Several days earlier, an announcement for Flying Class on Thursday had been posted in the Gryffindor common room.
Flying quickly became a popular topic among the new students. Since the notice appeared, words like flying and broom could be heard almost daily.
Yet, among Gryffindor's first-years, the announcement caused little stir.
Everyone already knew that Fred, George, and Angelina, as team reserves, trained regularly with the official Quidditch players, preparing to compete for selection as full team members next year.
Albert and Lee Jordan occasionally joined training as well; both were competent fliers. Alicia, raised in a wizarding family, had grown up around brooms and was far less excited than others.
As a result, Gryffindor's reaction was muted compared to other houses.
Only one student stood out: Sanna, who came from a Muggle family and had never touched a broom. She was easily the most nervous of the Gryffindor first-years.
To prepare, she borrowed Quidditch Through the Ages from the library, hoping to teach herself some techniques.
Unfortunately, books alone couldn't help her grasp the skill of flying.
"Don't worry, riding a broom isn't as hard as you think. Have you ever ridden a bicycle?" Albert asked kindly. He understood her nerves—just as people are anxious the first time they fly on an airplane, the first time on a broom was bound to be daunting.
The real issue was her lack of confidence. Confidence mattered more than anything.
Albert's own confidence came from his system panel; he knew he couldn't fail. He tried boldly, and if all else failed, he could simply add points from his stored experience pool. That was his secret source of assurance.
"I have," Sanna replied, taking a deep breath.
"Flying is like riding a bicycle," Albert reassured her. "Someone will teach you at first, and after a few tries, you'll get it."
"Really?" she asked, doubtful.
"Really," Albert nodded. "You just need more confidence in yourself."
Lee Jordan, standing nearby, looked exasperated. He had never ridden a bicycle himself, but he could swear Albert was misleading Sanna again.
It was true Albert was capable—but Sanna wasn't Albert.
That afternoon, minutes before Flying Class, the Gryffindor students hurried to the training grounds. Their class was held jointly with Slytherin.
"Why aren't we on the Quidditch Pitch?" Fred grumbled. Their lesson was on a flat lawn outside the castle.
"Who knows," Lee Jordan shrugged. "Doesn't matter where."
"Hurry, don't be late!" Angelina urged, eager for their first official lesson.
"Relax, we've got five minutes," Albert said calmly, glancing at the lawn ahead.
The Slytherins were already there, helping Madam Hooch arrange the brooms.
Madam Hooch was a sharp-featured woman with short hair and a hooked nose. Her piercing, eagle-like eyes gave the impression she might swoop down on prey at any moment.
The lesson was nearly identical to what Charlie had once taught them.
First, they had to make the broom jump into their hand. Most Gryffindors succeeded after a few tries. Only Sanna struggled—her broom refused to budge. Finally, she bent down and picked it up, drawing laughter.
Madam Hooch shook her head almost imperceptibly.
"Don't worry, only a few manage it easily," Angelina whispered, motioning for Sanna to notice the Slytherins opposite. Many of those who had laughed at her were still struggling themselves.
Next came mounting the broom and learning the proper grip. Madam Hooch paced among them, correcting mistakes. She was impressed by Gryffindor's skill and awarded them five points, which greatly displeased the reprimanded Slytherins.
Then it was time to lift off.
Sanna's broom trembled beneath her, though it was hard to tell whether it was the broom or Sanna herself shaking.
After the basics, Madam Hooch allowed the best riders to practice freely. With her keen eye, she quickly spotted Albert and several others who had already mastered the skill.
Fred, delighted by the Slytherins' struggles, rose into the air after George and began flying playfully.
Albert shook his head. He knew Fred was deliberately provoking their rivals.
On Gryffindor's side, except for Sanna, most were already airborne. The Slytherins, however, lagged far behind.
"In fact, some of us don't need Flying Class at all," George said as he and Fred performed a cross-spiral maneuver, earning applause.
"Good flying," Lee Jordan praised. He trained far less than the twins, and when he did join Albert, it was mostly for fun—flying, playing ball, enjoying the air.
"But the Slytherins aren't good enough!" Lee Jordan added loudly as he landed right in front of them, instantly drawing glares from the little snakes.
"Wasn't I right?" he smirked.
"It only proves we're far superior in this," Albert said coolly, adding another jab.
"Go, Warrington! Beat the Weasley twins!"
In the sky, a Slytherin named Warrington gave chase, spurred on by his housemates. It became a race—who could fly faster, steadier?
But compared to the twins, who trained constantly, Warrington was a step behind. He suffered a miserable defeat.
All three were scolded by Madam Hooch afterward, but Fred and George didn't care. Winning against Warrington mattered more.
"We won!" Fred announced happily.
"Wasn't that obvious?" Albert said dryly. From the start, losing had never been an option.
Yet when the Slytherins heard his words, they stung. Normal? Did he mean it was normal for Slytherins to lose?
Their anger flared. They wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug Gryffindor grin away.