After circling a few times on the broomstick, Sean finally came to a stop in front of Madam Hooch, still a little stiff.
"Madam Hooch, may I fly a little higher?"
"For those mischievous little wizards, my answer would be no, but…"
She raised her hand, and an equally old broom flew into her grip.
"Go on then, what are you waiting for?"
The wind howled sharply. Sean hovered ten feet above the ground, able to clearly see every dent on the pitch made by Bludgers smashing into the grass.
The southwest stands—where the Golden Snitch usually appeared—were just ahead on the right, the gilded railings gleaming softly in the morning light.
Below, he swept past a patch of neatly trimmed lawn. A few young wizards poked their heads out from the grass, gasping at the sight of someone flying under Madam Hooch's supervision.
With her permission, Sean embraced this long-lost freedom and climbed higher. The broom trembled faintly under his control but still obeyed.
Once he reached a height of over fifty feet, Hogwarts suddenly unfolded before his eyes.
The castle spires pierced the morning mist, the Black Lake stretched out like a dark mirror, and the Forbidden Forest in the distance was a vast sea of deep green.
[You practiced flying with Experienced Finch-Fletchley. Proficiency +10]
[You practiced flying with Expert Finch-Fletchley. Proficiency +50]
[…]
[A new flying title has been unlocked]
Madam Hooch followed him at an unhurried pace. Perhaps it had been too long since she'd said goodbye to the Quidditch pitch, because she had forgotten how frighteningly talented top flyers could be.
Sean was already quite high, but she didn't mind at all—she was too excited to start sharing practical flying techniques with him.
Under her guidance, Sean felt his fatigue fade away, making the green of his eyes, fixed on the horizon, seem even deeper.
Magic is generated within a wizard, but beyond that, descriptions become vague and elusive.
The only certainty is that its total amount—or a wizard's magical level—grows as the wizard matures.
But when wizards are exhausted and unable to cast spells, is it truly because their magic has been depleted?
If that's the case, then where exactly do emotions or mental states draw the strength to unleash greater magic?
Sean found his answer as he skimmed over the grass.
Just as a normal person can't fully use all their muscular strength at once, the magic inside a wizard works the same way.
And flying training helps slowly awaken the dormant portions of that magic.
The process is slow, but meaningful.
Of course, Sean believed that everyday spell practice, Transfiguration drills, and even potion brewing did the same thing—just at different speeds.
In a room where the fireplace crackled warmly, a pair of hands paused mid-grading. Minerva McGonagall felt a gust of wind brush past. She lifted her stern gaze and immediately spotted a young wizard flying smoothly—His robes billowed like a bird's wings, full of freedom.
"Quidditch, hm…"
The corners of McGonagall's mouth curved upward unconsciously. She lowered her head to resume her work—Then suddenly looked up again, striding to the window in disbelief to take another look.
Yes, she hadn't been mistaken. It wasn't just a first year; it was that boy Green.
The seed she had brought—weak and frail as it was—was flying in the sky?!
"Thank you, Madam Hooch."
Sean slowly descended to the ground, his limbs completely numb. He was drenched in sweat, but he still saved enough strength for a Cleaning Charm to hand Madam Hooch a spotless broom upon landing.
"Interested in joining Quidditch?" She nodded with clear satisfaction. Disciplined, restrained, talented—such gifted children were rare.
Sean froze. His knowledge of Quidditch remained confined to the books:
[The first Quidditch World Cup was held in 1473. Many fouls were recorded—such as turning a Chaser into a polecat, or attempting to behead the Keeper with a large axe;
Or releasing a hundred vampire bats from under the Transylvanian captain's robes.]
He shook his head silently.
"Even if you'd make a brilliant Seeker?" She sounded genuinely surprised.
[The Seeker's position is famously glamorous—they've always been the best flyers on the pitch.
That's why 'Take out the Seeker' is Rule Number One in Brutus Scrimgeour's Beater's Bible.]
Sean shook his head even harder.
What kind of terrifying bible was that…
"I think you could very well make the national team. Every team has great mascots and—"
She suddenly stopped speaking.
[The Banghurst Bats caught a Hebridean Black Dragon to use as their team mascot.]
Sean was shaking his head so violently it was like a propeller.
Compared to a Hebridean Black, he honestly felt more like the mascot.
He thought, 'Let the Hebridean Black be the Seeker, then.'
And with that, he quickly fled the Quidditch pitch, stepping lightly as he hurried off to test his theory about wizarding magical levels.
He didn't notice the tall witch in deep green robes watching him.
In the classroom, Hermione and Justin were whispering about something.
As it turned out, once a conversation involved someone everyone was curious about, stopping it became nearly impossible.
Sean focused intently on practicing Aguamenti. He needed to get at least two spells up to beginner level…
"…Eight, nine… that was one extra!"
He muttered excitedly to himself. He couldn't be sure if this awakening of magic was permanent, but it was certainly meaningful.
He had never read about anything like this in any book.
'Or maybe I just haven't read enough books…' he thought carefully.
He opened his panel again:
[Aguamenti: Apprentice Level (45/300)]
The progress was slow but steady.
[Title: Junior Flyer]
[Slightly increases broom magic sensitivity; greatly boosts flying talent]
Greatly boosts flying talent?
Sean curiously looked further down:
[Wizard Sean – Flying Talent: Gold]
No change.
'Maybe "greatly" is just relative to normal standards,' he thought.
'Or perhaps it improved, but didn't break through the legendary gold barrier?'
While waiting for his fatigue to subside, Sean opened Advanced Potion-Making.
He studied flying to reach the Ravenclaw Tower he'd nearly failed to climb.
He practiced spells for the upcoming scholarship.
And he studied potions for a longer-term goal—To earn Galleons.
Ample resources would give him stronger support for his magical education.
As a first-year Hogwarts student and an orphan, Sean didn't have many options.
Especially after picking up on Professor Snape's veiled hints and thinking things over for a long time, he had set his sights clearly.