Chapter 48: Flight Lesson Assessment

In the corridor.

Sir Cadogan had been struggling for years to mount the miniature horse in the painting.

Unfortunately,

he had failed to do so after countless years.

So he rode his horse while rambling on to Wizard Sean about Quidditch,

and when he grew excited, he slapped the horse’s rump—only to be kicked into a shrimp-like curl and flung far away.

Wizard Sean silently prayed for him, then opened his panel:

【Name: Wizard Sean Green】

【Title: Potion Novice】

【Slightly increases perception of potions, slightly enhances potion talent】

As expected, Wizard Sean nodded slightly and continued reading.

【Wizard Wizard Sean, Potion Talent: Green (Potion Novice title has boosted original talent from White). Note: Average wizards are Green.】

【Advancement: Three beginner-level potion brews will unlock the beginner-level Potion title.】

Wizard Sean wasn’t sure if it was psychological, but the moment his potion talent changed,

memories of his previous brews suddenly brought forth new ideas,

ideas that had never occurred to him during earlier potion-making.

Wizard Sean thought magic might be such a wondrous thing—

it resided in a wizard’s bloodline, granting miracles capable of altering reality,

and wizards with sufficient talent could inherit faint, elusive knowledge from that bloodline.

Otherwise, it was hard to explain how those vague, experiential books in the magical world taught young wizards.

As Wizard Sean pondered this, he slowly lifted his head.

The portraits along the corridor were nearly all dozing.

The slanting afternoon sun shone through the Gothic stained-glass windows, illuminating Sir Cadogan’s incessant face.

No wonder the knight kept bothering him—everyone else was napping.

“Wizard Sean!”

At that moment, Jia Jia Siting appeared in the drowsy sunlight, seemingly materializing from nowhere,

and casually placed a plate of what looked like delicious British layer cake into Wizard Sean’s hands.

“New flavor… please try it for me,”

his gray-blue eyes narrowed.

“Oh, one more thing—Gryffindor and Slytherin’s flying lesson just started; maybe we should go watch?

Hermione and I spent all day studying techniques—I wonder if she put any of them to use…”

…

It was five-thirty in the afternoon.

Wizard Sean and Jia Jia Siting walked down a sloping lawn to a spot offering a clear view of the Quidditch pitch.

The view was excellent: they could see all the young wizards in class, the shimmering Heihu, and the vast patch of pumpkins before Hagrid’s hut.

“Look, Hermione seems to be flying well,

oh, that black-haired Gryffindor is doing fine too—wait, who’s that? How did he shoot up so high all at once?!”

Jia Jia Siting stared wide-eyed as a chubby wizard shot straight into the sky, muttering to himself,

“Is this some kind of special training?”

Clearly not.

Because after circling high above, Longbottom suddenly screamed in terror as his broom zipped past a statue,

but Longbottom did not follow—

his robes had caught on the statue’s weapon, leaving him dangling helplessly in midair.

As everyone held their breath watching this dramatic scene, Madam Hooch began casting a spell,

when Longbottom let out another shriek—his robes had torn under his own weight!

Then came muffled cries of “Ah!”, “Ow!”, “Oh!”

Longbottom crashed onto a torch, then a wall, and finally slammed hard onto the ground.

“Will he survive?”

Jia Jia Siting’s voice carried concern.

“He’ll be fine.”

Wizard Sean murmured reassurance—he remembered correctly that from such a height, Neville had only broken his wrist.

This speaks to wizards’ far superior physical resilience; Wizard Sean even suspected the brooms might have no protective charms at all,

and wizards relied entirely on their own bodies to withstand wind resistance and execute high-speed maneuvers.

Recall that in 1967, the Nimbus 1000 reached 100 miles per hour,

and by the 1990s, the Firebolt’s ashwood handle allowed speeds up to 150 miles per hour,

while the Bludgers chasing players were even faster.

With such terrifying kinetic energy, Hogwarts’ worst accidents had merely shattered a few chins—nothing more.

Wizards were practically superhumans.

“Alright.”

Jia Jia Siting turned his worry toward Hermione, silently praying she wouldn’t go flying up,

and in the meantime, he slipped Wizard Sean two chocolate chip cookies.

Though flight was humanity’s dream, after witnessing this,

Wizard Sean reevaluated the flying lesson and realized its danger rivaled that of Potions class,

it was hard to imagine wizards were expected to fly immediately after just hearing Madam Hooch’s brief explanation,

with no demonstration or trial flights at all.

What was the difference between learning a few driving tips and then hitting the road?

Wizards really were tough as leather…

But Wizard Sean couldn’t afford that. If he fell from a height,

it wouldn’t just be bruises—he’d be in pieces.

…

The flying lesson ended soon. After carefully observing Madam Hooch’s technique,

Wizard Sean and Jia Jia Siting easily reunited with a shaken Hermione.

“How are you feeling, Hermione?”

Jia Jia Siting handed her a cup of honey lemon tea, steaming hot.

Wizard Sean glanced at him in mild surprise—

where had he gotten that?

“Not great…”

Hermione sipped the lemon tea and relaxed slightly.

“If you two get on brooms tomorrow, the most important thing is not to fall off. As for flying… did you see Neville?”

“You’re right.”

Jia Jia Siting nodded in agreement.

Inside the castle, Wizard Sean continued pondering Madam Hooch’s flying technique.

Learning to ride a broom was equally important, especially now that Wizard Sean had unlocked his Potion title.

He had already collected five scholarship fragments—only Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts remained.

Herbology wasn’t difficult; just follow the steps.

That left only the one remaining subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts.

If Professor Quirrell wasn’t reliable, surely there was another competent professor, right?

Wizard Sean thought.

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

Arriving at the Great Hall,

Hermione and Jia Jia Siting were discussing the thrilling flying lesson,

while Wizard Sean caught a peculiar voice.

“Having your last meal, Potter? When are you returning to the Muggles by train?”

This made Jia Jia Siting and Hermione frown simultaneously; they turned toward the Gryffindor table.

“Now that you’re back on the ground with your little friends around you, your courage has grown.”

They heard Harry say coldly.

“I’m willing to duel you alone anytime,”

Malfoy said,

“If you have no objections, tonight—wizard’s duel, wands only—no physical contact.

What’s the matter? I suppose you’ve never heard of a wizard’s duel?”

"He's certainly heard of him."

Ron, beside him, suddenly turned around,

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

"Oh no—"

Hermione puffed out her cheeks and said irritably,

"How many points do they plan to deduct from Gryffindor?"