Nothing new came to light during Bruce's detentions on Thursday and Friday, either. The weekend passed without any new incidents and life got back to normal, as normal as Hogwarts life ever was. Classes continued inside the castle as the grounds went from green to red to brown.
A few other students that Bruce knew of found themselves serving detention with Professor Nygma, but nobody that he or George or Miles talked to could shed any light on what the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was researching. Going through the sources he'd given Bruce wasn't making much progress either, their "study group" was having more success as an actual History of Magic study group. That was probably just as well, since History of Magic remained as dull as ever. Only Professor Binns could make dragon attacks and troll armies so incredibly tedious.
The other classes at Hogwarts were more than interesting enough to make up for Binns. In Transfiguration they moved on from turning matchsticks to needles up to turning mice into pincushions and back, in Charms they learned a variety of ways to levitate or push or pull things around, and Defense Against the Dark Arts continued to practice new curses and defenses. Even Potions class was fascinating, despite how Professor Desmond belittled all his students and seemed to especially target Ravenclaw just for their association with Julian.
Broomstick flying turned out to be one of Bruce's best classes. Many of his fellow students had trouble adjusting to navigating in three dimensions, or they became dizzy coming out of sudden climbs or dives, or were just afraid of heights; yet Bruce found it easy, even easier than when his father had taught him to ride a bike. It was like he'd always been meant to be moving through the air and just hadn't known it.
His ease on a broom didn't go unnoticed by Madam Hooch, the school's Flying Instructor and Quidditch Coach, who pulled him aside after flying class a few weeks after his detentions. He held on to the Shooting Star he'd flown during class while everyone else put away their brooms in the equipment shed and headed up to the castle. Was he in trouble? He'd done everything she'd told them to do during class perfectly.
"You're muggle-born, right?" She asked without preamble. Bruce nodded, he couldn't possibly be in trouble for that, could he? Madam Hooch went on without seeming to notice his confusion, "So you've never ridden a broom before?" He nodded again and she pressed on, "And you've never flown anything else before, right? No sort of glider or aeroplane?"
"No ma'am," he answered. When she nodded but didn't respond he ventured, "Why are you asking?"
Instead of answering, she instructed him to hold on to his broom and head back out to the obstacle course. The course was on open depression in the grounds, about halfway between the Quidditch field and the Forrest. Wooden barricades of various heights were placed around the course to present obstacles or direct fliers and a rope ceiling marked the top of the course. During class, the instructor could watch from a nearby hill to see how students were progressing.
Without a word the Flying Instructor waved her wand and the course reconfigured itself. Bruce had seen this before, but the new course looked much more complicated than anything they'd done so far and he would have been surprised if it was meant for first years at all. "There's the starting line, lad, and there's the finish." She pointed to the two opposite ends of the course and pulled out a silver stopwatch, "I'll be timing you."
Her tone brooked no argument and he had no more classes this afternoon or any other excuse. He would just have to do his best to complete the course as instructed. At the starting line Bruce mounted the old Shooting Star. All of the school's brooms had developed their own quirks over the years, this one tended to list to the left and noticeably shook when braked too hard.
Madam Hooch blew the whistle and Bruce kicked off the ground and pushed the broom forward into the course. The first set of obstacles weren't too bad, a series of tight turns that wound left, right, right-left, 180 degree hairpin, then a straight sequence that required a gentle drop and swerving around small intrusions. Then came a sharp dive followed immediately by a hard left turn that Bruce almost didn't see in time.
Now the passage began to narrow, with the grass below and the wooden ceiling getting lower, forcing him to descend through an opening barely taller than he was. It opened to a sheer wall with no exit left, right, or forwards. This is an obstacle course, not a maze, there's a way through here. With no other obvious direction to go, Bruce pulled straight up. He craned his neck back, There it is! The passage continued directly above the previous section. Bruce changed his climb to an inverted loop, leveled out in the passage upside-down, and then rolled to right himself. In mid-roll he realized that this section also descended, and adjusted his path to match.
From there the course continued with a series of close placed barriers that had to be avoided by quickly going around, over, or below them and a series of hard turns. After a final blind left, the course suddenly ended and Bruce was flying towards the treeline. He turned the Shooting Star back and landed next to Madam Hooch. After dismounting he looked up and asked, "How was that?"
She held out the stopwatch, it read his time as 1:45.5, "I'll have to check the records, but I think that's the fastest first time through the Advanced Course and the fastest first-year time ever. Very neatly done. Even experienced students rarely manage that roll-off-the-top on their first try."
They walked in silence back to the broom shed. Madam Hooch made no further comments and Bruce wasn't sure what question to ask first. Why had she kept him after class? Why run him through an advanced obstacle course? What did having a good time mean? Was this something she wanted every student to do?
