A sharp Hogwarts

"What bad luck," Harry said a little frustrated. "As expected, he made a fool of himself in front of Malfoy while riding a broomstick."

Perhaps due to some unknown throbbing, Harry had always been looking forward to learning to fly. This desire was stronger than anything else.

However, when he thought that he would be groping in front of Malfoy, he suddenly flinched.

Malfoy talked about flying all day long - long before the flying lessons were arranged - and during their first encounter in Diagon Alley Malfoy talked about Quidditch.

Children from wizarding families seem to be born with this magical word that Harry has not yet understood. Malfoy often complains loudly that freshmen are not eligible to participate in the college Quidditch team, and takes the trouble to tell many long, boastful stories. It always ended with him narrowly escaping a Muggle helicopter.

"It's not certain you're going to make a fool of yourself," Ron said rationally. "Malfoy always brags, but I bet he's just talking big."

"Maybe talent exists, but it's just like riding a bicycle-"

Dean Thomas was obviously not as optimistic as Ron. After the flying lesson notice was posted, he seemed very anxious.

"If you haven't learned it, you don't know it. There is no one who knows it from birth. The first time I rode a bicycle, I broke both knees - I didn't even leave the garage."

"Grandma never let me touch the broomstick...she was afraid that I would accidentally break my neck, but that's a good thing."

Neville muttered in a low voice. He glanced at Ron and said, "I mean, compared to flying in the sky, I prefer the stability of standing on the ground."

Harry was no less worried than Thomas, especially when Neville joined the conversation.

In fact, he hadn't even learned how to ride a bicycle: Dudley wouldn't let Harry lay a finger on his precious bicycle.

Everyone from a wizarding family chattered endlessly about Quidditch, Seamus Finnigan seemed to have spent much of his childhood flying around the wilderness on a broomstick, and Ron had spent time riding Charlie's old Broomstick, almost colliding with a hang glider... Harry began to become a little pessimistic, because he found that he didn't even understand Quidditch. He heard that it seemed to be a kind of aerial football. Movement, but no one would sit down patiently and explain it to him.

It wasn't just the boys, Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was.

You can't read and remember this skill from books, and you can't practice it in private like knife skills - freshmen are not allowed to carry broomsticks.

Of course, Hermione still tried the former method. During breakfast on Thursday morning, she kept reciting to them some flying instructions she had read from a library book called "The Origins of Quidditch". Like an impatient mother goose, Neville eagerly hoped to hear some useful knowledge.

But others were delighted when Hermione's speech was interrupted by the arrival of the owl messenger.

And Harry finally found a gap to ask Dalia about her feelings.

"Flying lessons? I don't feel anything special—"

Dalia replied casually while smearing butter, as calmly as a senior student.

"Anyway, it's not just broomsticks that can fly. I have stinky tofu. The speed of an adult Thestral is faster than all current flying broomsticks."

"Besides, it can navigate automatically and is comfortable to sit on... I really can't imagine the point of trying to learn to fly - there is a phantom flight class in the senior year."

"Oh, yes. Dalia, you have the Thestral." Neville glanced at the purple-black Pegasus lying at her feet, feeling a little envious.

Hermione next to her raised her eyebrows, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she said nothing.

She grabbed the bread dully, took a big bite, and continued to watch "Quidditch Origins".

"Then flying lessons -" Harry blinked and asked subconsciously.

"Just fool around, fly if you can, fly if you can't - anyway, there are no credits in this class, and there is no final exam."

Dalia replied without thinking, without even raising her head, "Dumbledore's alternative plan for traveling is also the Thestral, why should I choose a broom."

"..."

Under Dalia's impeccable logic, Harry collapsed in silence.

Since he couldn't see it, Harry would often inadvertently forget that Dahlia also had a rare Pegasus that could fly.

But Harry had a feeling that even if he had a Thestral as a pet, he would still be very eager to fly a broomstick.

goo—

Just then, an owl landed next to Neville and dropped a medium-sized package.

Neville opened it excitedly, and first there was a glass ball as big as a baby's fist, filled with white smoke.

"It's a memory ball!" he explained. "Grandma knows I always have a bad memory - it tells you if there's something you've forgotten. See, you hold it tight, like this, and if he changes It's red - oh..." He suddenly made a long face, because the memory ball suddenly turned red and bright, "...you just forgot something..."

"The only problem is, I can't remember exactly what I forgot." Neville sighed helplessly.

Neville struggled to remember what he had forgotten.

But before he could think of it, Dalia's voice suddenly floated over.

"You forgot to wear the wizard's robes outside -"

"Eh?!" Neville was stunned and looked around, only to realize that he was only wearing a knitted sweater.

The red color on the memory ball also quickly dissipated, and in less than two or three seconds, it turned into a slowly rotating white smoke again.

"Wow -" Dean Thomas exclaimed enviously.

He leaned over, took a look inside Neville's package, and asked excitedly.

"There's something else in there, Neville - look what it is? Does it look like a sailor's diary?"

"Oh, this-"

Neville took out two old-looking cowhide-bound booklets from the package.

There was also a letter attached to the side of the booklet. He tore the seal open and took a look, then handed the booklet and the book to Dalia who was sitting next to him.

"This is for you, Dalia—grandma gave it to you."

Neville looked at the confused Dalia, scratched his cheek, and explained in a low voice.

"Some time ago, when I wrote to grandma, I mentioned the trouble you encountered. I thought grandma might have a way-"

"Ok?"

Dalia subconsciously took the letter and shook it open.

As Neville said, this letter was really addressed to her.

Old Lady Longbottom asked Neville to read the letter and then hand it over to her directly - the two brochures were also for her.

In other words, those two books..."Longbottom Family Private Cookbook".