The Boy Who Shouldn't Have Flown
The morning sun hit the stone corridors of Hogwarts with a deceptive warmth that masked the tension in the air.
E.g. ：I still feel the sticky cafeteria juice on my uniform.
- 1、The Boy Who Shouldn't Have Flown
- 2、The Awakening of the Relic
- 3、A Trail of Destruction
- 4、The Conspiracy in the Clouds
- 5、The Final Confrontation
- 6、The Aftermath of the Descent
Leo gripped the handle of his broom so tightly his knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white.
To the other students, he was just a clumsy boy from a family of unremarkable wizards.
But Leo carried a secret in his bloodline that even the Headmaster hadn't fully decoded yet.
He stepped onto the grass of the courtyard, feeling the weight of a thousand years of history pressing down on him.
Professor Blackwood stood at the front of the class, her eyes scanning the row of nervous children with a practiced suspicion.
"Mount your brooms," she commanded, her voice echoing off the ancient stone walls.
When Leo threw his leg over the gnarled wood, the world around him seemed to stutter.
The broom beneath him wasn't the standard school model everyone else was using.
It was an "Outcast's Branch," a relic whispered about in the dark corners of the library but never seen in the light of day.
The Awakening of the Relic
As soon as Leo’s feet left the ground, the broom let out a violent shudder that vibrated through his very marrow.
The nervous whispers of his classmates were instantly replaced by the roar of unnatural wind.
The broom didn't follow the gentle arc of a beginner’s flight; it snapped upward with the force of a falling star.
Leo’s scream was caught in his throat as the G-force pinned his chest against the handle.
He looked down to see the courtyard shrinking into a tiny patch of green surrounded by grey stone.
Professor Blackwood wasn't shouting instructions anymore; she was screaming for the other faculty members.
The broom began to glow with a sickly, rhythmic violet light that pulsed like a heartbeat.
It didn't care about the student on its back; it was a homing missile locked onto a target deep within the castle's architecture.
Leo realized with a jolt of terror that his hands were fused to the wood by a magnetic magical force.
He wasn't the pilot; he was the key.
A Trail of Destruction
The flight path was a chaotic blur of shattered history and flying debris.
The broom veered toward the West Tower, smashing through a series of floating candles that rained hot wax down like golden tears.
A massive stained-glass window depicting the school’s founders exploded into a million shimmering shards as Leo flew through it.
He could hear the frantic whistling of the wind as he narrowly missed the jagged edges of ancient statues.
Behind him, three professors had mounted their own high-speed brooms in a desperate pursuit.
They weren't casting "Arresto Momentum" to slow him down.
They were casting "Reducto" and "Confringo," aimed directly at the broom itself, seemingly willing to risk the boy’s life to stop the flight.
Leo realized then that the faculty wasn't afraid of him falling to his death.
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They were terrified of where the broom was taking him.
The ancient wood was steering him toward the "Aether Chamber," a room that supposedly didn't exist on any map of the school.
The Conspiracy in the Clouds
Every time a professor got close, the broom performed an impossible, bone-snapping maneuver to evade them.
Magical sparks flew as the professors' spells hit the invisible shield surrounding Leo and his mount.
The "nervous student" act was failing, and Leo’s true purpose began to surface in his mind.
He remembered the letter his father had left him, hidden inside the lining of his trunk.
"The school is a cage for a power they stole," the letter had read.
Leo felt a surge of cold determination replace his fear as the broom headed for the highest spire of the castle.
The professors were shouting at each other, their faces twisted in a mixture of rage and pure, unadulterated panic.
"If he touches the spire, the seal is broken!" Blackwood yelled over the gale.
The broom smashed through a final barricade of protective wards, the air rippling like water as the magic broke.
Leo saw the ancient symbols on the broom's handle begin to align with the runes carved into the tower's peak.
The Final Confrontation
The broom completed a final, stomach-turning spin that left Leo hanging upside down in the thin mountain air.
The world was spinning, his vision blurring as the blood rushed to his head.
Suddenly, the broom stopped dead in mid-air, frozen by a force more powerful than gravity.
Leo hung there, his scarf whipping wildly in the wind, looking directly into the eyes of the Headmaster who had appeared on the balcony.
The Headmaster wasn't reaching out to save him; he was holding a silver dagger, ready to sever the connection.
The professors hovered nearby on their brooms, their wands trembling as they pointed them at the eleven-year-old boy.
The silence that followed the chaos was heavier than the noise of the flight.
Leo looked down at the broom and saw the secret compartment had finally clicked open.
Inside wasn't a piece of parchment or a wand, but a pulsating shard of the castle’s original heart.
The "out-of-control" flight had been a calculated heist, orchestrated by a force older than the school itself.
The Aftermath of the Descent
The Headmaster spoke a single word of command, and the gravity around Leo inverted once more.
He fell onto the stone balcony, the broom clattering beside him, now nothing more than a piece of dead wood.
The professors landed in a circle around him, their expressions grim and devoid of any teacherly concern.
"You have no idea what you've just woken up," the Headmaster whispered, looking at the glowing shard Leo still held.
The other students in the courtyard below were being ushered inside by prefects, told that it was just a "broom malfunction."
But the shattered windows and the scorched towers told a much different story.
Leo looked at his hands, which were still glowing with the faint violet light of the Outcast's Branch.
He realized then that he wasn't going to be expelled; he was going to be "erased."
The flying lesson was never about learning to hover; it was the first test in a war for the school’s soul.
As the guards moved in to take him to the dungeons, Leo smiled for the first time that day.
The shard in his hand was already sending a signal to the allies waiting in the Forbidden Forest.
The out-of-control broom had finished its mission, and the real chaos was only just beginning.