He didn't get any answers until after he'd stowed the Shooting Star. Once she'd locked up the shed, Madam Hooch finally seemed to decide what it was she wanted to say, "Lad, I've seen plenty of future professionals come through this school. If I had all of them back as first years again, you'd still be near top of the class. You're a natural on a broom like few I've ever known."
Before he could even absorb that she had dismissed him back to the castle with a final admonishment, "If you don't try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team next year, I'll take it as a personal insult."
Was he really that good on a broom? He was better than the other first year Ravenclaws, but someone had to be best in the class, didn't they? Did Bruce really want to devote that much time to flying, even if he did enjoy it?
And trying out for the team? He didn't even know if he liked the game! He hadn't even seen a Quidditch match yet! The Hogwarts season started in mid-October, the first game wasn't until that Saturday. Maybe that was why Madam Hooch had pulled him aside now, so that Bruce would be sure to watch it and see what he was going to be getting into. If so, she needn't have bothered, George was insistent that Bruce watch a proper Quidditch game.
The day of the game, they made their way out to the Quidditch pitch after breakfast. The match was Slytherin versus Hufflepuff, so fortunately Bruce and his friends wouldn't be expected to be rooting against each other. Most of the school crowded onto the bleachers, bundled up against the Autumn chill. Many of the spectators carried flags in green or yellow, the colors of the two houses.
Madam Hooch started the game with a sharp not on her whistle and Bruce soon saw why George had been so blase about Jones' tumble down the stairs. When the book had described Bludgers, he'd imagined the dodgeballs from Muggle gym class. Instead, the Bludger was more like a small cannonball and any player struck by it was in for bruises at the very least and a two-story fall to the ground if they were unlucky. Jones had indeed gotten a spot on the Slytherin team, which was unsurprising given that in his second year he already rivaled the other Slytherin beater for size. Beaters seemed to be at the most risk of being hit by a Bludger, since their whole job was to block and redirect them.
Bludgers weren't the only risk, though. Chasers frequently twisted off their broom, leaving only their knees to grip it, so they could try to snatch the Quaffle from an opponent. Any wrong move here, or an unscrupulous elbow from the opponent, and the player was likely to fall. On either end the Keepers were just as likely to make dramatic dives to catch an incoming Quaffle before a goal was scored against their team. As the game wore on and players became more fatigued, falls and injuries seemed increasingly likely.
While the match went on, Bruce saw two more players circling around the stadium, sometimes passing over the stands. These, explained Miles, were the Seekers, whose job was to find and catch the Golden Snitch. Bruce remembered that, according to Quidditch Through the Ages, they were most prone to injury because they would go to extreme lengths to catch the Snitch; gladly taking the risk of crashing into the ground, stadium, or other players; and there was a strong incentive to take them out of the game if at all possible. That, the book said, was how the Lightning Bolts had won the 1985 QLA Championships. Since Quidditch had no means of punishing rules violations except with penalty throws, Snart and his fellow Beater would pursue the opponent Seeker relentlessly until the fellow could no longer play, and if doing so required penalty throws then he trusted the Keeper to block them.
George insisted that the lack of any other enforcement was a key feature of the game, encouraging teams to strategically break the rules if necessary. Madam Hooch watched over the game like a hawk for any such "strategic" rulebreaking, but it must have been a clean game because it ended after a few hours (210 - 180, Hufflepuff) with no penalties called. Bruce noticed that the Snitch spent most of the game hiding near the yellow Hufflepuff bunting on the stands, apparently it didn't just try to dodge players by flying quickly.
The school was abuzz that evening, even the Ravenclaw common room was excited about the game and what it meant for the season. In the middle of all the speculation about the next match, when Ravenclaw would play against Gryffindor, Bruce managed to speak with all the current members of the Ravenclaw team. As it happened half the team were set to graduate at the end of the year, requiring major changes at the start of the next year. Which brought back to mind what Madam Hooch had said about how he should try out. Bruce still didn't much care for sports, but he did love flying and Quidditch would be a good reason to get his own broom and spend as much time as he could on it. Well, he reminded himself as he pulled up his covers, It won't matter for nearly a year, I can worry about it then.
That night Bruce had odd dreams of going with his Mother to watch a Knights game, but Gotham Stadium had become a Quidditch pitch and the players (still wearing their Football pads) were all on broomsticks. There was more, a riddle of some sort. Something to do with Nygma? Whatever it was it faded when he woke up. What he could remember was the feeling of being close to his Mom again. It felt good, having that connection to her, even if it was only a dream. Maybe Quidditch was a good idea.
His warm feeling lasted through the day. Miles even remarked on it during their "study group" that afternoon, "What's got you in such a good mood?"
"Oh, I uh..." Bruce stammered. It was too personal to admit that his good mood came from a dream about his mom, but there was something else he could mention, and it would be a good idea to ask them about it anyway, "Madam Hooch said that I was really good on a broom and that I should try out for Quidditch next year. What do you guys think?"
"How good?" George demanded.
