Clark's mind went blank for a moment.
When he came back to his senses.
He instantly made a decision.
One hand gripping the front, the other gripping the back.
He forcibly clamped the broken broomstick with both arms.
At the same time, his legs exerted more force, preventing more splinters from falling.
After a smooth set of small combo moves, Clark felt much more relieved.
Although the posture was slightly weird...
But, it was better than being exposed.
However, this was not a long-term solution after all.
Right now, he urgently needed a reason to land!
"Help!"
Suddenly, a scream rang in Clark's ears.
Turning his head to look.
He saw Neville flying up and down uncontrollably, as if he had lost control.
Madam Hooch hurried over, trying to comfort Neville: "Don't panic, take it slow, relax your body, but don't let go of your hands."
Relax?
Sorry, can't do it.
The panic-stricken Neville could no longer hear any outside sounds.
After circling a few times in the air, he was bucked off the broomstick and fell rapidly from the sky.
Seeing this, Madam Hooch made a rapid dive and caught Neville's foot before he hit the ground, thus avoiding a tragedy.
Even so, Neville was badly frightened and looked lost in soul.
Madam Hooch placed Neville on the lawn, observed for a moment, then looked up and shouted to the young wizards in the air: "Everyone come down, stay on the ground and don't move. After I send Mr. Longbottom back, we will continue the class."
Although the Gryffindor and Slytherin freshmen were reluctant, they knew in their hearts that there was no other way, and landed one after another.
Clark did the same.
His mood was somewhat complicated.
He was grateful to Neville for giving him the chance to land, but also worried about Neville's physical condition.
After Madam Hooch carried Neville to the hospital wing, the students gathered in twos and threes, forming many small circles.
Ron and Harry found Clark with their broomsticks, their expressions not looking good.
"Hope Neville is okay." Ron sighed.
Harry pushed up his glasses: "He should just be overly frightened, probably will be fine soon."
"After class, let's go to the hospital wing to see him," Clark suggested.
As he said this, he was still straddling the broomstick, maintaining the weird posture of one hand in front and one hand in back.
Ron blinked and asked puzzledly: "Clark, why don't you get off the broomstick?"
Harry also asked: "Yeah, isn't it uncomfortable riding it all the time?"
Clark's expression stiffened, and he laughed dryly a few times: "Well..."
Just as he started, Clark heard a surprised shout from not far away: "Look! I found a treasure!"
Harry and Ron looked towards the sound.
When they saw clearly what was in Draco Malfoy's hand, their expressions changed instantly.
"That thing doesn't belong to you!"
Ron was always the most loyal one.
He roared and strode towards Draco.
Harry followed closely behind, his lips pursed tight.
Draco was just feeling happy.
Suddenly hearing Ron's voice, his pale face instantly collapsed.
Ron and Harry came to Draco and said righteously:
"That's Neville's Remembrall."
"Give it back quickly!"
"Finders keepers." Draco raised an eyebrow and said disdainfully to Harry and Ron: "Just you two, want to stand up for someone else?"
As he spoke, he looked for Clark's figure.
Finding that Clark was still behind, riding the broomstick in a comical posture, his heart instantly returned to his stomach, and he became even more arrogant: "A poor wretch, a scar-head, hurry back and scram, don't embarrass yourselves here."
Ron raised his broomstick with both hands, acting as a weapon: "Say that again?"
Seeing this, Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward with tacit understanding.
Draco's mouth was truly venomous, but his guts were truly small, calmly shielding himself behind the two.
Ron looked solemn.
He turned his head slightly and glanced out of the corner of his eye.
Finding that Clark was still standing in place with no intention of coming over, he couldn't help but feel a bit puzzled.
In his impression, Clark was not someone who hid from trouble...
But the situation was urgent, leaving no room for Ron to think about unrelated things. He warned in a deep voice: "I'll say it one last time, give the thing back."
Draco, hiding behind Crabbe and Goyle, shook his head and said: "You know the rules. If you want it, you have to come and get it yourself."
After speaking, he suddenly mounted his broomstick, pushed off slightly, and flew into the sky.
"You come down here!" Ron shouted exasperatedly.
While the voice was still echoing, another figure flew rapidly into the sky.
