Flying class must had play an important role in the story, as Scarlet recalled the scene where the protagonist flew on a broomstick. After learning that Gryffindors and Slytherins would be attending Flying class together, she thought about the pale boy who frequently passed by Gryffindor’s long table just to prod Harry, the protagonist. She soon realised that something significant would likely happen today, probably involving Harry and that pale boy, whom she now confidently labelled as a rival or bully.

“Here, here!” Maya tugged Scarlet to a flower bed beside the corridor, where they could observe the students on the field under the shade. They weren’t the only ones staying to watch; many others were scattered around, making comments and giggling as they observed the first years learning to fly on brooms.

Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, stood between two groups of students who were lined up with brooms laying on the ground. Both Maya and Scarlet couldn’t hear what was being said, but they could see the brooms suddenly jumping up.

Some jumped into the students’ hands, some just rolled over, and others jolted a few times before lying flat on the ground...Okay, now Scarlet had some idea of what to expect tomorrow when Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had their Flying lessons.

She watched as all the brooms finally jumped into the hands of the students, who then got into flying positions. Just as Madam Hooch was about to blow her whistle, a boy from Gryffindor’s line suddenly shot into the air. It quickly became apparent that he was unable to control his broom!

“AHHHhhhh!!” The boy screamed as he ascended higher and higher, from ten feet to twenty, his face pale and horrified as the broom twitched and veered sideways, seemingly trying its best to throw him off. Now that Scarlet got a closer look, she recognised him as the boy who had been searching for his toad on the train...So, was this boy’s role in the book to be an extremely unlucky student for the protagonist to save or just serve as comic relief?

And the supposedly experienced flying instructor didn’t do anything to help? Perhaps the power of the storyline at work...Scarlet mused as she watched Neville falling off the broom. However, he landed slowly, cushioned by a sudden gust of wind that prevented him from smacking his face directly onto the ground; it was the wind she had summoned through her chants, without anyone noticing.

Though Neville had landed safely, he was so shaken that he threw up and panicked, unable to even stand on his feet.

Madam Hooch hurried to his side, and only then did Scarlet notice that she had her wand in hand, ready to save Neville. But it was clear that Neville’s uncontrollable ascent into the sky had been too fast for her to react in time.

Tear-streaked and clutching his stomach, Neville hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. As they left, he managed to catch a glimpse of the students standing in the corridor and spotted Scarlet, but he couldn’t focus on anything before being led to the hospital wing to settle down.

Scarlet’s attention shifted back to the field, where she heard faint laughter from Draco’s gang and saw that Harry seemed provoked. Soon after, Draco picked something up and flew into the air, with Harry - his face flushed in anger – following close behind...Oh, so this is how the story unfolds, eh?

She mused as she stepped closer to the field, cautiously observing the two boys chasing each other mid-air, seemingly fighting over a small red bulb. Now that she was nearer, she could hear Harry shouting at Draco, and it became clear that the red bulb belonged to Neville. The girls were screaming, the boys were cheering, and Harry was performing impressively fancy, highly skilled manoeuvres, almost as if by instinct...Well, she quietly prepared a chant on the ground, just in case anything went wrong.

She felt Maya grip her arm tightly as Harry’s movement grew more dangerous in his attempts to retrieve the red bulb. Then, in an abrupt move, Draco flung the bulb at a random angle and retreated to the ground. Harry, in turn, sped toward the red bulb, finally catching it in a dangerously precarious position...And that’s when Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out.

“HARRY POTTER!”

Loud and clear, it made Harry crouch his head and land with trembling feet.

“Never, in all my time at Hogwarts--how dare you!”

Professor McGonagall’s fury was evident as she silenced the other students who tried to speak up, swiftly tugging Harry away at a brisk pace.

The Gryffindors were all worried, while the Slytherins - especially Draco and his cronies – burst into triumphant laughter.

“He’s going to be in real trouble, might even get detention for hours! Or expelled and sent back to his Muggle relatives!” Draco exclaimed.

Ron rolled up his sleeves, clearly ready to do something, but was stopped by other Gryffindors; they all remained silent, glaring daggers at Draco and his gang.

Draco looked around with smug satisfaction, raising his eyebrows when he noticed Scarlet and Maya standing nearby, clearly having seen everything that had just transpired. With a proud tone, he said, “Not so cocky now, Scarlet Smith? I remember you getting along quite well with Potter. Seems like the sort he gets along with isn’t that great anyway.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The way he emphasised the “P” in Potter reminded Scarlet of a meme from her previous life...and she struggled to hold a grin.

“Well, I wouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly,” Scarlet replied, mentally piecing together the story based on her memory and the current situation. “Professor McGonagall didn’t take any points from Gryffindors right away, which is out of character for how she usually handles students she intends to punish.”

“So?” Draco didn’t seem as confident as before, though he still glared at Scarlet.

“Maybe she has other plan him, like...” Scarlet had had enough of the conversation and decided to head to the library, “...assigning him as a reserve player of the Quidditch team?”

Draco was momentarily stunned. “Wait, what do you mean by that?!”

Scarlet merely waved her hand dismissively and walked away, not bothering to turn her head to respond.

“Scarlet, is it true that Harry Potter is going to be a reserve player?” Maya asked in amazement as they both left the scene. “How did you know?”

