Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

Hoffa almost got up earlier than ever on this day.

Flying is the dream of mankind. Becoming a wizard, Hoffa certainly has an ambition to travel through the clouds. Especially in 1938, at this time, airplanes were not as popular as later generations. If you can learn to ride a broomstick, you will not only go out a lot easier, but you will also have a life-saving trump card in the future. After all, the Muggle Air Force of this era is not as popular as later generations. The horror is accurate, and the war is mostly based on land.

In the dining hall in the morning, a group of calm Ravenclaws discussed Quidditch anecdotes with rare emotions.

The breakfast at Hogwarts is very hearty. Fried eggs, bread, vegetable or fruit salad, sausage or bacon, coffee, tea, milk, butter, jam and juice. There are other cereal porridges.

But Hoffa was thinking about flying lessons, for fear that he would fly too fast when he ate too much, so he ate very little, so he ate a sausage and a little porridge.

Some students from wizarding families boasted about their flying history.

William Carlson is another roommate of Hoffa’s dormitory. He was telling his friends about his family’s glorious flying history early in the morning. He also said that his father once evaded planes in World War I on a flying broomstick. The hunt and strafe.

Taylor Smith is a Muggle offspring in their dormitory, William brags on the side, and Taylor listens with gusto, and his eyes are full of admiration. For Muggles in this era, flying is basically a lifelong hopeless thing if you don't become the Royal Air Force.

The students on Ravenclaw's side were pretty good. At the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, the group of students gathered together in small groups and burst into laughter from time to time.

Most people laughing are boys. Quidditch in this era is still a boy's game, and girls rarely participate in it.

After breakfast, a group of people walked out of the auditorium. Came to a grass near the school Quidditch arena.

It was a sunny and breezy day, and the grass was slightly wavy under their feet. On the other side of the lawn is the forbidden forest, with dark trees swaying in the wind in the distance.

This class is with Slytherin's first-year students, Slytherin's students are already there, a row of broomsticks neatly arranged on the ground. Tom Riddle was talking and laughing with a few classmates, and he caught a glimpse of Hoffa, and he didn't say anything.

In fact, since the two of them came to school, the conflict seems to have disappeared. Become two irrelevant passers-by. There is neither hatred of the orphanage nor signs of recognition.

Hoffa knew Riddle's super ambitions, he was not a childish boy like Malfoy. It is impossible to spend energy on finding faults meaninglessly.

Soon after, their teacher came. Hoffa had heard from his roommate at breakfast. Quidditch's teacher is named Pario Leo. He was the batsman of the Irish team in the Quidditch World Cup in 1920. Their best performance that year reached the World Cup semi-finals, which is very remarkable.

Pario is a tall man with long arms, his brown hair is curly and he is full of vigor.

Seeing the new student, he whistled.

"Why are you still waiting, arrange them in rows!"

The crowd moved noisily.

Look at these 11-year-old children pushing and shoving, squeezing and squeezing around.

Pario intervened impatiently. The children were taken out, and the messes were placed in different positions.

Hoffa was standing with Miranda, but Pario pulled them away because Hoffa was half a head taller than Miranda. He was pushed by Pario to the other person's side.

That's right, it's Aglaia again.

They are similar in size.

Seeing Hoffa being pushed in, Aglaia snorted coldly.

The warm sunshine and gentle breeze made Hoffa very comfortable, but now, standing next to Aglaia, he feels uncomfortable.

Seeing that the students were photographed in an arithmetic sequence according to height, Teacher Pario seemed extremely satisfied.

He just whistled and said, "Extend your right hand, put it on top of the broomstick, and say, ‘get up!’"

"Get up!" everyone shouted.

Hoffa also stretched out his hand, "Get up!"

Nothing happened.

So he breathed harder.

"stand up!"

Still nothing happens.

He suddenly felt puzzled, what's going on?

He turned his head and looked at it. Someone's broom soon got up. For example, Tom Riddle standing across from Hoffa. As soon as he opened the broomstick, he obediently entered his palm.

His roommate William did not brag, and his broom bounced quickly into his palm.

Some children's broomsticks slowly fell on the ground and rolled around, looking very reluctant.

Take Miranda, for example, her broomstick seems a little hesitant, and then it comes up a little bit, and then it goes down again. But it was moving anyway.

But only his broomstick remained motionless.

Hoffa didn't give up, tried two more times, but it still didn't work.

"Muggle." There was a pleasant sarcasm next to him.

Hoffa saw Aglaia on the right smiling triumphantly, still holding her arms, motionless.

So Hoffa said to her the only thing in a week: "What you are proud of, yours didn't move."

"Is it...?" She stretched her tone, as if enjoying the moment extremely.

After speaking, Aglaia looked at him sarcastically, with one hand on his chest and one hand on top of the flying broomstick. Nothing was said.

The flying broom dashed into her hand, and Hoffa could almost feel the mood of which broom could not wait to be ridden by her.

Hoffa's eyes widened and looked at his broom again.

"stand up!"

The breeze blew over the tattered branches, and it didn't move. Like a dead salted fish.

Hoffa's face turned dark, and he raised his hand.

Pario noticed him: "What's the matter, kid?"

