Who let this evil dragon into Hogwarts!

Chapter 30 Flight Lessons

Flying lessons are probably the most anticipated class for first-year wizards.

No matter where you go.

You can always hear people bragging about how they rode flying broomsticks, dodged Muggle helicopters, dodged hang gliders, and even dodged German warplanes during World War II... It's as if everyone grew up riding broomsticks, and there are even a few who are older students who were born at least in 1945 and repeated a grade.

Poisson was not interested in these topics.

Because he really can fly.

And it doesn't require a flying broom.

However, after working non-stop for several days, he finally felt a little tired, and proper rest was obviously more beneficial to his physical and mental health.

Follow the crowd and go outside.

A gentle breeze caressed the face of the Persian palm, the lawn exuded the fragrance of earth, and everything seemed so pleasant...

It would be even better if there were fewer annoying little brats around.

Almost as soon as they arrived at the venue, Gryffindor and Slytherin started arguing, with Malfoy, as the head of the class, taking the lead and charging to the forefront of the verbal battle.

The young wizards only settled down when Mrs. Hooch, the professor of flying lessons, arrived and ordered everyone to choose a broom and stand still.

Persson arrived at the very edge of Slytherin, and Hermione joined him. Her broom was worn and old, much like her own expression.

"Persson, do you think the length of a broom affects flight altitude? Should I get a longer broom? Oh my god, what's that branch sticking out here! Will it still fly? Won't it fall down halfway? It's like a screw suddenly popping out of a roller coaster! Maybe I should buy some insurance."

Hermione kept talking with a pained expression, so to shut her up, Persson had to say:

"Don't worry, this won't be on the final exam."

Upon hearing this, Hermione's wrinkled little face indeed relaxed like a sunflower, and even the broom at her feet looked much more pleasing to the eye.

"Extend your right hand and place it above the broom handle," Mrs. Hodge commanded. "Then say, 'Get up!'"

Before Poss could even speak, his broom jumped into his hand on its own, like a docile puppy.

Then, following Mrs. Hooch's instructions, we easily ascended into the sky.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked pitifully from the ground.

Her broom just rolled on the ground, bounced forward twice, and then completely turned into a salted fish, lying there motionless.

"Perhaps you should try to believe, believe that you can fly," Poisson said vaguely.

For dragons, flying is an instinct.

Rather than thinking about how to take off, Poisson focused more on adjusting his posture to avoid the log under his buttocks being too uncomfortable.

"How could a person possibly fly..." Hermione muttered to herself, trying to convince herself otherwise.

But they haven't succeeded in brainwashing yet.

A terrified scream suddenly rang out, followed by a loud "bang!" as the body fell to the ground.

Neville, who was injured in the crash, was taken to the infirmary by Mrs. Hodge, and flight lessons had to be suspended.

But the restless little wizard clearly didn't think so.

Just as Harry and Malfoy were about to start their battle for the memory ball, Perseus arrived first under the shade of a tree by the lake, intending to enjoy the cool breeze and watch the show.

It's a pity there was no melon for him to eat...

Just then, Poisson's hand suddenly touched an oval-shaped, unidentified object, rough and tough.

Oh, it's a sweet potato...

Persson grabbed the red goblin that had suddenly appeared beside him, frowning as he asked, "Sweet Potato, what are you doing here? Has something happened in the territory?"

Sweet Potato was waving its arms and legs around, making impatient squeaking noises, which made Posson more and more confused.

Until it took out DouDing's drawing paper.

"Uh... one person? A lot of trolls, two of them with X's on their eyes... the territory has been attacked?"

Poisson diligently studied the blueprints, while Sweet Potato nodded excitedly.

"A wizard attacked the territory? Who did it?" Persson's heart also became anxious. Emerald Territory was the first step in his hegemony. He had only just begun to take the first step. How could someone want to break his legs?

The sweet potato started squeaking again, and it was clear that nothing of value could be gleaned from it. To find out the specifics, we would have to go there in person.

Transforming into a dragon and flying there is definitely not an option, and running on two legs is too slow.

Persson glanced at Harry and Malfoy, who were still flirting, and also gripped his flying broom tightly...

……

In the professor's office, Professor McGonagall was grading third-year students' quirky assignments. Looking at the assignments filled with fabrications and nonsense, she felt her blood pressure rising rapidly.

"Looks like there's still not enough homework..."

Professor McGonagall mentally sentenced her students to death.

"Throughout the third year, their Transfiguration skills are even worse than Mr. Persson's, a freshman! Especially the Weasley brothers, I don't know what kind of trouble they've gotten themselves into this time, they're always listless in class..."

Recalling the Weasley brothers' strange behavior these past few days, although it hasn't caused any impact yet, it's well known that the longer the charge-up time, the greater the power.

Professor McGonagall pessimistically predicted, "It won't be long before I have to deduct fifty points from my Gryffindor grades..."

"But before that, let's enjoy this rare good weather."

To calm her agitated mood, McGonagall put down her homework and went to the window.

She remembered that today seemed to be the day the freshmen took their first flight lesson.

Hopefully, we'll find some promising talents...

Last year, the Gryffindor team suffered a crushing defeat, especially against Slytherin. Professor McGonagall even avoided Snape for weeks. As an ultimate Quidditch fan, this was even more intolerable than losing the House Cup!

As she was pondering this, a dark shadow suddenly appeared in front of Professor McGonagall and then plummeted toward the ground at high speed.

"Oh my God!"

Professor McGonagall drew her wand, ready to save the young wizard who was about to break his neck, when she saw Harry catch the crystal ball a foot off the ground and deftly straighten the broom, just like a professional Quidditch player.

"A genius, an absolute genius..."

Professor McGonagall muttered to herself, seeing a resemblance to James in Harry. "We must recruit him into the Quidditch team. First-year students aren't allowed to ride flying broomsticks? No, now is not the time to concern ourselves with such formalities! I'm sure Dumbledore would be happy to make a small exception. This is the best chance to defeat Slytherin!"

Professor McGonagall seemed to be possessed, her mind filled with images of Gryffindor winning the Quidditch trophy. Her only remaining rationality pulled her toward the door, rather than jumping out the window.

But the next second—

Whoosh!

A hurricane swept in, and she had barely turned around when she saw Persson riding a flying broomstick, speeding away into the distance at a speed that the old-fashioned Seven Stars could never achieve. The gale he created was so strong that it could even blow Harry off the broomstick!

Professor McGonagall suddenly calmed down.

"Rules exist for a reason. It's really too dangerous for first-year wizards to participate in Quidditch matches."

"Perhaps I should suggest to Dumbledore that all house freshmen, especially Slytherin freshmen, be banned from joining the Quidditch team..."