The venue for the flying lesson was a vast, flat lawn beyond which lay the Forbidden Forest. The dark trees in the distance swayed eerily in the wind, their rustling leaves whispering as if sharing ancient secrets.
The Gryffindor students had already arrived, forming a somewhat chaotic group as they eyed the neatly lined-up broomsticks—over thirty in total—on the ground.
Moriarty overheard Percy Weasley talking rather loudly to some of his housemates.
"Charlie always complains to me about the school brooms. He says some of them shudder when you fly too high, while others always lean slightly to the left." Percy huffed, shaking his head. "Honestly, they're all ancient! What this school needs is a proper set of new brooms."
"You couldn't afford a new broom even if one came out, Weasley," sneered Keith, a Slytherin first-year who had just arrived with the rest of his housemates. "And can you stop going on about your brother? We all know about your family's… how should I put this? Their unfortunate financial situation."
Keith smirked at his fellow Slytherins, clearly expecting laughter or at least some approval. However, only his companion Ralbo gave a short chuckle. The majority of the Slytherins, including Lilith and Jericho, had already moved to stand near Moriarty.
Percy stepped closer to Keith, his expression surprisingly calm. "Being poor doesn't make me ignorant," he said smoothly. "But your ignorance might just make you poor. Not only that, but it could also get you killed one day."
With that, he turned and strode back to the Gryffindor group, calling out to his housemates, "He doesn't believe me now, but I'd bet anything that broom will teach him a lesson soon enough."
Keith's face darkened, while Ralbo glared at Percy. "He's just making things up. Don't let it bother you."
Moriarty had been silently watching the exchange, shaking his head slightly. The hostility between Slytherin and Gryffindor was ingrained too deeply.
The Slytherins took pride in looking down on the Gryffindors, while the Gryffindors took satisfaction in fighting back against the Slytherins.
Lilith, standing beside Moriarty, gave a small snort. "Keith is an idiot if he thinks he has any right to mock Weasley. The Weasleys only seem poor because they have too many children, but their father still works at the Ministry of Magic.
Meanwhile, Keith's family has fallen into ruin faster than anyone expected. I've seen his grandfather at pure-blood gatherings—always grinning and bowing to the more powerful families."
"But Weasley was being reckless," she added thoughtfully. "He's tempting fate. If Keith has an accident now, Weasley will be blamed."
"I think Weasley meant well," Jericho offered. "Even if he likes to sound self-important, he did warn us about the brooms. The school brooms really are in terrible condition."
"It's fine," Moriarty said, unconcerned. "I can guarantee our safety."
At that moment, Madam Hooch arrived. With her short, graying hair and piercing yellow eyes, she exuded authority. She scanned the students standing in two neat rows and gave a brisk nod of approval.
"Excellent," she said. "Now, everyone stand beside a broom. Quickly, now!"
The students hurried to obey, some moving hesitantly as they eyed the brooms warily.
"Right hand over the broomstick," Madam Hooch instructed, demonstrating the movement. "Now say, 'Up!'"
"Up!" the students chorused.
Only Moriarty and Jericho succeeded on their first try, their brooms immediately jumping into their hands.
Moriarty glanced at his broom. "Sweeping Five-Star. It's old."
Jericho examined his. "Comet 260. Looks decent enough."
They exchanged a knowing look. Given that this was 1988, it wasn't realistic to expect high-performance brooms. The Nimbus models were still a relatively new development, and the Firebolt hadn't even been designed yet.
Right now, professional teams flew on the Sweeping Seven-Star, while the world's top broom brands had yet to surpass the Five-Star.
Compared to those, the Hogwarts brooms were outdated—but Moriarty and Jericho were confident that their skills could make up the difference.
"Up!" Lilith called again, and this time, her broom responded.
Percy managed it on his third try.
Gradually, most of the students got their brooms to cooperate.
Only Keith struggled. No matter how many times he shouted, the broom refused to rise. Instead, it rolled on the ground uselessly.
Frustrated, Keith grabbed the broom and shook it violently, which only made the situation worse. The broom began to tremble, as if spooked.
Percy and the other Gryffindors burst into laughter.
At that moment, Madam Hooch moved on to demonstrate proper broom-riding technique. She patiently corrected the grips of several students before finally calling out, "Alright, time for your first test flight!
"When I blow the whistle, kick off from the ground with both feet. Not too hard. Rise a few feet, then land vertically. Understood?"
She raised the whistle to her lips.
But Keith, still stung by Percy's taunts, was determined to prove himself. He kicked off forcefully—before the whistle even touched Madam Hooch's lips.
"Come back down, child!" Madam Hooch called, but then her face paled.
"Oh, no!"
Keith's broom shot skyward, accelerating like an out-of-control rocket.
"Ahhh—help me!" Keith shrieked, his hands slipping from the broom handle as he ascended past seventy feet.
Without hesitation, Moriarty drew his cedar wand and pointed it at Keith.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The levitation spell slowed Keith's fall, and Moriarty swiftly took control of the panicked broom, guiding it safely to the ground.
Madam Hooch rushed forward, checking Keith over. Though he had fainted, he was otherwise unharmed.
"I'm taking him to the hospital wing," she announced. Before leaving, she shot the rest of the students a stern glare. "Nobody is to fly while I'm gone! Is that understood?"
But as soon as she was out of earshot, Jericho turned to Moriarty, eyes shining.
"The opportunity is here! Mr. Moriarty, this is it! What are we waiting for? Let's fly!"
Moriarty met his gaze, then nodded.
Side by side, they kicked off from the ground.
Within seconds, they were soaring thirty feet into the air.
Jericho grinned. "As expected from the man who took Lockhart across the Himalayas! Mr. Moriarty, I bet you could be a world-class Quidditch player—if you wanted to be."
The students below erupted into cheers, and Lilith looked eager to join them.
Moriarty tested his broom, noting its responsiveness. Satisfied, he called to Jericho, "Let's begin. First move—Sloth Grip Roll!"
A professional-level maneuver for dodging Bludgers.
Moriarty hung upside down on his broom, locking his hands and feet around the handle.
He accelerated, spinning like a whirlwind.
Jericho followed suit, and together, they spiraled upward.
"No pressure," Jericho gasped, exhilarated.
"Next move—Woollongong Shimmy!" Moriarty announced.
He zigzagged at high speed, cutting through the air like a streak of white lightning.
The wind roared in his ears, and for the first time, he truly felt free.
Suddenly, Lilith's voice rang out from below.
"Moriarty! Look ahead!"
Moriarty snapped back to focus—just in time to see a tall tower looming directly in his path.
He pulled up hard, whispering an incantation to his broom.
With unnatural agility, the broom shot straight up, gliding against the tower wall.
A window swung open—Professor McGonagall's shocked face appeared.
On the ground, Snape was marching out of the castle, his expression thunderous.
And yet, the students only had eyes for Moriarty.
"Like a shining star," Lilith whispered.
Just then, Snape's furious voice cut through the cheers.
"Slytherin! Piliwick! If you value your place at this school, you will come down at once!"