“Just a guess based on the information we have,” Scarlet shrugged. “It might not be the case, but it’s the best prediction I can come up with.”

After finishing her homework in the library, Scarlet paused for a moment before bidding Maya goodbye and heading for the hospital wing, which surprised Maya. “Is he your friend?” she asked.

“Well, not exactly, but I helped him look for his toad on the train,” Scarlet replied, “He seems forgetful and unlucky. I just hope he’s alright.”

“Oh, yeah, we never want someone we know to have an accident.” Maya nodded sympathetically. “Well, see you later at dinner, I’ll be with Amelia, reading her magazine.”

“Magazine?” Scarlet asked, “From the wizarding world?”

“Yeah, she got it this morning from her mum – she’s deciding which one to subscribe to.”

Scarlet pondered for a moment and said, “Remind me to take a look. I might need to check those out for my novel.”

“Sure.”

Scarlet slung her bag over her shoulder and started trotting down the hallway; she preferred to walk briskly when she was alone – a bit of light exercise to strengthen her body. Soon, she arrived at the hospital wing and found Neville occupying a bed in the corner, still looking pale and nauseous.

“Hi, Neville,” Scarlet asked softly, mindful that this was a medical ward, and she should keep her voice low, much like when visiting someone in hospital. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Scarlet?” Neville opened his eyes, surprised to see her. He motioned for Scarlet to sit down and attempt to rise from the bed, but Scarlet gently pushed him back by the forehead, urging him to stay put.

“I think I saw you in the corridor,” he said weakly.

“Yes, I was watching you all during the flying lesson - just trying to mentally prepare myself for ours,” Scarlet said. “I noticed they were chasing something after you left - a red bulb. Was it yours?”

Neville’s eyes widened, “That’s my Remembrall! My gran sent it to me!”

“Don’t worry, Harry caught it for you. You’ll get it back later,” Scarlet reassured him, “What’s it supposed to do?”

“To remind me that I’ve forgotten something.”

Scarlet waited a moment, puzzled. “That’s it? It doesn’t tell you what you’ve forgotten?”

“No...It just turns red,” Neville said with an embarrassed expression, “My memory’s not reliable - I keep forgetting things.”

“Well, maybe we can find a way to help with that,” Scarlet replied, and mused, something like an AI assistant? Magic should be able to do something similar, right? Maybe something like the Sorting Hat? But I remember the Sorting Hat was made with advanced magic cast by the Founders...That might be difficult to replicate. She continued to comfort Neville, “I’ve ordered a custom-made quill from the Weasley twins - you know, Ron’s brothers. Maybe we could have one made specifically for you, to jot down things you need to remember...And make it speak whenever the Remembrall turned red?”

Neville’s face brightened as if he’d found his saviour, “Really? They could make something like that?”

“Well, they’re pretty good at inventing things, though their main focus is on pranks and joke items,” Scarlet said, “I’m sure they’d love to custom-make something for you if you offer them a good amount of Galleons. But you’ll need to discuss the commission fee with them.”

“That’s good to know. I really need something to help me with my forgetfulness,” Neville said, clearly trouble by this issue for a long time.

“How are you feeling now? Do you need to stay overnight?”

“No. Madam Pomfrey said I can go back before dinner,” Neville replied. “I’m not injured, just terribly shocked and panicked. She gave me some Calming Draught and let me rest here. I’m feeling a lot better now, especially after talking with you.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Scarlet said.

They chatted for a while, learning more about each other’s backgrounds. Neville was curious about Scarlet’s Muggle home, while Scarlet was intrigued by St. Mungo’s Hospital.

“A hospital specifically for wizards?” Scarlet found it hard to imagine what that might be like.

The Caster Association in her previous life had its own medical centre, but it mostly treated injuries and illnesses caused by abnormalities, and it looked much like any other hospital - just with different treatment methods. But that obviously wasn’t the case here. With Transfiguration being a commonly used magic, the scene in St. Mungo’s would likely be bizarre and beyond imagination...Should I check it out? For the sake of knowledge? Surely my sanity point wouldn’t drop drastically, right?

However, she couldn’t just drop in for a look unless, in the future, a friend ended up in the ward - which she sincerely hoped wouldn’t happen.

“You seemed interested in St. Mungo’s,” Neville remarked.

“Well, you’ve probably heard about my novel?” Scarlet saw him nod and continued, “I’m trying to come up with a new story - a brand-new story in a brand-new setting that has nothing to do with my current one. So, I need to broaden my knowledge to find inspiration.”

“And you want to have a look at St. Mungo’s?” Neville’s expression was composed, but Scarlet could tell he was hiding something - it was too obvious. She decided to ignore it and continue the conversation.

“If possible,” Scarlet shrugged. “Anyway, it’s almost dinner time. Are you feeling better now? Do you need a hand getting to the Great Hall?”

“No, I’m fine, just a bit slow.”

“That’s alright, I’ll walk with you.” Scarlet smiled and accompanied him all the way - from being discharged to finally sitting down in the Great Hall. She waved him goodbye before settling in her usual seat with Amelia and Maya by her side.

She finished her dinner with her usual chat with her housemates, and just as she was about to head for her training room - which she had told Maya and Amelia was a quiet room she’d applied for from Professor Sprout to work on her novel each night (and they believed her) - Hermione caught up with her, looking troubled.

“Scarlet, I need your advice on something,” Hermione said.