Chapter 37 Malfoy's Curse
It was 3:30 PM that afternoon.
After Charms class, their flying lesson was about to take place in the field in front of the castle gates.
It was a clear, breezy day.
A few sheep-shaped white clouds floated in the azure sky.
As they hurried down the sloping grass towards a flat lawn on the opposite side of the field, the lush green grass rippled gently beneath their feet.
Beyond the lawn lay the forest, with dark trees swaying in the wind in the distance.
The Slytherin students were already there, and twenty flying brooms were neatly arranged on the ground.
Basil spotted Draco Malfoy immediately. His
pale blond hair shone golden in the sunlight.
The small, thin boy stood timidly beside Crabbe and Goyle,
staring longingly at the brooms on the ground, wanting to touch them.
Basil couldn't help but think of the photograph of Narcissa Malfoy he had seen in the Wizarding Weekly.
Much prettier than in the movies!
Tall and slender, with fair skin, long golden hair, a cold and beautiful face, a pert nose, and thin lips that seemed to occasionally reveal a mocking expression.
In the moving photo, his nose is held high, with an arrogant expression as if he has smelled something foul.
It vaguely resembles Draco Malfoy on the train, extending his hand as if to bestow charity.
If this face showed a pitiful expression like Draco's now...
Hmm! Maybe after eliminating Lucius Malfoy, I could become Draco's stepfather?
"Narcissa, you don't want Draco to be an orphan and bullied, do you?"
Basil, contemplating important matters of life, still smiled brightly, exuding the temperament of a sunny and cheerful young man.
This made Hermione, who was muttering to herself and nervously watching the broom, relax.
In her eyes, Basil's brows were slightly furrowed, showing a hint of melancholy.
But he was also strong and independent, masking everything with a cheerful smile.
A gentle breeze ruffled his golden hair, and the refreshing scent, like that of a meadow after a rain shower, filled her nostrils.
For a moment, she even forgot that not far away, their flight instructor—Mrs. Hooch, with her short gray hair and two yellow, eagle-like eyes—was watching them.
She snapped, "You brown-haired girl! What are you dawdling for!"
"Everyone stand next to a flying broomstick. Hurry, hurry, make the most of it."
Her voice softened unconsciously when she reached Basil, who was still standing there motionless.
"Child, come here."
She picked out the best broomstick and walked over to Basil.
"Here, your broomstick for this class. Class is about to start."
Basil, lost
in his daydreams, snapped back to reality.
The image of Narcissa's delicate, elegant face in her noblewoman's dress was replaced by the face of this masculine woman with yellow hawk eyes and an iron-willed expression.
Basil resisted the urge to take a step back and calmly accepted the broomstick.
He walked to the middle of Hermione, who blushed, and Ron, who looked on with envy.
Harry glanced down at his own flying broomstick—old and worn, with twigs sticking out haphazardly.
Then he looked at Basil's—clean and new, with neatly arranged twigs forming the tail.
He suddenly understood Ron's feelings.
"Why is Mrs. Hooch so gentle with you!" Ron muttered under his breath.
Neville, Seamus, and Dean stood together,seemingly lost in thought, staring at the broom in front of them as if it were a dangerous viper.
Basil glanced at Neville.
This second savior.
In group life, students with similar interests, personalities, or backgrounds often form small groups, consciously or unconsciously.
This is why Gryffindor students like to break school rules.
While the Sorting Hat plays a role in selection, it's also a manifestation of individuals being influenced by the group.
This is why he hates the Sorting House.
A person's personality cannot be simply categorized by four attributes.
A month passed, and their class also formed small groups based on the complementary and compatible personalities of the students.
Even with Basil's deliberate efforts to bring them closer, Neville unknowingly drifted away from them.
He became friends with Seamus and Dean, who lived in the next dormitory with the second-year students.
Hermione, Lavender, and Padma were the only three girls in the first year of Gryffindor.
The three of them shared a dormitory, but Lavender and Padma barely paid any attention to Hermione.
Instead, they played with Padma's twin sister, Parvati, who was in Ravenclaw.
He himself formed a small group with Harry and Ron, with Hermione joining as an accessory.
"Looks like Neville's Echo is going to be scrapped," Basil sighed inwardly.
The flying lesson officially began.
"Extend your right hand and place it above the broom handle," Madam Hooch called from the front, "and say, 'Get up!'"
"Get up!" Basil's broom obediently jumped into his hand.
Harry's did too.
To Basil's surprise, Draco Malfoy's broom was just as compliant.
But Crabbe and Goyle's brooms,
like Neville's, remained motionless.
"Looks like Malfoy's success as Seeker wasn't entirely due to his father,"
Basil glanced at Ron.
Ron's broom had also jumped into his hand.
He walked over to Neville and whispered, "The broom, like a horse, can see your inner cowardice. You have courage, but clearly you'd rather stay on the ground than in the sky."
"Thank you, Basil," Neville nodded.
He closed his eyes, ready to try again.
However, Madam Hooch seemed impatient.
She wasn't willing to give the other students, including Neville, who hadn't yet succeeded, time.
She abruptly called a halt, "Alright, the broom-calling session is over."
"Please place the broom under your crotch,"
she yelled at Seamus, whose mother was a witch and father a Muggle, and who had never actually handled a broom before.
"Boy! Don't worry, it won't get stuck! The broom's been padded with a cushion charm."
Basil, also a broom-wielder, sat down, a comfortable, enveloping feeling enveloping his lower body.
The sensation was elusive, like touching soft clouds.
The invisible cushion created by magic was indeed incomparable to any filling!
This time, he exclaimed, "No wonder flying brooms are so popular, it's so...comfortable!"
"Neville, you try it too, it's very comfortable."
Neville trembled as he sat down, remaining motionless.
But as he touched the cushion, his expression relaxed.
Then, Madam Hooch corrected each of their broom-holding techniques.
But when it came to Malfoy, things changed.
Madam Hooch's repeated corrections and criticisms caused Malfoy to explode.
All the negative emotions she'd been holding surged up.
"Shut up, old woman! That's how the greatest Seeker, Gwenogg Jones, holds his broom!"
Mrs. Hooch's first reaction wasn't anger, but shock.
"You're a fan of the Holy Head Harpies? But it's an all-female team!"
"Child, that grip is more suitable for women."
"You don't have any troublesome breasts, you don't need to grip like that. Besides, it puts all the pressure on your genitals, which isn't good for male sexual organs."
Ron started laughing maniacally.
Crabbe did the same.
Mrs. Hooch didn't notice Ron, but sternly said to Crabbe, "Don't laugh at your classmates."
She didn't notice that Malfoy's hand had already reached into his pocket.
"Hot as fire!" Malfoy screamed.
The movement was so swift that no one could react.
A beam of light struck Crabbe.
Crabbe stopped laughing maniacally.
He screamed loudly, covering his nose with his hand; ugly boils were sprouting from his nose.
"How dare you!" Mrs. Hooch was truly angry.
She grabbed Draco by the ear.
Draco didn't resist; his face was filled with the pleasure of revenge.
He became smug, and the Slytherins around him regained their awe,especially Goyle.
"And you," Madam Hooch said, looking at Crabbe with disgust, "you come along too. When I take this child to the Slytherin Headmaster's office, you come along too. Go to the infirmary by yourself."
"None of you are allowed to move until I return! Put the flying brooms back where they are, or else you'll lose points!"
"By the way, Slytherin loses 10 points!"
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(End of Chapter)