The grassy courtyard by the broom sheds buzzed with excitement as the first-year students from all four Houses gathered for their first flying lesson. The brooms lay neatly in two rows on the ground, and the air was filled with the scent of sun-warmed bristles, nervous sweat, and budding ambition.
Madam Hooch strode into view like a storm on legs, short and wiry with sharp eyes that missed nothing.
"Everyone to a broomstick! Right hand over it and say 'Up!'"
"UP!" came the chorus.
Hadrian's broom obediently jumped into his hand. Iris's wobbled uncertainly before launching upward, while Dora's leapt so enthusiastically it nearly smacked her in the nose.
Neville's didn't budge.
Not right away.
And when it finally did, it rocketed into his face with such force that he reeled back, already wobbly.
Hadrian frowned.
They hadn't even left the ground yet.
Moments later, when Madam Hooch instructed everyone to mount and push off—"Just hover for a few seconds and come back down, that's all!"—Neville wobbled, then shot upward like a stray firework.
"NEVILLE!" Iris gasped.
The poor boy flailed wildly, spinning and tilting higher. The broom twisted sharply, then dumped him unceremoniously ten feet down to the ground with a sickening thud.
Gasps followed.
Hadrian was already moving.
Madam Hooch dashed over to the fallen boy, tutting and examining his twisted wrist. "Off to the hospital wing with you! Broken, poor lad..."
As she began escorting Neville away, a glint in the grass caught Hadrian's eye.
The Rememberall.
Draco Malfoy had already started strutting toward it with a smug grin.
"Look what Longbottom dropped," he drawled, bending to scoop it up.
Hadrian was quicker.
He snatched it up in one fluid motion, slipping it into his robes with a calm smile and friendly nod. "I'll return this to him."
Malfoy blinked, clearly not used to being one-upped so politely.
"I'm sure he'll be glad someone decent handled it," Hadrian added, tone cool.
Madam Hooch, from several feet away, paused. "Hadrian, dear, can you take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing with me? The lesson will continue after."
"Of course, Professor," Hadrian replied smoothly.
He cast one look back at Dora and Iris. Iris gave him a small smile, and Dora mock-saluted. He winked in return before jogging to catch up with Madam Hooch and Neville.
At the Hospital Wing
Neville sniffled quietly but tried to be brave. "Thanks, Hadrian. For the Rememberall, I mean."
"No trouble," Hadrian replied, placing it beside the bed. "If anything, I'm glad I was there to help."
Madam Pomfrey bustled over with a bottle of Skele-Gro, grumbling about first-years and broken bones.
Hadrian waited until she was busy fussing before leaning in. "Next time, stick with me during the lesson. We'll figure it out together."
Neville looked stunned. Then he smiled. "Really?"
Hadrian smiled back. "Of course. You're not alone at Hogwarts, Neville."
Meanwhile, Back on the Field
Dora and Iris stood side by side, watching the lesson resume.
"Think Malfoy's ego just took its first bruise?" Iris asked lightly.
"Oh, absolutely," Dora said with a smirk. "Hadrian didn't even insult him. Just stole his thunder."
They both grinned.
It was only the beginning of their first year at Hogwarts—but it was already clear:
They'd look after their own.