Flying Lesson

Flying had always been humanity's greatest dream, and Wade was no exception. In his view, one of the greatest benefits of learning magic was being able to soar freely through the sky. Of course, airplanes could also take people into the air, and they were more comfortable than riding a broomstick or a Pegasus. But without a doubt—the latter was far cooler.

Ravenclaw's Flying Lesson was held with Hufflepuff on Friday afternoon. Before that, Gryffindor and Slytherin had their Flying Lesson on Thursday afternoon.

Starting Monday, all the first-years had been talking endlessly about flying, and Michael was no different.

"Did you know? My most thrilling experience was diving off a cliff on a broomstick and racing an eagle!" Michael held a sausage on his fork and boasted, "We dove from an altitude of thirteen hundred meters and finally came to a stop just fifteen centimeters above the ground! The grass below practically brushed my nose!"

"That's incredible!" Theo at the next table believed him completely and exclaimed, "Michael, you should play Quidditch. You'd definitely be good at the Wronski Feint! Plenty of famous players can't even pull that off!"

Michael's face reddened slightly, but he forced himself to say, "O-of course! I have to say, once Professor Flitwick sees my brilliant performance in Flying Lesson, he might invite me to join the Quidditch team ahead of time!"

"Definitely! You're a genius!" Theo praised loudly.

Michael's face turned even redder.

Some older Ravenclaw girls at the long table watched Michael and giggled, clearly seeing through his lies.

To hide his embarrassment, Michael turned around and said, "Wade, do you need me to give you some flying tips in advance? So you won't get nervous when you get on a broomstick. I'm an expert at this—I was flying around the house on a broomstick before I could even walk."

"Really? I think we could use some advice too." Hermione pulled Neville over and quickly sat beside them, her arms full of books—Quidditch Through the Ages, The Wonder of the Wigtown Wanderers, Flying Like a Madman, and the like.

"You borrowed so many books?" Wade asked in surprise.

"Yes, but they weren't much help." Hermione set the books on the table and said irritably, "Almost all of them are about that barbaric sport, Quidditch. None of them explain how to fly more steadily."

Her words immediately drew the displeasure of the Quidditch fans. Michael raised his eyebrows and said, "Barbaric? Hermione, you probably don't understand yet—Quidditch is the most popular, most exciting sport there is. Everyone loves Quidditch! It has nothing to do with being barbaric! No, I should say—you simply don't understand its wild charm at all!"

"Is that so?" Hermione shot back without the slightest politeness. "But it turned the Golden Snidget into a protected species! It was nearly driven extinct!"

"Quidditch did nothing wrong!" Michael shouted first, then asked curiously, "...What's a Golden Snidget? It sounds a little like a Golden Snitch."

"It's a small, agile bird," Wade said. He had happened to read that part before. "In old Quidditch matches, they would release a Golden Snidget. The game ended whenever a team's Chaser killed the bird. As a result, Golden Snidgets went from being as common as sparrows to extremely rare, and protected reserves had to be established to keep them from going extinct entirely. Although the Golden Snitch was later invented to replace the Golden Snidget, Quidditch teams in some countries seem to have kept the old custom. So even now, Golden Snidgets are still protected animals."

Hermione lifted her chin. "Exactly. So Quidditch is a barbaric sport built upon the lives of countless Golden Snidgets. It's a pity that hardly anyone cares about the poor Golden Snidgets now. They only cheer for that sport that gets people killed!"

The girl had completely forgotten why she had come to sit at this table. Hugging her books, she stormed off in a huff, leaving the boys staring at one another.

After a while, Neville asked timidly, "So... are there any flying tips left?" He said miserably, "I've never flown before. My Grandma wouldn't let me go near a flying broomstick—not even a toy broomstick."

"Ahem, of course." Michael said enthusiastically, "Riding a broomstick is actually very simple. You just grip the handle in front with your hands, then push off hard with both feet, and you can fly. Keeping your balance is the most important thing, and you have to be nimble when turning—different flying broomstick models vary greatly. You'd be lucky if the school's shared brooms included a Shooting Star, but the best one right now is definitely the Nimbus 2000..."

Michael's "flying tips" only lasted two or three sentences. For the rest of the time, he went on and on about the performance of the Nimbus series. Theo was an excellent audience and believed every word. Neville, meanwhile, stared with wide eyes and tried hard to remember everything Michael said, but in the end, there were only a few lines on his paper—grip the handle, push off hard, keep your balance.

Ryan whispered to Wade, "I'm certain Michael has only ever ridden a toy broomstick."

"Why do you say that?" Wade asked. "Have you ridden a real one?"

"I haven't ridden one myself, because my mum wouldn't allow it. She said it was too dangerous." Ryan said, "But my dad has a Comet, and he once held me while flying a few laps in the sky. He said it was already good enough for a beginner to sit steadily on one at first. You can't rush into flying, because flying broomsticks are much faster than toy broomsticks, and they don't have altitude limits either."

He looked at Michael as he talked without pause and shook his head slightly.

"There's nothing to worry about," Wade reassured him. "There'll be a professor there too!"

Although he didn't remember the detailed plot of Harry Potter, he remembered that Neville had his moment to shine in the final battle. What could possibly go wrong in an ordinary Flying Lesson?

Come to think of it, he seemed to remember... there really was a Flying Lesson scene.

Wade stroked his chin, digging through his memories for useful fragments.

Hmm... it seemed Neville had been bullied by Draco? Then Harry Potter stood up for him?

That should be right.

On Thursday afternoon, Ravenclaw only had one Charms Class together with Slytherin. After class, the Slytherins ran excitedly toward the lawn—the place where Flying Lesson was held. Since the Ravenclaws had no more classes afterward, they all went to watch as well.

For once, Wade followed the crowd—after all, it was Flying Lesson. The students gathered in twos and threes along the corridor, pricking up their ears to eavesdrop on Madam Hooch's instructions over at the lesson, hoping to learn something in advance so they would not embarrass themselves in tomorrow's official class.

Before long, they saw Neville—yes, Neville—shoot straight into the sky like a cannonball while everyone else was still standing on the ground!

"Ahhhhhhh—"

A terrified scream rang out from the sky. Then a figure plummeted straight down. Before anyone else could react, he crashed into the grass with a violent bang!

The crowd fell silent.