Hoffa: "Teacher, my broom is broken."

Everyone around looked over, Pario's eyes widened, and he stretched out his hand in the distance.

"stand up."

Hoffa's broom fell out of his body like a lightning, and went to Pario's hand.

Pario looked at it and said displeased: "What are you talking about, this broom is in great condition." After speaking, he threw the broom back to Hoffa.

Hoffa continued to stretch out his hand: "Get up."

It's dead again.

"Hahahahahahahaha~"

Aglaia laughed happily, and Hoffa's teeth tickled with hatred for that sweet look. She said:

"Flying Muggles, the land duck among wizards, are people who don’t have any talent for flying. Such people are rare in history, but you are undoubtedly one of them. In the UK and even in Europe, flying is an ancient and Elegant art, Quidditch is a sophisticated social sport. It represents the outstanding people in the crowd who have the ability to govern, and you..."

"Shut up! If you don't speak, no one will treat you as dumb."

Hoffa's face was sullen, and he stopped Aglaia. This time, he never wanted to maintain the apparent peace with Aglaia. His aversion to this girl reached its extreme.

He took out his wand directly and pointed it at the broomstick on the ground.

"Yugadim Leviosa!"

Under the effect of the Levitating Curse, Hoffa's broomstick soared up like a mangy dog, and Hoffa was held in his hand almost trembling in pain.

Hoffa sensed the reluctance of the broom, but he held it firmly.

Then, something unexpected happened to Hoffa.

Aglaia on the side raised his hand.

That's right, she raised her right hand high and said loudly: "Mr. Pario, Hoffa cheated, he cast a spell on the broom."

The noisy grass fell silent.

Everyone turned their heads and looked at Aglaia and Hoffa.

Hoffa was shocked, there is such an annoying person in the world, making a small report? This kind of thing is hated no matter in which world. The person next to him actually did it in such a stately manner.

If you don’t get attention and admiration, you have to respond to others. Is the earth revolving around you? Why on earth is she assigned to Ravenclaw?

Pario walked up to Hoffa displeasedly: "Did you really curse the broom?"

"Yes." Hoffa sighed.

"What spell?"

"Floating spell."

Hoffa said.

Pario took a deep breath, then exhaled.

"It is a major foul to cast a spell on the broom in a Quidditch match. Did you know?"

"I don't know." Hoffa said blankly.

"I don't deduct your points if you miss your first offense. You don't need to take this class anymore. Go and watch." Pario said regretfully.

Hoffa threw the broom away, put away his wand and strode aside. Hold your arms and don't speak. He was so angry that he couldn't speak.

Once again, the changeable life was beyond Hoffa's expectations. He was not Harry Potter, and he had no talent for flying. There is no Quidditch talent, and he doesn't even know the rules of Quidditch.

On the grass, Pario whistled. Demonstrate how to ride a broomstick with students.

Students rose from the ground one after another, and some were awkwardly riding on broomsticks. Someone was flying around quickly and sickly. Aglaia is the best one in the crowd. She doesn't even use her hands to support the handle of the flying broomstick. She crosses her arms, as if she can make the broom go wherever she wants with her mind.

White clouds in the distant sky. Hoffa leaned against a tall tower with a dog's tail grass in his mouth. He looked at the crowd flying above his head, and for the first time felt that he was incompatible with this land.

Aglaia makes sense. In the wizarding world, Quidditch is indeed a game that can only be played with talent. Just like those sailing races at the Ivy League University in the United States in the past, they are not in the upper class, and they may not take you to play.

Ask yourself, Hoffa knew why the broom just ignored him, because he didn't want to participate in Quidditch, he just wanted to fly.

The Quidditch rules were stupid to him.

Especially if you catch the Golden Snitch, you will directly rewrite the rules of the game. There is no reason at all, completely personal heroism.

In comparison, he prefers Muggle football. Everyone is important.

At this moment, he thought of a lot of things, thinking of Hermione's quarrel with Trelawney, a divination teacher, in his previous life. Trelawney thought that Hermione had no talent for divination, so she denied her efforts. But the fact is that sensibility and rationality cannot be combined. Hermione will never be a fortune-teller, and Hoffa can hardly become a Quidditch master.

After all, there are few talented people in the world, especially sports.

In the previous life, I was half embarrassed in sports. I could only watch other people play. I didn't expect to come to the wizarding world, and I still did this.

If you can have a little talent in Transfiguration, that's enough. Why be greedy. There are many ways to fly, and you don’t have to hang on a tree. The most important thing is to learn and develop honestly.

Only those who survived future wars are qualified to pursue their own happiness in life. It is meaningless to fight for honor and disgrace to be the king of children among a group of 11-year-old students.

Thinking of this, Hoffa calmed down. He spit out dog's tail grass and left the playground with his hands indifferently.

In the sky, Aglaia has been flying, but her eyes are always fixed on Hoffa who is sitting in the corner.

The feeling of hitting Hoffa made her feel very good. Since meeting this person, she has been crippled. Especially when she guessed the identity of the other party on the train, she felt ashamed that she had gone to grandma's house.

Today she has found her place.

But seeing Hoffa left so calmly, Aglaia felt like he had hit the cotton with a punch.