A new week had begun, and compared to the first week, Hogwarts had clearly become much livelier.
Because right after Monday's classes, a notice was posted on the Great Hall bulletin board: Quidditch player tryouts and first-year flying lessons would begin this week.
When it comes to flying, all humans instinctively long for the skies.
Ordinary people conquer the skies using airplanes, but wizards rely on flying brooms.
Oh, and also flying carpets.
But those had long been banned for sale across continental Europe. Not that many wizards cared much for flying carpets anyway.
They were too floaty and, being made of fur, were extremely hard to maintain. After a while, they got filthy.
And the Middle Eastern merchants were known for cutting corners, leading to frequent safety issues.
Almost no one liked flying carpets anymore.
In short, Quidditch instantly shot to the number one trending topic at Hogwarts.
No matter where you went, you could hear little witches and wizards talking about flying brooms and Quidditch.
"I once flew a broom around a Muggle helicopter and earned a ton of money doing it. You know what a helicopter is, right? That thing with spinning blades on top."
"The Muggles were terrified. Nearly fell out of the thing."
Malfoy had told this story several times already, and each time the details changed.
But it always ended with him skillfully dodging danger using his expert flying skills.
The other young wizards weren't to be outdone either.
They tossed around all kinds of Quidditch move names like pros, sounding as if they really knew their stuff.
Anyone who didn't know better might've believed they could actually pull those moves off.
Even the teachers joined in on the excitement.
Professor McGonagall had her students transform pencils into Bludgers in class.
None succeeded — except for Wayne.
Hermione, however, turned her pencil into a piece of cowhide.
Frustrated, the little witch snapped her pencil in two after class, but remembering she still needed it for next period, she quickly fixed it with a Reparo.
In Charms class, Professor Flitwick introduced a new spell — the Acceleration Charm.
"Actually, all flying brooms have pre-etched Acceleration Charms.
The more skilled the spell, the better the conductivity, and the faster the broom's acceleration.
These days, the Comet Company has refined their base acceleration charms countless times.
It's now the company's top-secret tech.
But if any of you could invent a more advanced Acceleration Charm, who knows?
You might even start your own flying broom company."
That speech fired the young witches and wizards up like they'd been injected with adrenaline.
They waved their wands and shouted excitedly — but the snails on their desks didn't budge an inch.
"What have you been busy with lately?"
Taking advantage of the moment when Professor Flitwick went to help Wayne, Hermione poked him lightly in the side.
Besides class, she hadn't seen Wayne at all these past two days.
He hadn't even appeared at the Hufflepuff table during lunch.
The boy yawned.
"Getting ready to do business. Almost done."
Hermione looked at him warily.
"Business? What kind of scheme are you cooking up now?"
"You'll find out soon enough," Wayne said, casually casting the Acceleration Charm.
His snail instantly activated its turbo engine, zooming past Hermione's and reaching the finish line first.
"Wanna make some pocket money?" Wayne raised an eyebrow.
"Of course! There are so many books I want to buy," Hermione replied helplessly.
"Then help me out in a couple of days. I'll give you thirty percent of the earnings."
Hermione eyed him suspiciously.
"You're not planning anything against the school rules, are you?"
"Classified. But I promise it's not against the rules."
"Hmph, fine, don't tell me then."
The little witch huffed and ignored Wayne for the rest of the lesson.
After class, as they stepped out of the classroom, Hermione hesitated for a moment before speaking:
"Malfoy's been talking bad about you a lot lately."
Wayne paused, then waved it off. "I'm busy, no time to deal with him. You shouldn't bother with it either. Let Harry deal with him."
"Deal with him how?" Harry had just come out of the classroom and froze slightly upon hearing his name.
"Let you bite Malfoy."
"Don't gross me out." Harry pulled a face of disgust. "But if I could land a punch on him, I'd be more than happy to."
...
Wayne had long known about Malfoy badmouthing him behind his back.
Hufflepuff had no shortage of students — they were everywhere. And since Malfoy wasn't exactly being discreet, it was natural some little Badgers overheard and told Wayne.
After hearing the full story, Wayne just shrugged it off.
"If no one envies you, you're probably a nobody." Wayne had outshone even Hermione recently, and within just a week, he'd become known among first-years as a true prodigy.
Naturally, Malfoy and his pure-blood circle didn't take kindly to that.
They didn't say much directly, just sneered that Wayne was only winning favor with the professors because he studied obsessively and prepared in advance.
But once it came to Quidditch — a sport traditionally dominated by pure-bloods who grew up with broomsticks — they believed Wayne's true colors would show.
Just petty childhood jealousy.
If Wayne got angry at such trivial things, how would he ever get anything done?
Before he knew it, it was Thursday.
Wayne had no classes that afternoon and was hiding in his room working on the items he planned to sell when suddenly, Toby and Norman burst in, faces full of excitement like they were ready to watch drama unfold.
"Big news!"
Wayne played along and tilted his head as if listening intently — though his hands didn't stop working.
"Longbottom broke his wrist!"
"Potter and Malfoy clashed during Flying Class. Madam Hooch wasn't there, so they took to the skies on their brooms, chasing each other like glue!"
...Was that really the right phrase to use?
Wayne twitched the corner of his mouth, silently mourning Toby's English skills.
Toby went on excitedly, "You have no idea — Potter was incredible! He made a fool out of Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall saw it. He's probably in huge trouble now."
"Not necessarily," Wayne said casually. "Maybe the professor saw how well he flew and will make an exception and let him join the Quidditch team. Didn't their Seeker graduate last year?"
"But we're first-years," Norman reminded him. "First-years aren't allowed on the Quidditch team."
"Actually, they can be." Wayne finally rolled up the parchment in his hand and looked at them. "Back in 1853, Cormac Fleming joined the school team as a first-year."
"...Fine, I can't out-debate you." Norman gave up. "What I'm really worried about is whether I'll crash like Longbottom tomorrow. Breaking a wrist is one thing — if I snap my neck, it's over."
"Don't worry," Wayne said, patting him on the shoulder. "If that happens, we'll visit you in the hospital wing."
Toby looked up in surprise. "If his neck's broken, shouldn't we be preparing the funeral feast?"
Norman: "..."
Could you guys not jinx me?
Just as they were about to sit down and read some Quidditch-related books, another voice called out excitedly from outside the door:
"Come quick! Potter and Malfoy are fighting in the Great Hall!"