"Give me the thing, Malfoy!" Harry approached Draco rapidly, like an arrow leaving the string.
Draco was startled and quickly maneuvered his broomstick away from Harry.
A chase began—
Draco in front, Harry behind.
The two flew over the lawn and through the towers.
Amidst countless exclamations, the distance sometimes closed and sometimes widened.
"Is that all you've got, Potter?" Draco was an experienced flyer; while controlling the broomstick, he didn't forget to look back and mock.
Harry didn't speak, his eyes locked firmly on Draco, getting faster and faster.
Seeing Harry flying closer, Draco unconsciously sped up.
But he forgot.
Hogwarts teaching broomsticks were not his family's 'Nimbus 1700'. (Note: Nimbus 1700 is likely a fictional model created by the author or a typo for Nimbus 2000/1000/etc., but adhering to raw text.)
The unannounced acceleration caused the old broomstick to emit billowing thick smoke.
Draco didn't notice at first, but when his lower body felt roasted, he realized something was wrong with the broomstick.
Panicking inside, he hurriedly braked.
Draco's braking didn't matter to him, but it was miserable for Harry who was chasing closely behind.
Harry didn't expect Draco to stop suddenly. In a hurry, he could only pull the broomstick up, hoping to avoid Draco.
The good news was, he avoided him.
The bad news was, not completely.
Harry's leg hit Draco's back.
Under the force, both of them staggered involuntarily, instantly lost balance, and fell from the sky one after another.
"Finished."
This was the first thought that emerged in both their minds.
The wind beside them was like a knife, cutting their faces painfully.
Harry and Draco's minds went blank.
Noisy sounds vaguely drilled into their ears.
They knew those were the screams of their classmates.
The two fell into deep despair.
Just then, a figure appeared abruptly!
Harry and Draco felt like they hit a big mountain, rolled their eyes, and fainted directly.
Amidst countless gasps, Clark shielded Harry and Draco in his arms, then with his back facing down, free-fell.
Bang!
The violent impact smashed a human-shaped crater on the lawn.
Gryffindor and Slytherin students ran over hurriedly.
Just in time to see Clark carrying Harry and Draco on his shoulders, standing up from the pit, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.
Heart-stopping?
Just a slightly dirty hem.
Time seemed to freeze. The young wizards looked at Clark incredulously, so shocked they couldn't even speak.
After waiting for a long time with no one stepping forward, Clark had to put down Harry and Draco from his shoulders first.
After doing all this, he seemed to think of something, took out a crystal ball from Draco, and put it into his own pocket very naturally.
"Who will go to the hospital wing to notify Madam Hooch?" Clark asked the surroundings.
No one spoke.
Clark scratched his head: "Alright, I'll go myself."
As his words fell, Ron rushed up fiercely, checking Clark back and forth: "Are you okay? I mean, do you feel like vomiting blood?"
"You're exaggerating. It's true I fell, but the grass here is very soft and absorbed most of the falling force." Clark used the excuse he had prepared long ago, and deliberately shook his head and sighed: "It's just a pity for my broomstick. When saving the two of them, I accidentally broke it by bumping into it."
Ron was both excited and scared, not forgetting to complain: "What time is it, why care about that broken broomstick!"
Clark chuckled and stopped talking.
Ten minutes later—
Clark arrived at the hospital wing escorted by all the Gryffindor freshmen.
Madam Hooch listened to the students' chaotic accounts, her vision went black, and she almost fainted.
Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing was also startled and quickly checked the bodies of Harry, Draco, and Clark.
It was gratifying that Harry and Draco just fainted from excessive fright.
As for soft tissue contusions and the like, in Pomfrey's eyes, they were not problems at all. A bottle of potion after they woke up would fix it.
When it was Clark's turn.
Madam Pomfrey checked carefully for a long time and finally concluded: 'Clark Cavill' is extremely healthy.
As soon as the result came out, the young wizards were all dumbfounded.
Clark smiled feigning relaxation: "See, I said the lawn absorbed most of the falling force, but you just wouldn't believe it."
Whether there is a problem with the lawn or with you, we have our own judgment in our hearts.
Regardless.
Clark's behavior had won the respect of all Gryffindor freshmen.
This fearless courage made them, also members of Gryffindor, feel incredibly honored!
