Flight

Silas lay on his bed, trying to process the overwhelming revelation that his mother was a Squib and that he was about to enter the world of Harry Potter. But soon, another, more specific and tantalizing thought took over his mind—flying.

The scene from Doctor Strange, where the Levitating Cloak carried Strange through the skies above New York at breakneck speed as he fought Kaecilius, replayed in his mind like a looping film reel. That freedom, that style, that effortless defiance of gravity... what boy could possibly resist?

He glanced at the Levitating Cloak, which was currently draped obediently over the back of a chair, pretending to be nothing more than an ordinary cloak. One corner of it twitched almost imperceptibly, as though responding to his gaze.

"Hey, buddy," Silas muttered softly in Chinese. "You can fly, right? Just like in the movie."

The cloak made no larger movement, but Silas could sense a faint, eager emotional connection. The system was playing dead, apparently believing that this kind of "courting death" behavior fell outside its teaching scope.

Just do it! The adventurous spirit that belonged deep down to Lin Yuan—or perhaps Silas's laziness and tendency to seek shortcuts—began to stir. Theoretical knowledge? A flight manual? Those didn't exist. Practice was the only path to true knowledge!

He crept over to the window and pushed it open. Cool night air poured in, and the garden below looked peaceful in the moonlight... and a little high up.

"Here goes!" He gritted his teeth, copied Strange's pose from memory, turned around, and climbed straight out the window!

The sensation of weightlessness seized him instantly, while the wind howled past his ears. The ground rushed closer in his vision.

Cloak! he shouted in his mind.

Just as he thought he was about to become "the shortest-lived transmigrator and Sorcerer Supreme apprentice in history," the Levitating Cloak shot out from the chair back like a dark-red bolt of lightning and wrapped precisely around his small falling body!

A powerful buoyant force suddenly lifted him, bringing his fall to an abrupt halt. Silas hovered less than half a meter above the ground like a cat being held by the scruff of its neck.

"Phew... that was close." Still shaken, he patted his chest, then immediately grew excited. "It worked! I really can fly!"

He tried controlling it with his thoughts. "Up!"

The cloak understood his intent and carried him steadily upward, over the rooftop, until the entire neighborhood's nightscape spread out beneath him. Countless lights glittered like scattered stars, the evening breeze brushed his face, and the feeling of freedom filled him with exhilaration.

"This is amazing! A million times cooler than a broomstick!" Silas excitedly directed the cloak through the night sky, swooping, circling, and even attempting several sharp turns. The cloak cooperated perfectly, as though it had always been a part of his body.

But joy turned to disaster. Lost in the thrill of flight, he failed to notice that he had already left the quiet residential area and drifted close to another street with scattered lights, pedestrians, and cars. A man walking his dog late at night happened to look up and saw a child in strange robes, wrapped in a red cloak, flying across the face of the moon in an extremely unscientific manner.

The dog leash slipped from the man's hand. His mouth fell open into an O as he rubbed his eyes hard.

Silas saw the petrified figure below as well, and his heart skipped a beat. Oh no! I forgot about Muggles... no, ordinary people aren't supposed to see this!

He hurriedly lowered his altitude, trying to hide in the shadows, but it was clearly too late. Over the next half hour, he buzzed around like a headless fly, trying to avoid anyone's line of sight, but his flight path had already exposed far too much.

At last, he decided to land and found a small park that looked secluded and empty. The moment his feet touched the ground, before he could even catch his breath, a deep, calm voice carrying unquestionable authority sounded behind him.

"Good evening, Silas. I believe you owe me an explanation."

Silas stiffly turned around. Under the moonlight stood a tall, burly figure in a well-tailored Muggle suit. His bald head gleamed faintly, a gold hoop hung from his ear, and his expression was stern. It was his cousin once removed who worked at the Ministry of Magic—Kingsley Shacklebolt! Silas had met him at a family gathering before, but back then his memories from his previous life had not awakened. He had only thought this cousin once removed had an imposing presence and had never connected him to an Auror.

Countless excuses flashed through Silas's mind. In the end, he forced out a stiff smile and tried to muddle through with small talk. "Hi, Cousin Kingsley... good evening. Have you eaten?"

Kingsley's gaze swept over Silas's sorcerer robes before settling on the clearly restless Levitating Cloak. His brow furrowed slightly. "Silas... where did that red cloak come from? I'll assume you didn't pick it up off the side of the road." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, his tone faintly helpless. "Looks like the Obliviation Squad will be working overtime again tonight."

Silas knew things were bad. He had been caught red-handed by his Auror cousin once removed, and this was no small mess. Once he got home, his parents would definitely give him a double beating, and the Ministry of Magic might even restrict his movements. In a flash, he made a bold—or rather, foolish—decision.

"I choose to flee in fear of punishment!" he shouted, focusing his mind as he recalled the feeling of opening a portal that morning. He thrust both hands forward and drew a circle in the air!

This time, perhaps because his potential exploded under pressure, a ring of sparks formed with a crackle. Though its edges still flickered unstably, the entrance truly opened. Without even checking where it led, Silas plunged headfirst through it!

Kingsley had not expected the little brat to act so decisively. It was too late to stop him, and he could only watch as the portal rapidly closed after Silas vanished. He strode to the spot where Silas had disappeared. Only faint, strange magical ripples remained in the air. His expression darkened as he drew his wand and muttered, "Revelio!"

However, the tip of his wand gave no indication of a Disillusionment Charm or an Invisibility Cloak. Kingsley's brow furrowed even tighter. It was not a Disillusionment Charm, nor was it Apparition—there had been no crack or sensation of space compressing—and it was certainly not a Portkey. This was a form of spatial movement he had never seen before.

"Red cloak... Space magic... Silas..." Kingsley murmured, his eyes sharpening. "Cousin Pella, I'm afraid your son has gotten himself into far more trouble than we imagined."

He had to report to the Ministry of Magic at once, but not in the name of apprehending an underage wizard who had broken the rules. Rather... he needed to report the emergence of an unknown, powerful magical phenomenon.

Meanwhile, Silas tumbled out the other end of the portal and crashed onto hard, cold ground. Grimacing, he climbed to his feet and looked around. Then he froze in shock.

Brightly lit shops surrounded him, while a huge neon sign flashed the words "Piccadilly Circus." He stood on a sidewalk in Piccadilly Circus, central London, surrounded by a bustling crowd. Countless pairs of eyes stared in astonishment at the child who had suddenly appeared out of thin air, dressed in strange robes and wearing a red cloak.

"It's over..." Silas's vision went dark. This time, I've exposed myself even more thoroughly...

"System! Skill tree! Hurry up and tell me when the next life-saving skill can be unlocked!" he frantically called out in his mind. "At this rate, Voldemort won't kill me first—my mom or the Ministry of Magic will!"

The system's voice carried a trace of amused delight:

[My, my, Host. It seems your first practical flight lesson and urban navigation course did not receive very satisfactory marks. Your experience points did increase a little... but if you want to unlock the Ring of the Ragaddor, you'll need more "steady" practice.]

Silas: "..." Right now, he only wanted to find somewhere he could sleep peacefully. But it seemed that, for the foreseeable future, that wish was completely out of reach.