"Help—"
Riiiip.
The sound of tearing fabric accompanied Neville's scream as he plummeted rapidly downward.
Leo immediately drew his wand and fired an instant silent Levitation Charm, striking Neville mid-air. The boy's chubby body briefly hovered, then descended at a steady pace back to solid ground.
Walking to the window, Leo watched Neville land on all fours before slowly getting up and dusting off his robes.
He let out a quiet sigh of relief. Good thing his reflexes were sharp enough.
Silent spells really did prove their worth in emergencies. When every second counted, being even a fraction faster made all the difference.
Soon, Madam Hooch came hurrying over to Neville. The boy was trembling, face pale with lingering fear.
Though Neville insisted he felt fine and didn't seem injured from the fall, Madam Hooch looked worried. She decided to escort him to the hospital wing personally.
Before leaving, she called out to the remaining students: "Stop practising! Everyone wait here until I get back!"
Leo observed the entire scene from his library window. While Madam Hooch hadn't managed to save Neville with magic in time—which didn't exactly meet teaching standards—she clearly cared about her students.
Well, the plot'll probably develop the same way then. Harry and Malfoy would compete for Neville's dropped Remembrall, then Professor McGonagall would discover Harry's flying talent, and so on.
Nothing to do with him. Back to studying.
Leo settled into his chair and picked up his book again.
During the small commotion, normally no one would've noticed Leo using magic—it was quick and concealed. But there were exceptions.
Like a certain blonde girl who'd been watching him the entire time.
She'd seen Leo draw his wand. Seen him cast without speaking any incantation. Seen the boy outside halt mid-air.
Daphne's mouth fell open slightly, her eyes unfocused as she murmured: "A silent spell? That was a silent spell, wasn't it? Leo didn't say any incantation..."
"Didn't Mother say silent spells were advanced techniques? Only sixth years learn those at Hogwarts. Isn't Leo the same year as me?"
After this bout of muttering, Daphne snapped back to attention, but her heart was still racing.
She looked at Leo again. The irritation from being ignored had vanished, replaced by disbelief and genuine respect.
Coming from the Greengrass family—one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight—Daphne had grown up around magic. Her understanding far exceeded most peers.
But she'd never heard of anyone using silent spells at their age!
That required exquisite magical control, but more importantly, a total amount of magical power that young wizards simply didn't possess yet.
"Leo's clearly the same age as me. How could he have such vast magical reserves?"
"Pure-blood? No, Grafton... I've never heard of this pure-blood family. Some reclusive family, maybe? But there aren't many with those habits nowadays."
"Leo really is extraordinary. Different from those people who just flatter me. He's qualified to be my friend!"
Daphne's eyes lit up as she started to rise, planning to approach him.
"Young lady!" A sharp, angry voice rang out behind her. "The library is for reading and studying! Not for chatting with yourself. Leave. Now!"
Hearing Madam Pince's scolding, Daphne's face flushed red and then went pale. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts she'd forgotten about the strict librarian.
"I—"
But Madam Pince had already raised her feather duster threateningly.
Daphne fled immediately, not daring to argue. In the library, Madam Pince didn't care if you were pure-blood or from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. She wouldn't tolerate anyone disrupting the study atmosphere.
Daphne couldn't bring herself to look in Leo's direction. Too embarrassing!
Just as she was being scolded and fleeing, Leo finally glanced over. But he only caught a glimpse of pale golden hair disappearing rapidly.
Someone else got kicked out. Having Madam Pince maintain the library environment like this was actually helpful.
That retreating figure looked familiar, though...
Just as Leo was trying to place it—
Bang!
The sound of someone hitting the ground hard. Followed by painful wailing and excited chatter from children.
Leo set down his book and looked out the window.
Why's there commotion again? Didn't I just save Neville?
Maybe this morning wasn't meant for library study. Should've checked his horoscope.
Leo gathered his book, preparing to leave. He wouldn't go join the excitement—his studies were more important.
Besides, Harry or Ron would definitely find him later to chat about whatever just happened. Gryffindor never passed up chances to boast about beating Slytherin, even if it was just two first-years competing on broomsticks.
A few minutes earlier, on the flying field...
"Give me the Remembrall, Malfoy!"
"No way! I'm going to hide it and let Longbottom go find it himself."
Malfoy mounted his broomstick and took off. Harry couldn't let that slide and chased after him.
They pursued each other for several minutes before stopping mid-air.
"Want this, Potter?" Malfoy held up the Remembrall provocatively.
Harry wanted to rush over but didn't want to be toyed with. He tried thinking of a strategy, suddenly remembering something.
Both hands dived into his robe pockets. One drew his wand; the other pulled out a small iron jar.
Unscrewing the lid revealed pale blue solid material and a wick. The sleep-inducing incense Leo had taught him yesterday.
"Spreads quickly... makes wizards fall asleep in five seconds... light with a Spark Charm..."
He quickly recalled Leo's instructions.
"Scintilla Spargo!"
After lighting the incense, Harry immediately held his breath while hurling the small jar toward Malfoy.
Quite coincidentally, Malfoy also threw the Remembrall—but toward the distance.
"If you want it, go get it yourself!"
Harry flew directly toward the falling Remembrall while Malfoy caught what Harry had thrown at him.
"Really, Potter? Are you five? Throwing things at—"
Malfoy's mocking words cut off as his eyes rolled back. He released his broomstick and plummeted straight down.
Meanwhile, Harry chased the Remembrall at high speed, finally catching it right in front of a window with a beautiful turn.
Harry was still smugly pleased with his victory, not noticing the stern older woman observing him through that very window.
"AHHHHH—"
A loud, pained wail carried from the field.
The sound reached both Harry and Professor McGonagall. Her expression immediately turned serious.
Harry went pale, realising he might've caused some serious trouble.