...
The act of saving people was good.
But Clark still received punishment.
In Professor McGonagall's office, the Head of Gryffindor was furious. Not only did she deduct points from Harry and Clark, but she also forced them to write two full pages of parchment self-reflection, to be handed in on time next Monday.
Harry and Clark were dejected.
However, just as they were leaving the office, Professor McGonagall suddenly called Clark back and said expressionlessly: "Anyway, you saved two lives, forty points added."
The corner of Clark's mouth lifted: "Professor..."
"Alright, no need to say more." Professor McGonagall waved her hand, "Don't forget to hand in the self-reflection to me on Monday."
The joy on Clark's face vanished instantly, and he replied weakly with an 'Oh'.
Walking out of the office.
Clark and Harry beside him looked at each other and sighed in unison.
"Although I've said it many times before, I still want to say it again, Clark, thank you for saving me." Harry nodded seriously to Clark: "I will find a chance to repay you in the future."
"Sure, I won't be polite then." Clark didn't hypocritically say something like 'it's what I should do', but accepted Harry's kindness generously.
Harry felt relieved and soon started talking and laughing with Clark.
Unfortunately.
This relaxed atmosphere vanished when they met Snape at the corner of the stairs.
"Professor Snape."
"Good evening, Professor Snape."
Harry and Clark had to greet him.
Snape snorted coldly and said to Harry: "Five points deducted."
Harry: ???
Snape didn't want to explain anything at all, turned around, and said indifferently: "Mr. Cavill, follow me to my office."
Clark: ???
Although confused, Clark said goodbye to Harry and followed Snape.
All the way down to the bottom of the castle.
Clark walked into Snape's office.
The office was very gloomy, with shelves full of various specimens, jars, and some dried plants;
In the center of the room was a huge cauldron, with green flames burning fiercely, brewing some unknown potion.
"Don't look around, don't touch anything." Snape sat behind the desk and spoke coldly.
"Okay, Professor." Clark responded obediently.
A trace of satisfaction flashed in Snape's eyes, and then he talked about business: "The Occlumency class is at 8 p.m. on Saturday, don't be late."
"Okay, Professor." Clark remained obedient.
"Before the formal lesson, I need to conduct a series of tests on you, no problem, right?" Snape asked.
Clark scratched his head: "Can I ask what kind of test first?"
"Simply put, I will use Legilimency to invade your brain and perform simple manipulations on you to judge your mental resistance." Snape smiled sinisterly: "What, scared? Cavill, this doesn't look like your style. I heard you used yourself as a cushion today... saving two classmates? Really amazing."
Hearing this, Clark laughed foolishly.
Snape's face darkened, and he scolded: "What are you embarrassed about over there? I wasn't praising you."
Clark certainly heard Snape's sarcasm.
But if he didn't play dumb, was he supposed to retort to his face?
Doing that would make him an absolute fool.
Snape took a deep breath and said grumpily: "Alright, cut the crap, let's begin."
As his words fell, the old bat held his breath and focused, staring straight into Clark's eyes.
Clark only felt his head grow heavy.
Immediately, Snape's voice sounded in his ear:
"Resist! No matter what method, you must stick to your inner self! If you really can't resist, then think of nothing, lock your memories, don't leak a bit."
Clark listened.
Resist?
He didn't know how.
Think of nothing...
This he could do.
So—
Under Snape's gaze, Clark fell into an extremely relaxed state.
Not only did his standing posture change, but his expression also became subtle...
Specifically, his eyelids drooped, and his mouth opened slightly.
Seeing a trail of drool flowing from the corner of Clark's mouth, Snape couldn't help but fall silent.
Truth be told, Clark was quite talented.
Although emptying the mind looked a bit silly, it was quite effective.
However, as a master of Legilimency, Snape obviously had more than just this skill.
He snorted coldly and continued to penetrate deeper into Clark's mental world.
Clark grunted and held his head in pain.
"Hold on, don't relax your mind, fight against me." Snape said coldly: "Now, I am your enemy, defend your mental line to the death!"
In his daze, Clark caught the keyword.
Muttering 'enemy' constantly, he raised his head with difficulty, and two terrifying red lights lit up in his eyes.
Snape: ?!