After descending the steps, the Gryffindor wizards arrived at a vast lawn. The Slytherin wizards were already waiting there; the Gryffindors were taking flying lessons with them. Ryan immediately spotted a few familiar faces.
Draco Malfoy and his two lackeys—Ryan remembered them as Goyle and Crabbe—were looking at him with hatred and disgust. In fact, most of the Slytherin wizards weren't looking at him kindly. The only exception was Pansy Parkinson. She stood at the far end of the group, away from Malfoy, her head bowed, her black hair draped over her ears.
The flying instructor, Madam Rolanda Hooch, was already there, with a number of brooms spread out on the lawn in front of her.
"This is your first flying lesson. Each new student chooses a broom and stands to its left!" she announced, guiding the students to their respective brooms. "Next, hold out your right hand toward the broom and say with me—Arise!" She stretched out her right hand and whispered, and the broom flew directly into her hand.
"Arise!" Many young wizards followed suit. Harry summoned the broom with just one call, feeling as if it were an extension of his body.
"Excellent," he whispered, glancing around excitedly. Then he saw Ryan point his hand at the broom on the ground, and it instantly flew into his hand. But Harry couldn't help but feel that the trajectory of Ryan's broom flying to his hand was a little strange—it didn't seem like calling the broom, but more like... "A Summoning Charm?"
Harry thought to himself—he had heard from Hermione that Ryan knew this spell. And he didn't know if it was an illusion, but he felt that Ryan's expression was very serious. After Harry, Ron also succeeded in summoning the broom after two or three attempts. Hermione, the most accomplished of the three, took several attempts before finally landing the broom in her hands—she was practically the last to summon one.
But by then, Madam Hooch had already announced, "Okay, everyone pick up your brooms. Now you need to slowly step onto them—and remember, do it slowly..."
"Ahhh!"
Before she could finish her words, a scream echoed as everyone saw Neville Longbottom's body, accompanied by his broom, rise into the air. He swayed and slammed through the air like a drunk, causing loud cries of surprise from those below.
"He's falling!"
"Quick! Think of a way!"
"I'll help him!"
"No! Don't do that, Seamus—put down your wand!"
Amidst the chaos, Madam Hooch seemed to be frantically trying to figure things out. But then...
Swish!
Everyone heard a snapping sound, and then a broom shot up into the sky at lightning speed. The broom was so fast that the young wizards took a moment to realize who it was.
"It's Ryan—Neville's saved!"
"My goodness, he's fast!"
"How can this shabby broom be ridden so fast!?"
Even the flustered Madam Hooch was astonished. She knew the school's brooms best—honestly, they were barely good enough to fly. Those who had been employed there were probably even older than Madam Hooch, and their speed was truly unremarkable. Of course, to some extent, this was for the students' safety. But now, Ryan was riding such a broom at such a high speed.
"Ryan Elias, could he also be a Quidditch prodigy?" Madam Hooch had naturally heard of the young wizard Ryan, and so the thought occurred to her: "Charlie Weasley didn't choose to become a professional Quidditch player, but if I could discover another prodigy..."
She couldn't help but feel a little tempted. But soon, Madam Hooch noticed something was amiss, and so did the other young wizards. Because...
"Did Ryan overfly?!"
They all watched as Ryan, riding his broom, soared past Neville at an incredible speed. Judging by his direction, he was clearly headed for the castle wall surrounding the grounds!
Hermione screamed in terror, and it wasn't just her who screamed—Pansy Parkinson of the Slytherin's house also screamed!
Only then did they realize...
Ryan wasn't just too good at flying, but quite the opposite!
"Damn it, still no good!" Meanwhile, astride his broom, Ryan muttered to himself, "I've clearly guided the broom just as Mrs. Rowena taught me, and I've mastered the 'Swiss Wind Broom Ride' taught by Mr. Godric... Why is it still like this!?" Ryan grumbled indignantly.
Yes—just as the young wizards were witnessing, Ryan Elias excelled in many things: potions, dueling, spells, alchemy, the Dark Arts, even cooking and pranks—he was the best. But flying was the only exception.
While riding a broom was almost instinctual for most wizards, the only difference being whether they rode well or poorly, Ryan simply couldn't do it—even the secrets taught by the Founders were meaningless. He could mount his broom, but it would explode into speed, like a wild horse unleashed to its full potential, and attempt to throw him off!
"The brat and the broom just don't mesh; they're just not meant to be," was the Gryffindor's sharp assessment. This was why he had been so hesitant when faced with Cho's Quidditch questions on the train.
Ryan had thought that perhaps, if he returned to 1991, he could master the broom. But judging by the situation now, he hadn't been right. As Neville flew uncontrollably, his butt landed on the broom, and he flew even further out of control.
So...
"Never mind," Ryan sighed softly, then fell backward. With this movement, the broom handle jerked upward, and Ryan's body leaped lightly backward—simultaneously, Neville, who had been clinging to the broom for a long time, finally gave up and fell from the sky.
Then, all the young wizards saw clearly...
The fall that was supposed to happen didn't happen. As Ryan fell, his figure suddenly stopped and slowly floated up. His wizard robes rustled in the wind, making him appear to be walking on air. He gracefully drew his four-colored wand from his sleeve and gently tapped it at Neville, who was falling from the sky not far away.
"Aresto Momentum!"
With the incantation, Neville fell to the ground—but beneath him, an invisible cushion seemed to cushion his body. Neville let out a slow cry of surprise, only to realize he wasn't even hurt. He looked up and saw Ryan slowly floating down from the sky in front of him.
"You're still strong, you look okay," he said to Neville.
"I... you..." Neville hesitated for a long time, unable to utter a single word. At this moment, Ron and Seamus's exclamations beside him spoke for Neville's heart.
"Merlin's eyebrows—what kind of spell is that? He looks like a god!"
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Author's note
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