Chapter 50: 50: Freedom

It was a bright, breezy day.

As Sean and Justin and the others walked across the sloping grass toward a flat lawn.

The warm breeze, like an invisible hand, sent ripples across the grass.

At the edge of the Quidditch pitch lay the dark, shadowy Forbidden Forest, a place strictly forbidden by Headmaster Dumbledore.

Occasional strange sounds drifted from within, drawing gazes from the young wizards filled with both awe and curiosity.

More than twenty broomsticks were arranged neatly on the ground; they looked old and worn, with some twigs even poking out.

It was no wonder Justin had questions.

"No, because wizards invented the Cushioning Charm. In 1820, the Cushioning Charm invented by Elphias Doge took the creation of more comfortable broomsticks a major step forward," Sean explained softly.

Even though Sean's voice wasn't loud, several nearby young wizards still murmured, "So that's how it is."

Soon, the picturesque, painting-like lawn was filled with a crowd of young wizards in robes.

The sound of rapid footsteps approached, and a brisk-looking woman strode toward them

"Right, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Quick, quick, make haste!"

Her yellow eyes were as sharp as an eagle's, her short gray hair fluttered slightly, and her voice was hurried and sharp.

"They call her Madam Hooch. Besides teaching flying lessons, Madam Hooch also serves as a referee for Hogwarts Quidditch matches," Michael added, popping up from somewhere.

A referee?

Hearing that word, Sean inexplicably thought of a few anecdotes from *Quidditch Through the Ages*

[For centuries, many instances occurred of people tampering with referees' broomsticks. The most dangerous incident involved turning a referee's broomstick into a door key; halfway through a match, the referee was whisked away from the pitch by the broomstick and was actually found in the Sahara Desert months later.]

*A dangerous job,* Sean thought.

"The Comet? Didn't Cosmic Broom Company, the manufacturer, go bankrupt in 1978? Where did Hogwarts get an out-of-print collector's item?!"

Just as he reached the broomsticks, Sean heard Michael's desperate low cry.

This prompted him to take a good look at his own broom.

Fortunately, it was a Cleansweep Seven; at least he could still find a manual for it. As for the other young wizards who had obtained out-of-print collector's items, they would have to fend for themselves.

"Before you use the broomsticks, I must warn you: if anyone attempts to fly up directly, then Mr. Longbottom's yesterday will be your today. He was lucky to only break his wrist, but if luck is not on your side, breaking your neck can happen in an instant!"

The young wizards immediately felt a chill down their necks. One Hufflepuff even clutched his neck in terror, as if he were about to turn into Sir Nicholas at any moment.

"Now, face your broomsticks and say 'Up!' loudly!"

"Up!"

Soon, many impatient young wizards excitedly chanted the spell. Some succeeded on their first try—Justin, for example; his broom bounced twice and landed in his hands.

Others struggled, such as Terry and Michael; their broomsticks either remained motionless or gave a half-hearted, dying bounce.

Sean imitated Madam Hooch's tone

"Up—huh?"

Sean held the broom; it was as docile as a fawn.

This left Sean momentarily stunned. Did he... just finish speaking?

"Right, mount your broomsticks. When I blow my whistle, kick off with both legs and leave the ground. You must kick hard," Madam Hooch shouted.

After waiting for the young wizards to settle in and adjust for a moment, she spoke briskly again

"Hold the broomsticks steady, rise a few feet, then lean your body slightly forward and drop vertically back to the ground. Listen for my whistle—three—two—"

On the broomsticks, the young wizards were quite flustered; some were even trembling all over.

Even among the Ravenclaws, Sean was the calmest.

He didn't intend to fly very high; instead, he was more concerned with how to apply Sir Cadogan's techniques.

"The flight of a broom is driven by the power of a spell... master yourself..."

Sean murmured to himself. After shifting his entire body weight onto the broom, he suddenly felt something faintly.

Whenever the broom veered left or right, there was always a hidden force surging within

"Braking Charm, Levitation Charm, Steering Charm..."

Sean quickly guessed the source of these forces. As he immersed his entire mind into it, Madam Hooch's third command was issued

"One! Whistle—"

A sharp whistle sounded, and the young wizards shot up like raindrops flowing upward toward the sky.

A Ravenclaw suddenly jerked his broom up, screaming as he charged toward the blue sky; fortunately, he wasn't going fast, and Madam Hooch pulled him down with a silent spell.

Another Hufflepuff, however, did the exact opposite; he actually slammed headfirst toward the ground. Fortunately, Madam Hooch reacted quickly and caught him with a bundle of hay.

As for the young wizards falling off their broomsticks like dumplings being dropped into a pot, there were many more of them.

Madam Hooch was sweating profusely, sometimes even being grabbed tightly by a young wizard

"I'm going to fall to my death!"

Madam Hooch gave him a direct splash of water to snap him out of it.

There were five or six young wizards who could fly up and circle a few times, but if one were to fly most smoothly, most decisively, and most elegantly, it was undoubtedly that somewhat pale Ravenclaw.

[You have practiced flying once to a proficient standard, Proficiency +10]

[You have practiced flying once to a proficient standard, Proficiency +10]

...

The panel prompts continued to ring, and Sean's flying became increasingly practiced.

He could feel that faint magic, and at the same time, the mystery behind the magic.

It was a simple manipulation: if you wanted to turn left, you had to use your magic to guide the leftward Steering Charm within the broom; if you wanted to stop, you had to touch the Braking Charm with a thread of magic.

Magic—or rather, a faint magic that follows the will—was like a key that made the flying broom "obedient."

What Sean did not know was that because broomsticks possess their own braking mechanisms, most young wizards were merely using the broomsticks as tools.

The kind of control he possessed was what only Quidditch players required.

They called it "being in sync with your companion."

"Is that... Sean?"

Michael rode his broom tremblingly. Even though the flying height wasn't high, it still left him somewhat terrified.

Looking up at that free "bird" in the sky, he found it hard to believe for a moment.

[You have practiced flying once to a proficient standard, Proficiency +10]

[Flying Skill Unlocked]

[New Flying Domain Title Unlocked, please check]

[A Wizard Talent Unlocked, please check]

The panel prompts rang incessantly. Sean had never felt so free.

For his frail body, running and jumping were words of luxury.

But the flying broom allowed him to once again feel the whistling wind rushing past his ears.

He felt a passion igniting in his heart, like the crackling fireplace in the dilapidated hall of the orphanage.

(End of Chapter)