"She said that I had the best blind time through the Advanced Obstacle Course of any first-year student she'd seen." Which was true enough, and repeating the rest felt too much like boasting.
"There's an Advanced Obstacle Course?!" At a stern look from the librarian George dropped his voice, "There's an Advanced Course?"
Bruce nodded and Miles picked up the questions from there, "Madam Hooch had you run the Advanced Course half way through your first term. She must think you're good." He looked at George, "Even if she makes everyone try it, it would have to be at the end of the year."
George hand twitched and he visibly restrained himself from grabbing Bruce's collar, "I have got to see you fly. If you don't try out next year I will learn that Incurable Dancing Curse that Nygma told us about just to use it on you." He didn't sound like he was joking, and Bruce hastily assured them both that he was going to talk to his godfather about it.
He already knew that Alfred would encourage him to try out as well, he'd often pressured Bruce to attend any sort of social or team activities at his previous schools. It was still something he should tell Alfred about, so after dinner he sent Robin with a letter repeating what the Flying Instructor had said. Maybe when he went back for Christmas break they could look at brooms, although Bruce could hardly practice in the middle of London and wouldn't be allowed to have on at school until next year.
Monday morning he passed the giant, Mr. Hagrid, in the Entrance Hall carrying a pumpkin nearly as large as Bruce was. "Hello, Mr. Hagrid." Bruce rarely saw the Groundskeeper in the castle except at the staff table during meals. This was the first time he'd had a chance to speak to him since the first day of class.
"Eh?" Mr. Hagrid looked around at his own eye level before peering down to Bruce's, "Oh! 'ello there. No need ter be callin' me 'Mister' it's just 'Hagrid' ter me friends." He held out his hand, which completely enclosed Bruce's when he reached out to shake it. "Remin' me, what was yer name again?"
"Bruce Wayne, sir - I mean, Hagrid."
"Well, pleasure ter be meetin' ye again, Bruce." He hefted the massive jack-o-lantern he'd been carrying, "Hope ye enjoy Halloween at Hogwarts. 's like nothing ye've ever seen!"
That night at dinner he saw what Hagrid had meant. Dozens of jack-o-lanterns in a variety of shapes, all as large as the one from that morning, hovered over the Great Hall. Live bats hung from the invisible ceiling and flew back and forth across the Hall, and it was still over a week until the day itself. Every day the decorations grew more elaborate. Hogwart obviously took its holidays very seriously.
As Halloween approached the school ghosts got into the spirit as well, with Nearly Headless Nick going around to each table to share an embellished account of his own botched beheading and the Fat Friar retelling a variety of terrifying tales from his own lifetime. Only the Bloody Baron and the Grey Lady seemed impervious, even annoyed, by the approaching holiday. Bruce learned why at dinner just a few days before Halloween, when Louisa Ferret asked the Lady about it.
"Believe it or not, young lady, being murdered was very unpleasant." Helena snapped, "Nicholas may choose to make light of his death, but I don't. Every year the others decide to play these ridiculous games, as though anyone around here forgets that we're dead." After a pause she looked over at the Slytherin table and glared, "As for the Baron's reasons... We don't talk." Then she abruptly ended the conversation by dropping through the floor leaving an awkward silence at the Ravenclaw table.
The Ravenclaw ghost didn't return to either the Great Hall or the Common Room for several days, only reappearing at the Halloween feast with the other Hogwarts ghosts. They arrived as a group in the middle of the feast and the assembled students and staff were "treated" to a reenactment of the death of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. Most of the room were far more interested in their dinners than in seeing the Fat Friar inexpertly try to remove Nick's head with a blunt axe, and even the other ghosts seemed bored by the presentation.
The most interesting part of the play was when Peeves the Poltergeist decided to spice it up by playing the part of the crowd at Sir Nicholas' public execution. This primarily involved him loudly heckling both performers and flinging bits of food pilfered from the dining tables in their direction. Peeves' aim was often "accidentally" off and he frequently hit the nearby diners. Barbara Minerva in Gryffindor was hit by a large custard that had passed through the Fat Friar's back and she tried to retaliate by aiming a curse at Peeves. He dodged and she instead hit Eddy Fyers from Slytherin, who tried to hit her back but collapsed when his legs wouldn't work and instead managed to get Daniel Cormac at the Hufflepuff table.
A general melee threatened to break out when Professor McGonagall waved her wand, freezing all the combatants in their tracks. "The next person who tries to carry on this nonsense will spend every night for the next month in detention!" When she lifted the charm the would-be fighters grumbled but returned to their seats and returned to their meal. Nick eventually managed to chase off Peeves, but by that point it was clear that his reenactment was ruined and his intended audience was entirely focused on their pumpkin pie. He settled back down at the Gryffindor table and the feast concluded quietly.
This, Bruce learned later, was actually a pretty tame holiday by Hogwarts standards.
