บท 17: 17
Chapter 17: Flying Lesson
Flying had always been a dream for humanity, and Wade was no exception. To him, one of the greatest joys of learning magic was the ability to soar freely through the skies. Sure, airplanes could also get you up there, and in greater comfort than a broomstick or flying horse, but there was no denying—the latter was infinitely cooler.
Ravenclaw's flying lessons were scheduled for Friday afternoons, shared with Hufflepuff. Gryffindor and Slytherin had their turns on Thursday afternoons.
From Monday onwards, the chatter among the first-years was all about flying, and Michael was no exception.
"You know what? My most exhilarating experience involved racing an eagle while riding a broomstick down a cliff!" Michael boasted, a sausage skewered on his fork. "We started from 1,300 meters up, swooping down until we hovered just fifteen centimeters above ground! The grass nearly tickled my nose!"
"That's amazing!" Theo at the adjacent table exclaimed, fully believing him. "Michael, you should try out for Quidditch. You'd ace Wronski Feints! Even top players struggle with those!"
Michael blushed slightly, mustering, "Absolutely! After Professor Flitwick sees my spectacular skills in flying class, he might just recruit me for the Quidditch team early. Fingers crossed!"
"Absolutely! You're a genius!" Theo cheered.
Michael blushed deeper.
Across the long table, senior Ravenclaw girls exchanged amused glances, clearly seeing through his exaggeration.
To divert attention from his embarrassment, Michael turned to Wade. "Wade, need some flying tips beforehand? So you won't feel jittery on the broom. I'm quite the expert, you know. Been zooming around on broomsticks since before I could walk."
"Really? We could use some pointers too," Hermione chimed in, pulling Neville over and settling beside Wade, her arms laden with books: "Quidditch Through the Ages", "Quaffle Production", "The Quidditch Wars", and the like.
"You borrowed so many books?" Wade asked, surprised.
"Yeah, but they're not very helpful," Hermione lamented, placing them on the table. "Most are about the rough and tumble of Quidditch, not the finer points of flying smoothly."
Her comment sparked indignation among Quidditch enthusiasts. Michael raised an eyebrow, countering, "Rough? Hermione, you might not get it yet. Quidditch is the most beloved and thrilling sport. Everyone adores Quidditch! It's not about savagery—it's about its wild allure!"
"Really?" Hermione challenged, undeterred. "But it's endangered the Golden Snidget, nearly wiping it out!"
"Nothing's wrong with Quidditch!" Michael retorted before asking curiously, "...Wait, what's a Golden Snidget? Sounds a bit like the Golden Snitch?"
"It was a small bird that flew swiftly," Wade recalled, having read about it before. "In early Quidditch, a Golden Snidget was released. When a team's Seeker caught it, the game ended. They became so rare from being as common as sparrows that protected areas were set up to save them from extinction. Even after the Golden Snitch was invented to replace them, some countries still hold onto their old customs, so the Golden Snidget remains a protected species."
Hermione lifted her chin. "Exactly. Quidditch, a sport that endangered countless Golden Snidgets, has people cheering for it. It's a shame so few care about the poor creatures today."
Having forgotten why she sat down, Hermione stormed off with her books, leaving the boys staring at each other in silence.
After a pause, Neville spoke tentatively. "Um... any more tips, Professor... for flying?" He furrowed his brow. "I've never flown before. My grandmother won't let me near a broomstick—never even a toy one."
"Of course," Michael enthused. "Riding a broom is actually quite simple. Grip the handle in front, push off hard with your feet, and you're airborne. It's all about balance and maneuvering—broomstick models vary greatly. If only the school's brooms could be as sleek as the Cleansweep Seven, though the Nimbus 2000 is top-notch for now..."
Michael's "flying instructions" spanned just a few sentences, the rest a detailed exposition on Nimbus models. Theo nodded along fervently, hanging on his every word. Neville stared wide-eyed, struggling to jot down notes, eventually reducing it to [Grip handle, push off, maintain balance]on his paper.
Ryan leaned towards Wade, whispering, "I bet Michael's only ever flown toy brooms."
"Why's that?" Wade inquired. "Have you flown a real one yourself?"
"Never on my own—my mum forbade it, saying it's too risky," Ryan confessed. "But my dad owned a Comet. He took me up a few times, holding me tight. He warned, it's easy to lose control on a real broomstick. No flying unless you're steady on it. They're faster than toy brooms and have no height limits."
Observing Michael's animated lecture, Ryan shook his head.
"No need to worry," Wade reassured him. "The professor's right there!"
Though he couldn't recall the specifics from "Harry Potter", Wade vaguely recalled Neville's standout moment in the final battle. How much trouble could a regular flying lesson stir up?
Come to think of it, there was something about flying lessons in his memory.
Wade stroked his chin, trying to extract useful fragments.
Hmm... Wasn't Neville bullied by Draco? Then Harry Potter stood up for him?
That sounds about right.
On Thursday afternoon, Ravenclaw had only one Charms class with Slytherin. Post-class, Slytherins eagerly headed to the lawn—the venue for flying lessons. With no subsequent classes, Ravenclaws tagged along, curious.
Wade rarely joined large groups, but this was flying class. Students gathered in corridors, eavesdropping on Madame Hooch's instructions, hoping for a leg-up before the formal lesson the next day.
It didn't take long for them to spot Neville—yes, Neville—zooming skyward like a cannonball while others were still grounded!
"Ahhh—"
Screams of horror rang out, followed swiftly by a plummeting figure. Before anyone could react, a thud sounded as he hit the grass!
Silence enveloped the onlookers.
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