Just as the Black family motto is "Always Pure," the Malfoy family motto is "Always Flexible."
Always flexible, always infamous.
The moment Harry drew his wand, Draco turned pale.
He quickly spun his broomstick and took off.
To avoid Harry's magic, he even swerved left and right in the air, trying desperately to escape.
Unfortunately, Harry lowered his wand; he was not a Master of Legilimency.
Even a Legilimency Master needs to be relaxed and able to look directly into the target's eyes to achieve the full effect, which incidentally stirs emotions and awakens relevant memories.
Draco, feeling that wasn't safe enough, threw Neville's memory orb into the air.
But he forgot that the flying brooms used in Hogwarts' Flying lessons were far too old to withstand his recklessness.
The result: the broom spiraled out of control, and Draco suffered the same fate as Neville.
"Aaaaaah—Help! Help!" Draco screamed from above.
But screaming didn't save him. Another violent jolt of the broom sent Draco flying like a kite with a snapped string.
On one side was Neville's memory orb, on the other, Draco.
Harry made an almost instantaneous decision—whom to save first—while also feeling the need to teach that brat a lesson.
"Accio!" Harry aimed at Draco again, the magic tugging at his robes and lifting him from the broom.
The Summoning Charm doesn't work on people, but duel-wand companions had developed a trick to make it work on someone's clothing, effectively lifting them as well.
"Wow—" the students below gasped in amazement.
"Boo... Boot?" Draco trembled.
"You'll pay for this, Malfoy," Harry said, grabbing Draco with one hand while maneuvering the broom to catch the falling memory orb.
Despite wearing glasses, Harry's vision was excellent, and he immediately locked onto the memory orb plummeting toward the ground.
He twisted the broom and dove toward the orb.
Draco, thinking Harry would drag him along, panicked.
"Please, Pott—don't! I'll do anything—"
But Harry remained unshaken. Under Draco's horrified gaze, they approached the ground rapidly.
"Ah—!" Draco shrieked in a high-pitched, almost soprano-like scream.
Just before impact, Harry halted the broom, simultaneously catching Neville's memory orb with his free hand.
The Gryffindor students cheered, rushing forward to surround Harry.
"Man, that was amazing!" Ron exclaimed, genuinely impressed.
He loved Quidditch, but he swore even the English national team players couldn't have flown better than Harry.
Harry smiled at his friends and released Draco, who crashed onto the ground with a dull thud.
"I... I'm going to tell my father!" Draco cried, tears and snot streaking his face.
"Ah, shut up, Draco," Harry said disdainfully. "You're not just dramatic—you're a spoiled brat too."
"You... just you wait!" Draco retorted.
"Wait for what?" Ron swept his broom near Draco. "You gonna wipe your tears and snot on us?"
Draco felt humiliated by Ron's words, the one person he had always looked down upon.
He shot a resentful glare at Ron and began lunging at the Weasleys.
"I think your mouth could use a proper cleaning," Harry said coldly, pointing his wand at Draco. "Escorrificar!"
A heap of pink soap bubbles immediately appeared in Draco's mouth. He tried to vomit but couldn't.
"Mr. Potter?"
Professor McGonagall's voice came from afar. The students automatically stepped aside, revealing Harry and his friends in the middle.
"What are you doing?" Professor McGonagall's expression immediately turned serious as she cast a Dispelling Charm on Draco.
"It's nothing, Professor," Harry said. "Malfoy's broom went out of control, and when I rescued him, he swallowed some dirt, so I was just trying to clean him—"
"You should be grateful Professor Snape didn't see this," Professor McGonagall said coolly, then seemed to remember something. "Come with me, Mr. Potter."
Harry shrugged and followed her. He agreed that the Slytherin Head's protector didn't need to see this kind of thing.
After Harry left, Draco finally dared a smug smile.
"See? Potter's going to get expelled," Draco said triumphantly. "Who's next?"
"I hope you have the courage to say that to Harry's face instead of bragging behind his back," Hermione said with disdain.
"You filthy blood-traitor—" Draco spun furiously toward Hermione, but before he could finish, pink soap bubbles filled his mouth again.
"This charm is really useful; it can wash out a stinking mouth," Hermione said, lowering her wand with a frosty tone.
She could have stopped Draco from speaking, but she waited for him to say the word first.
Seeing Draco hit by the spell, Pansy drew her wand, ready to retaliate against Hermione.
Fortunately, Madam Hooch returned in time, preventing a possible duel between the two houses.
Harry, of course, had no idea what was happening. He followed Professor McGonagall toward the castle, still wondering what she had planned.
Expulsion was out of the question; Harry was certain he had not broken any major school rules and had even rescued a student.
Soon, Professor McGonagall stopped at a classroom door.
"Excuse me, Philius," she said. "Could you please let Wood out for a moment?"
Wood?
Harry wondered, intrigued. Was Professor McGonagall going to punish him with a wooden rod?
He knew corporal punishment existed at Hogwarts a century ago; he himself had been severely beaten with a cane by a teacher for failing to do his homework.
Then he saw a tall, handsome boy leave the room, looking confused.
"Wood," said Professor McGonagall, her stern expression instantly softening, "I found a Seeker for you!"
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