It was a bright day with a gentle breeze.
As Sean and Justin walked across the sloping grass toward a flat lawn, the warm wind rippled across the grass like an invisible hand.
At the end of the Quidditch pitch loomed the dark Forbidden Forest, a place expressly off-limits by Headmaster Dumbledore. Occasionally, strange sounds drifted from within, drawing the young wizards' gaze with a mix of awe and curiosity.
More than twenty brooms were neatly lined up on the ground. They looked old and worn, some with twigs sticking out.
No wonder Justin had a question.
"No, because wizards invented the Cushioning Charm," Sean explained softly. "In 1820, Elio Smes created the Cushioning Charm, which took broom comfort to the next level."
Even though Sean spoke quietly, some of the young wizards around him murmured, "I see now."
Soon, the picturesque, painting-like lawn was filled with young wizards in robes.
The sound of quick footsteps approached: a capable-looking woman strode forward.
"All right, what are you waiting for? Everyone, stand by a broom—quick, hurry, don't waste time!"
Her yellow eyes were sharp as an eagle's, and her short gray hair fluttered slightly as she spoke rapidly and urgently.
"They call her Madam Hooch," Michael suddenly appeared to add. "Besides teaching flying lessons, she also serves as a referee for Hogwarts Quidditch matches."
Referee?
Hearing the word, Sean recalled some curious stories from The Magical Quidditch Ball:
Over the centuries, there have been many attempts to tamper with referees' brooms. The most dangerous incident turned a referee's broom into a door key. Halfway through the match, the broom whisked the referee away, and months later, he appeared in the Sahara Desert.
Dangerous work, Sean thought.
"The Meteor? Didn't Cosmic Broom Ltd. go bankrupt in 1978? How did Hogwarts get such a rare collectible?!"
Just as Sean approached his broom, he heard Michael whisper in despair. He looked at his own broom carefully.
Fortunately, it was the Seven-Star Sweep, at least Sean could still find its manual. Other young wizards with the rare collectibles would just have to rely on luck.
"Before you use your brooms, I must warn you: if anyone attempts to take off on their own, what happened to Mr. Lombarton yesterday could be your fate today. He was lucky to only break his wrist—if not, a broken neck would take only a moment!"
The young wizards felt a chill at their necks. A Hufflepuff covered theirs in panic, as if they might instantly become Sir Nicholas.
"Now, face your broom and shout, 'Up!'"
"Up!"
Soon, many eager young wizards cast the spell. Some succeeded on the first try—like Justin. His broom jumped twice into his hands.
Others struggled, like Terry and Michael; their brooms either wouldn't move or bounced weakly.
Sean mimicked Madam Hooch's tone:
"Up—huh?"
He held the broom, which was as obedient as a fawn.
For a moment, Sean froze. Had he even… finished speaking?
"All right, mount your broom. When I blow the whistle, kick off the ground with both legs—kick hard."
Madam Hooch spoke loudly. After waiting for everyone to settle, she added briskly:
"Hold your broom steady, rise a few feet, then lean slightly forward and descend vertically. Listen to my whistle—three—two—"
On the brooms, some young wizards were panicked, trembling completely.
Even among the Ravenclaws, Sean was the calmest. He didn't plan to fly high. Instead, he focused on how to use Sir Cadogan's techniques.
"Broom flight is powered by magic… control yourself…"
Sean murmured. As he shifted his full weight onto the broom, he vaguely sensed something.
Whenever the broom tilted left or right, there was a hidden force flowing:
Braking Charm, Ascension Charm, Steering Charm…
Sean quickly guessed the source of these forces. Immersing himself fully, Madam Hooch's third command came:
"One! Drop—"
A sharp whistle sounded. The young wizards shot upward like raindrops against the sky.
One Ravenclaw suddenly raised their broom and soared straight toward the blue sky. Luckily, they weren't too fast and Madam Hooch silently summoned them down.
A Hufflepuff, however, plummeted headfirst toward the ground. Fortunately, Madam Hooch reacted quickly, cushioning them with a pile of hay.
Many others fell off their brooms like dumplings.
Madam Hooch was busy and sweating, sometimes having to deal with young wizards clutching her hands:
"I'm going to die!"
She immediately doused one with water, bringing them to their senses.
Five or six young wizards managed to hover in the air for a few rounds, but the smoothest, cleanest, and most graceful flight went undoubtedly to the slightly pale-faced Ravenclaw.
[You practiced flying with Experienced Level Skill. Proficiency +10]
[You practiced flying with Experienced Level Skill. Proficiency +10]
…
The prompts kept sounding, and Sean's flight became increasingly proficient.
He could feel the subtle magic and the mysteries behind it. It was a simple manipulation: to turn left, you guided the broom's left-turn charm with your magic. To stop, you lightly triggered the braking charm.
Magic—or faint magic in harmony with will—was the key to make the broom obey.
Sean didn't know that because brooms had their own braking system, most young wizards were just using them like tools.
Control like his was only needed by Quidditch players.
They called it "syncing with your teammate's mind."
"That's… Sean?"
Michael trembled on his broom, flying low but terrified.
Looking up at the free 'bird' in the sky, he could hardly believe it.
[You practiced flying with Experienced Level Skill. Proficiency +10]
[Flying skill unlocked]
[New flying domain title unlocked, please check]
[A wizard talent unlocked, please check]
The prompts never stopped. Sean had never felt this free. For his weak body, running and jumping had been luxuries.
The flying broom let him feel the wind rushing past his ears again.
He felt his enthusiasm ignite, like the fireplace crackling in the orphanage's old hall.