This Herbology class was one of the few this year shared by Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. While this might change next year, it was the most convenient opportunity for Maca to get closer to Harry and his friends.
Speaking of Harry, the Boy Who Lived was currently struggling with the Flobberworms on the stems! Yes, that's right, the very same ones that the rather unremarkable Michael Corner had swallowed as a child. They especially liked lettuce, but they generally ate anything that was a plant.
Maca was pondering these very worms when Ron squeezed over to ask about how he'd handled Snape in Potions class. These things were a whole ten inches long, not much shorter than Maca's wand. Heaven knows how Michael had managed to swallow one as a child!
Did he bite it in half first? Maca shuddered at the thought.
"...What are you talking about, biting things in half? Are you thinking about lunch?" Ron asked, puzzled, then continued, "Never mind lunch! Tell me quickly! How did you provoke Snape? We have his class tomorrow, and I've heard from older students that he always favors his own house, I don't know if it's true."
Maca came back to his senses and shook his head helplessly.
"Who told you I provoked Professor Snape? That would be suicidal." He briefly explained the situation, which also drew Hermione over.
"Hey! I say, did Professor Snape really say that?" Hermione said, a little agitated. "That's Arsenius Jigger's pharmacology formula, it's authoritative! How could he just casually say that it's a mistake!"
Immediately, Hermione calmed down, then looked at Maca apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with questioning authority, but…" she hesitated, a little doubtful. "I mean, is that quantitative constant really an unnecessary constant?"
"It should be correct." Maca nodded, then explained to Hermione in a low voice. Hermione interjected a few sentences while listening, but seemed to be somewhat convinced.
"What are they talking about?" Ron turned his head and asked Harry.
"Probably about the Potions class." Harry had already finished fiddling around, and a Flobberworm was wriggling and struggling in his gloved right hand, but it couldn't escape the evil claws that were hindering its meal.
"So, we also have to learn those… I mean, the content they're talking about?" Ron hesitated and leaned over to listen for a few more sentences, then turned back to look at Harry.
Harry shook his head, he just knew he couldn't understand it at all, "Probably… not, right?"
Ron glanced again at Maca and Hermione, who were whispering to each other, and then gave up, continuing to fertilize the herbs.
"Maca, always clean and tidy, and Hermione, always a mess. That's an unusual combination," he muttered, perplexed.
"And then, the Maca who always lazed in bed, turns out to be a good student."
Before school started, Maca had stayed at the Burrow for quite a while. Ron considered himself to be quite familiar with him. Although he seemed smart and calm, he was essentially lazy and prone to oversleeping! But it seemed that wasn't the case at all. He had even thought he'd found a good friend who was similar to him!
"...Maybe I can ask him for help with homework I can't figure out later?" Ron suddenly had this thought, and he thought it was a great idea.
Following the Herbology practical lesson was the highly anticipated flying class, which Maca and his classmates would have with Ravenclaw.
Maca was naturally also looking forward to this class, which would allow him to fly freely in the air, but he wasn't sure if he would encounter any difficulties. To be honest, he wasn't very good with directions even on the ground. If he flew up in the sky, would he really not be able to tell which way was which?
The first flying class was held next to the main gate of Hogwarts Castle. There was a slightly sunken, flat field there, and the green grass on the ground swayed gently with the breeze, looking full of life.
Looking east, one could see the edge of a dark forest, its tall canopy swaying in the wind and rustling.
The little Hufflepuff badgers were already on the field, watching the Ravenclaw students slowly making their way over. Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, was urging them to hurry.
"Alright, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand beside a broomstick. Quickly, quickly, let's get on with it."
Madam Hooch's short, gray hair stood up like steel needles, unmoved by the wind. Her two yellow eyes looked like those of an eagle strictly supervising its young.
Maca chose a broom from those neatly lined up on the ground that looked appealing and stood quietly beside it, watching the other students hastily find their positions.
"Hold out your right hand over the broom handle," Madam Hooch called out from the front. "Then say, 'Up!'"
