HP: The Right Way To Use Fantastic Beasts

The Care of Magical Creatures class drew to a close under a cloud of astonishing enthusiasm. Evans's earlier demonstration had worked perfectly; the third years were now completely dedicated to the task of making their Puffskeins happy.

Professor McGonagall, who had transformed into a tabby cat, had run off to sunbathe after a single, sharp warning to keep the noise down. This, Evans decided, was a good sign. It meant she found his lesson plan acceptable. Otherwise, he was sure he would have received more than just a quiet admonishment.

"Professor Evans!"

A girl holding a Puffskein ran toward him, her companion close behind. As they approached, Evans felt a faint sense of peace wash over him. He was a little surprised; although he had set a challenging goal, he hadn't expected a student to succeed so quickly.

"Very good, Miss Demi," he said with a slight smile. "Hufflepuff gets three points."

Watching the excited expressions on the girls' faces, he felt a quiet satisfaction. Though the class name had changed half a century ago, many wizards still saw magical creatures as little more than potion ingredients and wand cores. If he could cultivate a few more students who genuinely loved these beautiful, mysterious beings, his time as a professor would not be in vain. It was one of the reasons he had returned to Hogwarts.

As he was contemplating this, a few sharp gasps rippled through the students. He followed their gaze and squinted.

On the flying lesson grounds nearby, a slightly chubby boy was struggling to control a broomstick that was ascending higher and higher. His face was a mask of panic. The old broom simply wouldn't obey him.

Ten feet… twenty feet… Finally, the boy could no longer hold on. He let go, and his body plummeted like a kite with a broken string. The students witnessing it couldn't help but feel a tightening in their chests. A fall from that height would mean more than just a few scrapes.

Neville, suspended in the air, thought the same thing. The wind roared past his ears, the ground rushed up to meet him, and he shut his eyes in terror, his heart leaping into his throat.

Just then, a voice sounded in his ear.

"Thinking of saving school property in such a dangerous situation. Very brave."

The next second, Neville felt his downward momentum stop completely. He was gently placed on the ground.

The third years stared, their eyes wide. They had seen it with their own eyes: just as Neville was about to hit the ground, a silver light had exploded beside him, and a figure had appeared, grabbing Neville's collar. At the same time, a small sphere had been thrown toward the errant broomstick. A chain shot out from the sphere, ensnaring the broom and bringing it back to the ground.

But that person had been sitting with them just seconds ago, explaining the preferences of Puffskeins!

Placing the pale-faced boy on the ground, Evans caught the broomstick and scratched the top of the small sphere.

"Thanks, Carl."

Seemingly enjoying the attention, the sphere vibrated contentedly and jumped back onto Evans's wrist. Only then did Madam Hooch jog over.

She looked the pale-faced boy up and down a few times, and after confirming he was uninjured, she breathed a sigh of relief and put on a stern expression.

"After you realized you couldn't control the broomstick, why didn't you let go and jump down quickly, instead of waiting until you were so high?"

"I… I'm sorry, Madam. I didn't react in time," Neville stammered.

"…Never mind. Go back to your group."

Neville bowed gratefully to Evans and then jogged back to the other first years. His face was still pale.

Watching him go, Madam Hooch averted her gaze.

"Thanks to you, Evans."

"It was nothing."

Evans waved his hand indifferently and handed the broomstick back to Madam Hooch. He glanced at the boy, whose legs were still trembling, struggling to stand.

"I've always thought that broomsticks are terrifying things," he said. "Is it really not dangerous for such young wizards to learn this?"

In the Muggle world, children had to wait until they were adults to get a driver's license. Here, an eleven-year-old could learn to fly a vehicle that went up and down as fast as a bird. If he hadn't caught the boy, he would have broken an arm or a leg at the very least. Such injuries weren't a major problem for the school hospital, but still.

This tradition hasn't caused any major incidents until now. Could it be that wizards' bodies are just more durable?

"You can't expect all young wizards to be like you," Madam Hooch said, spreading her hands helplessly. "Broomsticks are one of the key tools for young wizards to master their magic. They are the only tool besides wands that they can use to channel their spirit at a young age."

"I don't know what psychological trauma you have that prevents you from learning to use a broomstick even now, but if young wizards don't learn this at a young age, it will have a significant impact on their future."

"And… what happened today was indeed an accident." She looked at the dilapidated broomstick; the circuits on it seemed to have some problems.

"Exercising magic and spirit?"

Nodding thoughtfully, Evans roughly understood the purpose of the class. Without further discussion, Madam Hooch glanced at the group of third years rushing towards him.

"Are you dismissed?"

"Almost. I can dismiss them after I assign the homework."

"Then I won't disturb you. Come to Hogsmeade when you have time; I'll buy you a drink."

"I look forward to it."

Smiling at Madam Hooch, Evans turned to greet the young wizards walking toward him with their Puffskeins. For some reason, their eyes seemed a little brighter than before.

Madam Hooch returned to the first years, examining the broomstick carefully. This Shooting Star had indeed been in service for a long time; the surface circuits were worn. This kind of defect wasn't a problem for skilled flyers, but for a beginner, the wear would weaken their control, or even, like just now, make them lose it completely.

She took a deep look at Neville, who was still trembling, and shook her head slightly.

"I'm going to get you a new broomstick. None of you are allowed to move!"

With that, she left the grounds and walked towards the castle.

It wasn't until Madam Hooch was out of sight that the students came back to their senses and began discussing what had just happened.

"Professor Kahn just appeared next to Neville in a flash! What kind of magic was that?"

"It sounds like Apparition, doesn't it? I heard my mom say that Apparition is a magic that allows a wizard to instantly move to another location!"

"No! Apparition makes a loud cracking sound when you land! It's very loud, I've heard it with my own ears!"

"By the way, what was that little ball Professor Kahn threw out? It actually caught the broomstick!" Ron excitedly joined the discussion.

"That's a container," Hermione's voice sounded from the side. "Professor Kahn told me that it contains a magical creature that hates sunlight, and it's one of his good friends."

Listening to the discussions around him, Neville gradually recovered from his fear. The terror of falling faded, replaced by a sense of regret that he hadn't properly thanked Professor Kahn. He needed to remember to do so later.

He subconsciously reached into his pocket, but after fumbling for a moment, his expression became flustered again.

"Where's my Remembrall?"

(End of Chapter)

***

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