle of the broom, and say, 'Get up!'"

"Get up!" everyone yelled.

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

Nothing happens.

So he took a heavy breath.

"stand up!"

Still nothing happens.

He suddenly felt puzzled, what's going on?

He turned his head and looked, someone's broom was up soon. For example, Tom Riddle standing opposite 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 children's brooms fell slowly on the ground and rolled around, looking very reluctant.

Miranda, for example, seemed to hesitate a bit with her broom, going up and down again. But it was moving anyway.

But only his own broom remained motionless.

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

"Muggle." A pleasant sarcasm came from the side.

Hoffa saw Aglaia on the right, smiling smugly, her arms folded, motionless.

So Hoffa said to her the only sentence in a week: "What are you proud of, yours haven't moved."

"Is it...?" She elongated her tone, as if enjoying this moment extremely.

After speaking, Aglaia looked at him sarcastically, with one arm on his chest and the other on top of the broomstick. Nothing was said.

The broomstick swished 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.

"stand up!"

The breeze brushed the tattered branches, and it was motionless. Like a dead salted fish.

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

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

Hoffa: "Master, my broom is broken."

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

"stand up."

Hoffa's broom flashed out of his reach and into Palio's hands.

Palio looked at it and said displeasedly: "What are you talking about, this broom is in excellent condition." After speaking, he threw the broom back to Hoffa.

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

It's dead again.

"Hahahahahahahaha~"

Aglaia laughed happily, and that sweet look made Hoffa's teeth itch with hatred. She said:

"Flying Muggles, the landlubbers of wizards, are people without any talent for flying. Such people are rare in history, but you are undoubtedly one of them. In Britain and all of Europe, flying is an ancient and ancient science. An elegant art, Quidditch is a senior social sport. It represents those outstanding people who have the ability to dominate in the crowd, and you”

"Shut up! If you don't speak, no one will think you are dumb."

Hoffa's face was livid, and he stopped drinking Aglaia directly. This time, he no longer wanted to maintain a superficial peace with Aglaia.

He directly took out his wand and pointed to the broom on the ground.

"Wingardim Leviosa!"

Under the effect of the floating spell, Hoffa's broom took off like a mangy dog, and Hoffa held it in his hand in pain, almost trembling.

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

Then, something Hoffa didn't expect happened.

Aglaia on the side raised her hand.

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

The noisy meadow fell silent.

Everyone turned their heads and looked at Aglea and Hoffa.

Hoffa was shocked, making a small report? This kind of thing is hated no matter in which world. The person next to me actually did it in such an open manner.

Did the earth revolve around her, and why was she assigned to Ravenclaw?

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

"Right." Hoffa sighed.

"What curse?"

"Levitation spell."

Hoffa said.

Pario took a deep breath, then let it out.

"In Quidditch, casting a spell on a broom is a major foul. Did you know that?"

"I don't know," Hoffa said deadpan.

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

Hoffa threw the broom away, put away his wand and strode aside. He folded his arms and did not speak.

The ever-changing life was beyond Hoffa's expectation again. He is not Harry Potter, and he has no talent for flying. Not to mention the talent for Quidditch, and even the rules of Quidditch.

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

The students stood up one after another, and some were riding crookedly on brooms. Someone is flying around fast and fast. Aglaia was the best flyer among the crowd. She didn't even use her hands to hold the handle of the broomstick. She put 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. Hoffa was leaning against a tall tower, holding a piece of dogtail in his mouth, watching the crowds flying above his head, and felt that he was out of place with this land for the first time.

Aglaia had a point. In the wizarding world, Quidditch was indeed a game that only the talented could play. Just like those sailing races held by the American Ivy League universities in the previous life, they are not in the upper class circles, and they may not take you to play.

Asking himself, Hoffa knew why the broom just ignored him, because he didn't want to participate in Quidditch, he just wanted to fly.

Those Quidditch rules seemed stupid to him.

Especially when catching the Golden Snitch directly rewrites the rules of the game. There is no reason at all, complete personal heroism.

In comparison, he prefers football in the Muggle world. Everyone matters.

At this moment, he thought of many things. He thought of the previous life novel where Hermione had a big fight with Divination teacher Trelawney. Trelawney believed that Hermione had no talent for divination, so she denied her efforts. But the fact is that sensibility and rationality cannot be both, Hermione will never become a fortuneteller, and it is difficult for Hoffa to become a master of Quidditch.

After all, there are very few talented people in the world, especially for things like sports.

In my previous life, I was half-embarrassed in sports, and I could only watch others play. I didn't expect that I would still be like this when I came to the wizarding world.

It is enough for me to have a little talent in Transfiguration. Why be greedy. If you want to fly, there are many ways, and you don't have to hang yourself on a tree. The top priority, what I should do is to study and develop honestly.

Only those who survive the future wars are eligible to pursue their own happiness in life. It is meaningless to fight for honor and disgrace now, to be the king among a group of 11-year-old students.

After thinking about this, Hoffa calmed down, spit out the bristlegrass, and left the playground calmly with his hands behind his back.

In the sky, Aglaia has been flying, but her eyes are always locked on Hoffa who is sitting in the corner.

The feeling of beating Hoffa made her feel good, and she had been devastated again and again since meeting this man. Especially when she guessed the other party's identity on the train, she felt ashamed and lost to her grandma's house.

Today, she can be regarded as having found her place again.

But seeing Hoffa leave so calmly, Aglaia felt that she had punched the cotton again.