Flight Lessons and Muggle Magazines

……oops.

Edmund's expression became somewhat subtle.

He didn't think that 11-year-old James had fallen in love or learned what "liking" meant... Uh, sorry, but it sounded too strange.

However, Edmund knew why James held Lily in such high regard. It was easy to understand:

Because almost everyone would think highly of Lily Evans.

Her excellence is undeniable; simply muttering "you wretched Mudblood" behind her back won't make it disappear.

If Evans's brilliance in Potions was merely an accident, then Charms delivered a resounding slap in the face to those who insisted that "Evans only benefited from Snape's success." Even in this Transfiguration class, Evans was still superior to the vast majority. Apart from the exceptionally talented Edmund and James, only Black and Lupin were comparable to her in ability. Even Pollyanna and Snape could only make the matchsticks a little thinner, unable to change their appearance.

Yes, Lily Evans is excellent. And her excellence is very obtrusive.

It was in the eyes of the Slytherins who were superstitious about pure-blood theory.

At the same time, for a pure-blood wizard like James Potter who was pro-Muggle, Evans was exceptionally appealing. This girl was practically a living advertisement:

See? We always said wizards shouldn't be divided into different classes! So what if your parents are Muggles? Gold shines wherever it is. If you're not good enough, you're not good enough. Stop making a fuss all day long!

This is quite interesting; it's almost a microcosm of the entire British magical world. When the cake has been divided up, but those who received a slice are still hungry, they love to do this: form cliques and eliminate dissidents.

What? No dissidents?

If there are no dissidents, create them.

This is why the doctrine of pure-blood magic still prevails. Is it some new idea? Absolutely not; it's so old it's practically ancient. Compared to the witchcraft culture that was prevalent more than twenty years ago, it's far too young—but it cannot be denied that it does meet the needs of pure-blood wizards in England.

If viewed this way, it's no wonder that some pure-bloods, citing the Potter family as an example, scoff at the pure-blood theory.

This idea is indeed outdated, not only lacking room for maneuver but also extremely inhumane. For these wizards who are still developing new ideas and achieving considerable success, the pure-blood theory is practically self-destructive, utterly foolish, and completely unnecessary.

Edmund smiled enigmatically. Thanks to the Soman family's intelligence network, he believed he actually knew better than most British wizards what kind of storm was about to befall the British magical world.

Instead of avoiding the fray… on the contrary, he eagerly anticipates meeting the “mysterious figure” who controls the pure-blood families, for he still has a blood feud to settle:

Five years ago, this very beast broke into the Soman family's summer villa, and a flash of green light took the life of little Edmund.

Logically, the genie should thank him.

But Damon's adorable emotions were saying: Thank me my ass, you're going to die.

·

There was another flight lesson on Tuesday afternoon. On the way to the Great Hall, James nudged Edmund with his shoulder again:

"How's your flying?"

That's a good question, Edmund thought. Long, long ago, he could have confidently said he flew very well.

Whether he has wings or not, as long as he can use his dagger, a symbol of power, and borrow power from any unlucky soul... he can fly well and freely.

But now?

"So-so," Edmund replied curtly. "I don't like brooms."

James, as if he had known his answer beforehand, immediately began to boast incessantly. He said he flew exceptionally well—Sirius and Peter were his witnesses, and if Edmund didn't believe him, he could ask Remus!

It seemed the four of them got along very well, which didn't surprise Edmund. He added a comment to confirm that Gryffindor's flying lessons were taken together with Ravenclaw's.

James was still loudly and unceremoniously proclaiming himself a flying genius. Even the Gryffindor Quidditch captain had heard of his talent and told him he should definitely apply to the house team in his second year.

"He was actually quite disappointed," James snorted resentfully. "He said something like 'Don't break the rules for me,' otherwise he really wanted to make an exception and let me join the team and participate in training... Hah."

Finally, he couldn't help but smile smugly. Edmund also gave a perfunctory smirk, finding it hard to understand their enthusiasm for a game of riding on broomsticks, wielding sticks to murder each other, and then having a short guy search for a golden fly.

But he didn't dare say it out loud, because the last time he talked about it, the little brat who was listening to him burst into tears.

"Soman isn't interested in Quidditch," Sirius chuckled. "To be honest, I love flying, but I wouldn't say I love brooms... James, however, is a very good flyer."

They exchanged a knowing smile, leaving Edmund alone to sigh. The group finally parted ways upon reaching the Great Hall, returning to their respective house tables.

Edmund chewed his lunch, his left ear filled with Travers's complaints, which he dared only utter behind Jaime's back; his right ear heard Pollyanna and Sofia Walpole's whispers. He looked up to see Narcissa Black staring at him coldly, a clear displeasure etched into her pale eyes.

Fortunately, she is indeed beautiful. Even when she's talking nonsense, it's a beautiful woman talking nonsense, so she's less annoying than Lucius.

Perhaps because of her bad temper, she didn't mince words with Edmund and went around in circles to state her demands: As the eldest son of the pure-blood Soman family, I want you to stay away from my rebellious Gryffindor cousin. He needs to pay the price for his stupidity and needs to be taught a lesson.

Uh.

Edmund wasn't sure if Narcissa understood how ridiculously absurd this punishment was. This act of pushing a child who was already estranged from the family further away sounded like it only benefited James Porter.

They were already good friends, but the Black family even wanted them to go further: We don't want you anymore, go hang out with Potter!

Great! Now they can not only be friends, they can even be brothers!

That was quite funny; Edmund did indeed laugh out loud.

Narcissa's eyes turned a little scary, but fortunately Edmund was very good at dealing with the Slytherins' nonsense.

He quelled Narcissa's anger by presenting his capricious behavior as "a respect for the noble purebloods, the Black family."

Flight lessons were as boring as he'd expected, the only redeeming quality being that he saw Frank Longbottom again. The round-faced boy was surprisingly good at flying and predictably considerate. Noticing Edmund's lack of interest in the broom, Frank even hovered with him in mid-air for a while and chatted.

"I don't understand astronomy," Frank sighed. "Well, I don't understand the history of magic either. At least I can understand the other subjects, no matter how well I do. But these two… don't laugh at me, I practically slept through them."

What's so funny? Who can stay awake while studying History of Magic? Lily Evans?

Although it hasn't taken an astronomy class yet, since it can only attend classes on nights when the stars are clearly visible, it must be very sleepy... oh no, very tiring.

The two chatted casually, and Edmund casually mentioned his recent troubles:

"Someone hinted to me that he really likes Muggle magazines. But I really don't have access to buy them, or rather, I can't find anything that's suitable."

After listening, Frank thought for a moment and then came up with an idea.

"Why not ask those Muggle-born classmates? I bet some of them would be willing to help you choose."