"Up!" Influenced by Madam Hooch's stern tone, everyone seemed to be affected, and even their shouts were unusually uniform.
The broom obediently jumped into Maca's hand. He savored this strange and novel sensation, feeling that it seemed quite good.
But other students weren't having such an easy time. Some brooms just hopped a little on the spot, while others rolled on the ground. Ernie's broom even shot straight into the air, leaving his palm red.
It seemed this thing had something to do with talent, because only a few people managed to get the broom to land properly in their hands.
Next, Madam Hooch demonstrated how to mount a broom without sliding off. She walked up and down the rows, correcting the students' grip and occasionally criticizing those who weren't doing well.
"Alright, when I blow my whistle, you kick off the ground with both legs and take off. Kick hard," Madam Hooch said. "Hold your broom steady, rise a few feet, then lean forward slightly and come straight back down. Listen for my whistle—three—two—"
"Oh—!" Maca exclaimed, watching the ground recede beneath him. This feeling was unprecedentedly fun.
Madam Hooch walked back and forth, observing everyone. Of course, quite a few people couldn't fly at all; the brooms didn't seem to listen to them. But nothing out of the ordinary happened.
"Mr. Maclean, you've gone higher than I said!" Madam Hooch shouted at Maca. "Come down, be careful!"
Maca was taken aback, realizing he had indeed flown higher than the others. He immediately leaned forward slightly as Madam Hooch had instructed, and the broom promptly and obediently began to descend.
"Well done," Madam Hooch patted Maca on the shoulder. "The most important thing for beginners is safety. Taking things step by step is the best approach."
Maca nodded, but in his heart, he was thinking, Next week, you'll see Neville and Harry soaring! Of course, the former will be literally, like, whoosh—
"Madam Hooch, I was wondering, what should we do to help if a beginner accidentally falls off their broom?" Thinking of this, Maca suddenly changed his mind and asked.
He felt a little sympathetic towards Neville, that always-nervous, chubby boy, and thought that if Madam Hooch was a bit prepared, maybe his arm wouldn't break.
It must have hurt a lot; otherwise, Maca wouldn't still remember the scene so vividly.
"You can use the Levitation Charm, don't worry," Madam Hooch replied, thinking Maca was worried about getting hurt himself. "If you can't react in time, Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing will heal them. Her potions are always very effective."
"Oh! Thank you for your answer." Maca pretended to be relieved and politely expressed his gratitude.
Of course, this was just a small interlude in his school life. For Maca, it was just something he did on the side, and he forgot about it in a blink.
"Haa—! This feels amazing!"
With Madam Hooch's permission, Maca got a chance to fly low. He'd spent a good deal of effort to get this opportunity, and he was loving it!
The strong wind rushed at him, whistling past his ears and making his robes flutter. Under Maca's control, the broomstick darted left and right, looking like a shark charging through the water.
Although, this shark was a little too close to the "seabed."
"Watch out—! Slow down! Slow down! Quickly, do as I say—!" Madam Hooch shouted from below, but Maca could only hear the wind, so he couldn't hear her.
After a while, when he'd had his fill, Maca finally slowed down. He yanked the broomstick around, turning in mid-air and drawing a beautiful arc.
Before he landed, Maca realized that Madam Hooch's expression was off. He immediately understood what the problem was – he seemed to have gone too fast in the second half of the trial flight.
Even though these broomsticks were cheap ones for practice, some of them seemed to have various minor issues, but they were still legitimate products, not children's toys.
"I'm sorry, Madam Hooch," Maca said immediately, bowing his head after landing. "I got a little carried away. I didn't expect the feeling of flying to be so amazing, and I wasn't paying attention for a moment."
Madam Hooch stared at Maca for a moment, then sighed. "I just told you to take it step by step… However, you flew well. After you study Quidditch Through the Ages, perhaps I can let you fly a few more times."
"…I believe you will find that falling in love with Quidditch is such a correct choice!"
That was Madam Hooch: strict, fair, and responsible in her treatment of everyone and everything. And most importantly – she genuinely loved the sport of Quidditch.
....
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