Watching the twins and Lee disappear down the corridor, Alex turned to Cho and said with a smile,
"Let's head back too."
Cho, flushed and glassy-eyed from the Butterbeer, gave a soft nod. Her movements were sluggish, her gaze dreamy — she was clearly tipsy.
Alex could only sigh and shake his head in helpless amusement. He stepped closer and gently wrapped an arm around her, pulling the soft, delicate girl into his embrace. Her warmth, the subtle fragrance of pumpkin spice lingering from their feast… it was dangerously intoxicating.
This isn't right. Not legal. Not yet. Wait a few more years… he chanted to himself internally, forcing restraint.
They made their way back to the entrance of Ravenclaw Tower. Cho had sobered slightly during the walk, her senses gradually returning. But even then, she didn't pull away. Nestled comfortably in Alex's arms, she simply enjoyed the safety and warmth.
"Thank you, Alex," she whispered.
Then, summoning a burst of courage, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek — featherlight, barely a touch.
And before Alex could respond, she darted toward the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory, her ears pink and her steps flustered.
Alex stood frozen for a moment, dazed. He touched the spot on his cheek where she'd kissed him, murmuring,
"Why run? I barely even felt that…"
With a soft chuckle, he made his way to his room, the lingering warmth on his face carrying him into peaceful dreams.
. . .
Thursday afternoon. A wide expanse of grassy field stretched before the Hogwarts castle — today was their very first flying lesson.
Students from Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor were already gathered, buzzing with excitement and nerves.
Those from wizarding families were boasting nonstop about their broom-riding escapades as kids. Slytherins, in particular, were being insufferable.
Draco Malfoy was loudly recounting a story — probably exaggerated — about how he once dodged a Muggle helicopter on a broom.
Then, predictably, he launched into complaints about how first-years weren't allowed to try out for the Quidditch team.
While he bragged, he kept sneaking smug glances at Harry — and at Alex, who was chatting with Hermione not far away — clearly pitying them for being "broomless" before Hogwarts.
Alex, for his part, had zero interest in Malfoy's babble. He was focused on the anxious little witch in front of him.
"Don't worry, Hermione," he said gently. "Neither Harry nor I have ever ridden a broom either. You're not alone. And most of the others are bluffing."
Hermione looked pale, her curls slightly frizzed with stress. Harry had told him she'd been mumbling Quidditch facts from Quidditch Through the Ages all morning.
Neville was nearby too, nodding vigorously at Hermione's rapid-fire recitations, hoping to absorb whatever might help. In one hand, he clutched a Remembrall that was glowing faintly red — though he seemed to have forgotten that detail completely.
At last, Madam Hooch arrived, her whistle sharp and commanding, followed by a floating line of battered school brooms. She strode over briskly, pointing at the stack with her wand.
"Pick a broom," she instructed.
Alex picked one up and grimaced. It looked… ancient. The tail bristles were frayed, uneven, and partially falling out. Confidence? Suddenly optional.
"All right, right hand over the broom, like this," Madam Hooch demonstrated. "And say: Up!"
"UP!" Alex commanded with focus.
The broom leapt into his hand without hesitation. Harry's did the same.
But for others, chaos ensued.
Hermione's broom twitched, rolled once — then ignored her completely.
Malfoy's finally jerked upward, nearly smacking him in the nose.
After some basic explanations on balance and posture, Madam Hooch gave the call.
"Three! Two! One! Kick off!"
Alex pushed off the ground lightly. Immediately, he rose smoothly into the air — a natural. He quickly discovered that the broom obeyed his thoughts like an extension of his body. The blue-colored Flight Experience Book he'd read earlier was clearly working wonders.
But just as he was starting to enjoy himself, a scream tore through the air.
Neville, in full panic mode, had kicked off far too hard.
With a whoosh, he shot straight up at a ninety-degree angle, spiraling into the sky. Twenty feet off the ground — and still rising.
Then disaster struck.
His hands slipped from the broom handle.
Time seemed to slow as he began to fall, limbs flailing, eyes wide with terror.
Madam Hooch whipped out her wand, trying to cast the Levitation Charm — but she was too far, too slow.
The other students screamed. A few girls covered their eyes, already imagining the horrific crunch of impact.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The voice was clear, calm, and firm.
Alex's wand glowed.
The spell hit Neville mid-air, wrapping him in invisible force. His rapid descent slowed instantly, and with a graceful sweep of Alex's wand, Neville drifted down like a feather and landed safely in the grass.
Stunned silence.
Then — cheers exploded.
"Merlin's beard!" someone gasped.
Even Madam Hooch rushed over, both relieved and horrified, helping Neville up.
She checked him over thoroughly, then, still shaken, announced,
"I'm taking him to the infirmary. But before that—Ravenclaw earns ten points! Excellent spellwork, Mr. Gaunt!"
With that, she and Neville disappeared toward the castle.
. . .
As soon as she was gone, Draco started laughing — loudly, mockingly — at Neville's expense. Then he spotted something shiny on the grass.
Neville's Remembrall.
Grinning, he scooped it up.
"Look what I've found!" Malfoy smirked. "Let's play fetch. Longbottom can go and get it."
Then, without warning, he mounted his broom and soared into the air, holding the Remembrall above his head like a trophy.
"Come get it, Scarhead!"
Harry's jaw clenched. That was it.
He kicked off the ground, launching into the sky in hot pursuit.
Alex watched with amusement as Harry shot upward with natural grace, darting after Malfoy like a snitch-chasing Seeker. His Quidditch-star blood was clearly doing its job.
So this is how he gets scouted for the team, Alex mused. Not by talent tests, but by spontaneous midair justice.
He grinned, watching the two first-years twist and spin in the air, trading jabs and evasive maneuvers.
But then—
"AHHH!"
A sudden scream pierced the air.
Hermione.
In her panic over Harry's impulsive flight, she'd forgotten she was still in launch position. She gasped, took a single nervous step forward — and her broom shot up beneath her.
Like an arrow from a bowstring, she flew skyward — completely unprepared.
Alex stared in stunned silence.
Here we go again…
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