Would Lifting Your Feet Off the Ground Make You Smarter?

"If yesterday were tomorrow, then today would be Friday. So what day is it today?"

The Door Knocker was handing out easy questions today.

After making it back to the Common Room without trouble, the new students noticed something amiss—a new notice had been posted on the bulletin board. In impeccable grammar, it informed every first-year student that they would have Flying class with the Hufflepuff students on Thursday morning.

"Ah, flying..."

Kevin sighed.

The others felt the same way. Only Bell perked up. "Finally."

He was the only one who had ever ridden a children's broom, and he was the most interested in Quidditch out of everyone in the Dormitory.

"Don't be like that. It's not hard. I've never touched a real broom either—I was going to try when I was nine, but..."

Bell shook his head vigorously, a trace of fear in his eyes.

"I'm not so sure... I can't help being scared of something I can't learn about from a book."

"Same... Why hasn't anyone written a book on how to use a Broomstick?"

"Probably because it's simple," Andrew said, leaning against the wall. He was a little nervous himself, but he kept trying to convince himself otherwise. "If you had to spend three or four months studying the rules of flying and then follow a pile of regulations, someone would definitely have published a book about it."

"True... There are entire books about fouls in Quidditch Matches, but hardly a word about flying..."

"There's no point imagining it. Better think about how we're going to survive our next class... Potions again."

That snapped everyone out of their gloomy sighing. Flying class was worth worrying about, but it was still in the future. Potions class... That danger was right around the corner!

Flying class probably hit Ravenclaw hardest. In the days that followed, hardly any of the new students Andrew knew stopped fretting about it.

Ravenclaws were good at using experience to face the unknown, but with flying, either you knew how to do it or you didn't. Even the best storyteller couldn't put the feeling into words.

Worse, thanks to a bad habit among certain Ravenclaw students, nobody could be sure what anyone meant by "I can't do it either." Did they really mean they couldn't? Or would they say that now, then suddenly show off some graceful flying technique when the time came?

The habit had only grown worse since "Dumbledore, A Legend" began serialization. Everyone used to do their own thing; now they had to follow the trend and hide what they could do?

But whatever the students thought, time was unfailingly fair. Amid everyone's nerves, Thursday arrived.

"Something feels off... Why do we have to go first?"

Hal spoke gravely over breakfast. Andrew, meanwhile, was content to listen to his Roommates complain—he had already made thorough plans to avoid serious injury.

"Come on, stop complaining. Once you're on a broom, you'll understand the thrill of flying."

Bell was so excited he could barely sit still, and he hardly paid attention to his breakfast.

Before long, with the students still on edge, it was time for Flying class.

"Don't fly too high—as long as I don't die on impact, Madam Pomfrey can put me back together..."

Andrew muttered to reassure himself. He was so distracted he lost his sense of direction and simply followed the group in a daze until they reached the lawn.

The brooms and their Flying class teacher were already waiting.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch, their Flying class teacher, barked. "Everyone stand beside a Broomstick. Quickly, now. We haven't got all day."

Andrew took a deep breath and followed the others to a broom. It looked rather worn and poorly maintained.

"Be firm. Put your hand over the broom—your right hand!

"Then follow me. When I say 'ready,' I'll count to three, and you'll all call out together!

"Ready. One, two, three—up!"

"Up!"

The broom rose into his hand more smoothly than he had imagined. He looked around and saw that quite a few others had managed it too.

So what triggers the command? Emotion? Trust?

Andrew couldn't narrow it down. Ravenclaw students trusted experience, while Hufflepuff students weren't inclined to doubt their teachers. Either could explain it.

Besides, Broomsticks weren't the same sort of object as other Wizarding supplies. He shook his head and set aside the habit of analyzing and drawing conclusions that he had developed lately.

After Madam Hooch repeated the command and led them through it twice more, nearly everyone had summoned their broom into their hand.

Next, she explained how to hold the broom and went around correcting them one by one. For once, Andrew received plenty of criticism.

"You're holding a broom, not a pole you'll fall off if you loosen your grip!

"Relax, relax! You want it to carry you into the sky, not strangle it!

"Watch the angle, the angle! It's a flying broom, not an animal!"

After a string of criticisms, Madam Hooch finally approved of their grips. "All right, listen carefully. When I blow my whistle, push off the ground with both feet at the same time, but not too hard. You mustn't rise more than a few feet. Then lean forward, let your broom carry you ahead at a shallow angle, and return to the ground. Understood?"

"Understood!"

"Good." Madam Hooch seemed pleased with their response. "Ready. Three—two—one!"

The whistle rang out. Andrew pushed off gently, and a soft force carried him upward. He stopped after rising only a short distance.

Curious, he checked how it felt to sit on the broom. Sure enough, just as Bell had said, it felt as though there were a soft cushion beneath him.

Now, pull up...

He adjusted the broom slightly and discovered it was hardly more complicated than riding a bicycle. Pull up, dip down, pull up again...

Simple.

No wonder nobody wrote a book about it.

"Taylor!"

Madam Hooch's voice rang out. "Five points from Ravenclaw."

Only then did Andrew realize he was the only one still in the air. Everyone else had landed. He finally remembered the instruction he had just been given—rise a little, then come back down.

Wasn't lifting your feet off the ground supposed to make you smarter?

Once he knew he could fly, he had got a little carried away, and his brain had stopped working...

He pressed the broom down gently and landed smoothly.

"An excellent start for a new student, and you didn't panic..."

Madam Hooch's expression softened. "All right. Three points to Ravenclaw."

???