Out on the training grounds, the first-year students stood in two long rows facing one another across the grass.
The atmosphere was already tense before the lesson had even begun.
Ron glared viciously at Draco Malfoy from across the field and muttered, "Brilliant. Another class with the Slytherins. I seriously don't understand why the timetable keeps forcing us together with them."
Malfoy immediately caught the complaint and smirked.
"Oh? Is the poor Weasley family unhappy again?" he drawled mockingly. "What a shame. Unfortunately, your opinions don't really matter to noble Slytherins."
His pale face carried open arrogance.
"After all, we're obviously superior to Gryffindors. Some people in your house can't even answer basic classroom questions."
Harry's expression darkened instantly.
It was obvious Malfoy was referring to the humiliation from Potions class earlier.
Before Ron could explode alone, Harry stepped forward beside him, both boys glaring directly at Malfoy. Unfortunately, even with two people confronting him, Malfoy still looked completely relaxed.
Ron's ears had already turned bright red.
At this rate, it genuinely looked like he might throw himself at Malfoy physically within the next thirty seconds.
"Enough!"
Madam Hooch's sharp voice cut through the argument before things escalated further.
The flying instructor stood in the centre of the field with her hawk-like yellow eyes narrowed dangerously at the students.
"Today," she announced firmly, "you will begin learning basic broom control."
The students immediately quieted down.
A row of old school brooms lay neatly on the grass beside every student.
"Each of you already has a broom beside you," Madam Hooch continued. "Your first task is simple. Use your magic to call the broom into your hand and establish control over it."
Her expression became severe.
"And before any of you attempt reckless stunts in the air, I strongly suggest you first learn how not to fall to your deaths."
A few nervous laughs spread through the students.
Madam Hooch raised her whistle.
"When I say start, hold your hand over the broom and command it upward."
She blew the whistle sharply.
"Start!"
Immediately, shouts erupted across the field.
"Up!"
"Come on!"
"UP!"
Hermione's face quickly became frustrated.
No matter how many times she ordered the broom upward, it merely twitched slightly on the ground before returning to complete stillness.
"Up!" Hermione snapped again.
The broom rolled half an inch.
Then stopped.
Meanwhile, Ron's performance somehow looked even worse. His broom didn't move at all.
Not even slightly.
At this point, it was unclear whether the broom was ignoring him or actively mocking him.
Logan, however, only needed a few attempts before the broom leapt smoothly into his hand.
The surrounding students immediately looked over in surprise.
Without hesitation, Logan mounted the broom and gently pushed off the ground.
The moment his feet left the earth—
Ding~
Sage Mode activated.
A strange sense of clarity instantly spread through Logan's body.
The broom beneath him no longer felt like a separate object. Instead, it felt like an extension of his own limbs, responding naturally to every movement and intention.
His balance stabilised almost immediately.
Ding~
Detected exceptional aerial aptitude.
Broom Flight skill automatically acquired.
Skill evolution complete.
Skipping Beginner rank.
Current Skill:
Magical Flight [Proficient]
Logan nearly lost control from shock.
This counted as a skill too?!
Even riding a broomstick had been absorbed into the system?
What surprised him even more was the rank itself. Unlike his other abilities, Magical Flight had skipped Beginner entirely and started directly at Proficient level.
That meant his natural talent for flying was absurdly high.
Honestly…
That was terrifying.
But before Logan could think about it further, instinct took over.
He accelerated.
The broom shot through the sky like a black arrow.
Gasps instantly erupted across the training grounds.
Logan swept across the air at astonishing speed, weaving through sharp turns and rapid dives effortlessly. His movements became smoother and faster with every passing second, until the students below could barely follow him with their eyes anymore.
To them, he looked like a streak of black lightning cutting through the sky.
Hermione stared upward silently for several seconds.
Then she sighed internally.
Fine.
She was officially giving up on competing with Logan in flying lessons.
There were some battles she simply wasn't meant to win.
Madam Hooch watched Logan's movements with genuine shock.
In all her years teaching at Hogwarts, she had never seen a first-year adapt to a broom so naturally. Most students spent weeks learning proper balance and steering.
Logan, meanwhile, looked like someone born in the air.
Below, Ron was still attempting to communicate spiritually with the broom on the ground.
Watching Logan soar overhead while his own broom remained motionless, Ron muttered sourly, "When Merlin scattered talent across the world, did Logan use a swimming pool to collect his share?"
He looked down at his own empty hands.
"And apparently I brought an umbrella."
Nearby, Malfoy had also successfully mounted his broom.
Unlike most students, he looked perfectly comfortable in the air. The Malfoy family had introduced him to flying years ago, so basic broom riding posed no challenge at all.
Still…
When he looked up and saw Logan darting through the sky at impossible speed while performing sharp aerial turns, even Malfoy couldn't hide his astonishment.
Recently, stories about Logan Anderson had spread throughout Hogwarts nonstop.
The first-year capable of wandless magic.
Professor McGonagall's favourite student.
The only Gryffindor to receive praise from Professor Snape.
A brilliant wizard.
A handsome wizard.
A powerful wizard.
Now there was apparently another achievement to add to the list.
Exceptional flying talent.
Honestly, Malfoy wasn't even jealous anymore.
At this point, he was almost impressed.
From the moment they first met on the Hogwarts Express, Logan had already left a strong impression on him. The boy carried himself with natural confidence, and his appearance resembled the kind of elegant young heir one would expect from an ancient pure-blood family.
Standing beside Logan often made Malfoy feel strangely inferior.
Originally, he had intended to befriend Harry Potter.
Then he met Logan Anderson and immediately thought:
Who cares about Harry Potter?
Unfortunately, Crabbe and Goyle had completely ruined his first opportunity to properly connect with Logan.
Worse still, Logan had somehow become friends with Harry Potter and the Weasleys instead.
The Weasleys!
A family Malfoy considered poor enough to qualify as a public health concern.
The mere thought genuinely upset him.
And recently, he had heard even more horrifying rumours from the girls in Slytherin.
Apparently, Logan had been secretly meeting a Muggle-born girl in the library almost every day.
Malfoy had nearly suffered emotional damage from the revelation.
How could someone like Logan lower himself so far?
Clearly, Potter and Weasley must have corrupted him somehow. And that irritating Muggle-born girl had probably seduced him with manipulative tactics.
Yes.
That had to be the truth.
Malfoy straightened slightly as determination filled his heart.
He would prove himself superior to Potter and the Weasleys.
Eventually, Logan would realise that Draco Malfoy alone deserved to stand beside him as his true friend.
While everyone remained trapped in their own thoughts, Neville Longbottom finally managed to get his broom under control.
His face lit up with excitement.
"I did it!"
Carefully, Neville climbed onto the broom and slowly floated upward into the air.
At first, everything seemed fine.
Then the broom suddenly jerked violently sideways.
Neville panicked immediately.
The broom began accelerating wildly through the air, twisting unpredictably while Neville clung to it for dear life.
"Neville!" Hermione shouted.
"I can't stop it!" Neville screamed desperately.
The broom shot higher and higher.
Neville's terrified cries echoed across the training grounds as the out-of-control broom raced through the sky.
.....
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