65 Chapter 62

After she was done, she surveyed the field of boys and nodded.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle-three-two-"

Harry had a bad feeling about this.

Just as he had thought that, one of the brooms shot skyward, accompanied by a boy's screams of horror. The boy was spinning at an awful rate as he ascended, they only got glimpses of his white face. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Harry realized who it was.

It was Neville!

"Come back, boy!" shouted Madam Hooch.

Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away and saw him gasp, slipping sideways…and he was thrown off the broom!

"NO!" Harry yelled, throwing his mana out in a desperate effort to bend the air around the boy to keep him from falling, but it was too far too little.

Neville plummeted to the ground fast.

Suddenly, almost as if of its own volition, Gamer's Mind snapped onto Harry's mind, sending as much mana as possible outwards into the area on the ground Neville was falling towards, creating a massive updraft of wind. It wasn't much use in stopping his fall, but Neville slowed down.

It wasn't much, but it saved his life.

WHAM! - a thud and a nasty crack echoed across the pitch. Neville lay face-down on the grass in a heap. His broom was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Harry blinked, shaking off the loud buzz caused by Gamer's Mind taking over so fast. Dropping his broom, he took off as fast as he could towards the fallen boy, discreetly casting observe.

Neville Longbottom

Lv-3

HP-60/150

MP-100/100

Race-Wizard

Str-3

Vit-5

Dex-4

Int-6

Wis-5

Luc-1

Neville Franklin Longbottom is a pureblood son of House Longbottom and the son of the now brain dead Frank and Alice Longbottom. He grew up with his Grandmother and Uncle until, at age eleven, he was accepted into Hogwarts. He possesses a good heart and is a gifted herbologist.

He is unconscious.

The HP wasn't too badly decreased, which was a huge relief.

Reaching the downed boy, Harry positioned his inventory subtly into his pocket to pull out a Wiggenwald healing potion. None of his classmates or his teachers saw him tip the potion into Neville's unconscious mouth since they were still running towards them. So, Harry pretended to be checking his pulse, before rising to his feet to reassure the worried Gryffindor boys that Neville was alive.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. Harry heard a few groans. Apparently, the potion had done its job, and Neville was now conscious.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard Hooch mutter, "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"No one is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. When they were out of earshot, one of the Slytherins started giggling. That set off the others. Gritting his teeth, Harry swung around to see who it was. It was Malfoy who had burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

"Shut up, you slimy Slytherins." snapped Seamus Finnigan. The Gryffindor first years looked as if they were about to launch into a fist fight.

"Look!" said Malfoy, ignoring the Gryffindors as he darted forwards and snatched something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."