Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

Before the start of the Flying class, Wentworth had been worried that his experience driving cars in his previous life might make adapting to a broomstick challenging.

But the moment he mounted the broomstick, he realized his concerns were unnecessary!

It turned out that using a flying broomstick was far simpler than navigating the second part of a driving test—and it was automatic!

While some first-year students struggled with the broomsticks, possibly due to a fear of heights or other reasons, Wentworth found the lack of brakes, accelerators, and clutches surprisingly freeing.

In no time, he was flying comfortably, soaring freely in the sky. If one overlooked the occasional tremors of the broomstick beneath him, his flying skills betrayed no trace of a beginner.

This scene astonished his classmates. Most first-years were still stuck hovering slightly above the ground, but Wentworth was already drawing S-shapes and B-shapes in the air.

The only person who could match Wentworth's altitude was Cassandra from Slytherin, whose speed was no less impressive than his.

However, it didn't escape some students' notice that Cassandra's broomstick had a pink bow tied to it, indicating it wasn't one of the old, school-provided brooms from Madam Hooch.

Before long, all eyes were glued to the sky as Wentworth and Cassandra engaged in what appeared to be a duel, darting back and forth above their heads.

Cassandra seemed intent on challenging Wentworth, trailing him wherever he flew. Every time he tried to shake her off, she would catch up again in no time.

But Wentworth, with the soul of an adult, wasn't interested in engaging with Cassandra for long.

Deciding enough was enough, Wentworth sharply turned his broom and attempted to fly in the opposite direction.

Yet Cassandra seemed unwilling to let him go so easily. She arced through the air in a semi-circle, clearly trying to block his path.

Down below, the first-year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs gasped, realizing that the two were on a collision course. At their current speeds, a crash seemed inevitable.

Both flyers quickly noticed the impending impact. Cassandra shouted, her voice sharp with panic:

"Wentworth! Move aside for me!"

"No way!"

Having already dodged once, Wentworth had no intention of yielding again.

As the distance between them narrowed, Cassandra, clearly nervous, yelled again:

"Wentworth, I'm a girl, you know!"

Hearing this, Wentworth hesitated, his resolve softening. But instead of yielding, he tried to accelerate and maneuver around her.

Unfortunately, his broomstick wasn't up to the task. No matter how much magical energy Wentworth channeled into it, the broomstick maintained the same sluggish speed—it had clearly reached its limit.

By the time Wentworth realized this, Cassandra's panicked face was mere inches from his. They had no time to avoid the collision.

"Bang!"

A loud crash echoed through the Quidditch pitch. Many first-years instinctively covered their eyes. When they reopened them, they saw both Wentworth and Cassandra plummeting from the sky.

Gasps erupted from the crowd below.

Just as the pair seemed destined to hit the ground with a thud, a clear voice rang out from not far away:

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The two falling students stopped in mid-air, hovering precariously above the grass.

Turning around, the first-years spotted none other than Headmaster Albus Dumbledore standing nearby, wand in hand. His presence brought a collective sigh of relief.

Madam Hooch quickly rushed over to check on Wentworth and Cassandra. After ensuring they were unharmed, the students began to relax.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, what brings you here?" Madam Hooch asked curiously as she approached him.

Dumbledore's gaze lingered on Wentworth for a moment before shifting to Cassandra. Finally, he replied:

"I have a matter to discuss with Miss Cassandra."

Cassandra blinked in surprise. Although she didn't know what was happening, she quickly followed Dumbledore as he led her away from the Quidditch pitch.

The unexpected turn of events left everyone bewildered. Wentworth watched their retreating figures, a sense of foreboding creeping into his mind.

Cassandra herself was equally puzzled, resisting the urge to ask questions as Dumbledore escorted her to his office.

Once inside the headmaster's office, Dumbledore waved his wand, summoning a tray of toffee.

"Cassandra, would you like to try some of my special toffee? It's a custom creation by Hogwarts' house-elves, tailored to my taste," Dumbledore offered kindly.

Cassandra shook her head, taking a deep breath before asking:

"Headmaster, has something happened?"

Dumbledore fell silent for a moment before nodding slowly.

"Is it… something bad?"

Seeing Dumbledore's expression, a sense of dread filled Cassandra. She suppressed her growing unease and pressed further.

This time, Dumbledore's pause was even longer.

His eventual nod sent Cassandra reeling. She clutched the desk for support, accidentally knocking over the tray of toffee in the process.

"Cassandra, are you all right? Is this from the duel earlier? Should we visit Madam Pomfrey to have you checked?"

Cassandra waved him off, straightening herself. She locked eyes with Dumbledore and said firmly:

"Headmaster, please tell me what's happened. I'm not a girl who crumbles in the face of bad news!"

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