Chapter 48: Flight Class Evaluation

In the corridor.

Sir Cadogan had been struggling to mount the pony in his portrait,

but unfortunately,

he had spent countless years attempting this feat without success.

Thus, while riding the horse, he continued to talk incessantly to Sean about Quidditch.

When he reached a point of excitement, he slapped the horse's rump, only to be kicked into a shrimp-like shape and sent flying far away.

Sean offered a silent prayer for him and turned to open his panel

【Name: Sean Green】

【Title: Potions Novice】

【Effect: Slightly increases perception of potions; slightly improves potion talent】

As expected, Sean nodded slightly and continued reading.

【Wizard: Sean; Potion Talent: Green (Enhanced by 'Potions Novice' title; original talent was White). Note: Average wizards are Green.】

【Progression: Brew three entry-level potions to unlock the 'Entry-level Potion Master' title.】

Sean wasn't sure if it was a psychological effect, but the moment his potion talent changed,

recalling his previous brewing sessions, many ideas suddenly surged into his mind—

ideas that had never appeared during his previous attempts.

Sean thought that perhaps magic was such a miraculous thing—

it existed within a wizard's bloodline, bringing miracles capable of altering reality.

A sufficiently talented wizard could even inherit vague fragments of knowledge from this bloodline.

If it weren't so, it would be difficult to explain how those hazy books of experience in the wizarding world taught young wizards.

With these thoughts in mind, Sean slowly raised his head.

Almost all the portraits in the corridor were dozing.

The setting sun filtered through the Gothic stained-glass windows, illuminating Sir Cadogan's chattering face.

No wonder the knight had come to bother him; it turned out everyone was napping.

"Sean!"

Just then, Justin appeared in the lazy sunlight. He seemed to have emerged from nowhere,

naturally placing a delicious-looking English mille-feuille into Sean's hands.

"A new flavor... please, give it a taste,"

his grayish-blue eyes squinted.

"Oh, one more thing, Gryffindor and Slytherin's flying lessons have only just begun. Perhaps we could go watch?

Hermione and I spent the whole day researching techniques earlier; I wonder if she'll be able to use them..."

...

It was now 5:30 PM.

Sean and Justin walked along a sloping lawn to a spot with a clear view of the Quidditch pitch.

The view here was excellent; not only could they see the young wizards currently in class, but they could also see the shimmering Black Lake and the vast pumpkin patch in front of Hagrid's hut.

"Look, Hermione seems to be flying quite well.

Oh, that black-haired Gryffindor is also—no, wait, who is that? How did he fly so high in an instant?!"

Justin's eyes widened as he watched a chubby wizard soar toward the sky. He muttered to himself,

"Is this some kind of special training?"

Clearly, it was not.

Because after Mr. Longbottom circled in the air for a while, accompanied by a terrified scream, his broom sped past a statue,

but Mr. Longbottom did not.

His clothes had snagged on the statue's weapon, leaving him dangling high in the air.

Just as everyone held their breath watching this heart-stopping scene and Madam Hooch began to chant a spell,

Mr. Longbottom let out another cry—his clothes were tearing under his weight!

This was followed by muffled shouts of "Ah!", "Ouch!", and "Oh!"

Mr. Longbottom struck a torch, then a wall, and finally crashed heavily onto the ground.

"Is he going to be alright?"

Justin's voice was laced with worry.

"He'll be fine."

Sean comforted him in a low voice. If he remembered correctly, even after falling from such a height, Neville had only broken his wrist.

This brought up the fact that wizards possessed physical constitutions far superior to ordinary people. Sean even suspected that there might not be any protective charms on the brooms at all;

wizards relied entirely on their own bodies to endure wind resistance and perform high-difficulty maneuvers at extreme speeds.

One must realize that in 1967, the speed of a Nimbus 1000 was 100 miles per hour,

and in the 1990s, the Firebolt used ash wood handles and reached speeds of 150 miles per hour,

not to mention the Chasers' Bludgers, which were only getting faster.

With such terrifying kinetic energy involved in collisions, the most serious accidents at Hogwarts were merely one or two people having their jaws shattered, nothing more.

Wizards were practically superheroes.

"Alright then."

Justin turned to look worriedly at Hermione, praying she wouldn't fly off into the sky.

At the same time, he made time to shove two chocolate chip cookies into Sean's hand.

Although flight was a human dream, after witnessing this,

Sean re-evaluated flying lessons and suddenly realized that this class was no less dangerous than Potions.

It was hard to imagine that after merely listening to Madam Hooch's explanations, wizards were expected to fly on their own.

There wasn't even a demonstration or a test flight.

How was this any different from reading a few driving tips and then hitting the road?

Wizards really were thick-skinned...

But Sean was not. If he fell from a height,

it wouldn't just be bruises; he would be in pieces.

...

The flying lesson ended soon. After carefully observing Madam Hooch's flying techniques,

Sean and Justin successfully reunited with a shaken Hermione.

"Are you feeling okay, Hermione?"

Justin handed her a cup of honey lemon tea, still steaming hot.

Sean glanced at him in slight surprise.

Where did he get that from?

"Not really..."

Hermione took a sip of the lemon tea, relaxing slightly.

"I have to say, if you're getting on brooms tomorrow, the most important thing is not to fall off. As for flying... did you see Neville?"

"You're right."

Justin nodded in agreement.

As they walked into the castle, Sean was still pondering Madam Hooch's flying techniques.

Learning to ride a broom was equally important, especially after Sean unlocked his Potions title.

He had now collected five Scholarship Fragments, leaving only Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Herbology wasn't difficult; one just had to follow the steps.

That left only the single subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts.

If Professor Quirrell wasn't reliable, there would eventually be a reliable professor, right?

Sean thought,

Hogwarts had more than one professor skilled in Dark Arts and their counter-spells.

Arriving at the Great Hall,

Hermione and Justin were discussing the thrilling flying incident,

while Sean overheard some distinct voices.

"Are you having your last meal, Potter? When are you taking the train back to the Muggles?"

The sentence made Justin and Hermione frown almost simultaneously as they looked toward the Gryffindor table.

"Now that you're back on the ground with your little friends by your side, you've grown quite brave,"

they heard Harry say coldly.

"I'm willing to duel you anytime, alone,"

Malfoy said.

"If you don't mind, let's do it tonight. A wizard's duel, wands only—no contact.

What's the matter? I suppose you've never heard of a wizarding duel before?"

"Of course he has,"

Ron said from the side, suddenly turning around.

"I'm his assistant. Who's yours?"

"Oh, no—"

Hermione puffed out her cheeks and said irritably,

"Just how many points are they trying to take away from Gryffindor?"

(End of Chapter)