The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew-damp grass and the distant smoke of the castle’s chimneys. A line of nervous first-years stood on the H0gwarts grounds, each beside a worn, slightly splintered broomstick. Neville-Longbottom stood stiffly among them, his palms sweaty, heart thudding like a drum in his chest.

He glanced down at the broom beside him—thin, crooked, and humming faintly with old magic. He wasn’t sure whether to feel awe or fear. Probably both.

Neville : “Up!”he called, as instructed.

Nothing

Neville: “Up!” he repeated, louder this time.

The broom jerked once and then smacked him sharply in the face. Neville staggered back with a yelp, blinking furiously as a few nearby students stifled snickers. His face flushed red. Not the best start

Neville : "owww ;("

He barely had time to recover before Professor blew her whistle and barked for them to Go. The wood creaked beneath him. He didn’t feel in control. In fact, the broom felt oddly tense, like it had a mind of its own.

Then it lifted.

With a sharp whoosh, Neville was suddenly soaring ten, fifteen, twenty feet into the air. He let out a terrified yell, clutching the broom for dear life as it bucked and twisted beneath him. His legs flailed wildly. He wasn’t guiding it—it was flying.

Neville: "AHHHH HELP HELP HELP"

Below, the other students shouted in alarm. But Neville couldn’t hear them properly over the roar of the wind and his own panicked cries.

The broom dipped suddenly, then shot upward again, spinning so fast he felt his stomach lurch. He zipped past the tower walls, the stonework a blur. Ahead was a statue jutting out from a parapet—Sir Cadogan, heroic and ridiculous, sword raised in eternal battle.

Neville didn’t have time to dodge.

Neville: "AHHHHHH"

With a loud rip, his robe snagged on the statue’s upraised sword. The broom yanked away from him, and Neville dangled by the back of his robes, arms flailing, high above the ground

The cloth began to tear

Neville: “No no no—don’t—” he gasped.

It tore.

He plummeted

Neville crashed into the ground with a sickening thud, rolling through a flower bed and finally coming to rest flat on his back. For a moment, all was still except the soft rustle of leaves around him. Then pain exploded through his left arm, sharp and hot.

He groaned, blinking at the sky above.

Neville: "ah my arm" ;( he started slightly crying