What did flying feel like?
Freedom... no restraints... high in the boundless sky, with only the wind and white clouds for company.
Air currents swept past, lifting his hair in a lingering caress. Wisps of cloud kissed his cheeks, and in that moment his heart became as open as the sky. It was release at its deepest, born of the yearning for the heavens buried in the human soul.
Harry lay low over his broom, pressing his body down as far as he could. The broom beneath him seemed to have become part of his body.
So effortless. So wonderful.
This was his Nimbus 2000, the broom he had flown for four years. In all that time, Harry had never missed a single maintenance session. He cherished this broom more than he cared for himself.
He knew every curve, every twig.
Countless times, he had mounted it and soared through the sky.
The wind still roared in his ears, but Harry seemed unable to feel anything anymore. Everything in his vision blurred. The sky lost its definition, and the spectators around him seemed to become streaks of different colors.
Only one figure ahead remained exceptionally clear. Who was that again?
Harry felt that something must have gone wrong with his brain, because he could not remember who the person ahead was, or what he was supposed to be doing.
There was only one voice in his heart-catch him!
Never before had Ludo been this excited. Even the Wimbourne Wasps' spectacular comeback victory could not compare with what he was witnessing today.
He had a feeling that what he was watching would be the greatest duel in the entire history of flying.
Perhaps, over the long span of history, there had been people more skilled than these two, but a