Chapter 88: Flying Test

Neville clearly hadn’t expected someone to wait quietly in one place for over ten minutes.

When he cautiously turned his head, he still saw Wizard Sean’s calm face.

His expression, on the verge of tears, nearly broke into full sobs.

Wizard Sean sat down gently, turning the book in his hand into a blue cushion.

The study of Transfiguration and spellwork was once again elevated to the top of his priorities.

His intermediate Transfiguration skills were still insufficient; if he could reach [Expert], he thought, he could turn his desk entirely into a wild boar.

As for spells, Transfiguration compensated for his lack of offensive options.

Although his strongest offensive spell at the moment seemed to be the Disarming Charm, not Transfiguration.

But Wizard Sean rarely intended to use it—after all, his own buffs were already plentiful enough.

Not using it didn’t mean he couldn’t learn it; the more bottom-tier spells he had, the better.

As for defense, he still lacked something, so he selected a near-universal defensive spell—Finite Incantatem.

The spell was classified in the book as a defensive charm, complementing protective spells like Protego.

Professor Snape first demonstrated this spell during the Hogwarts Dueling Club in their second year, halting the spell duel between Harry and Malfoy.

In Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Hermione used it to dispel the enchanted Bludger’s pursuit.

Thus, its difficulty was clearly not on the same level as Protego.

Simpler than Protego yet equally practical, it was undeniably an excellent choice.

“You just taught me the Levitation Charm, and I failed again. I—I think, Wizard Sean… maybe I’m just not a wizard at all…”

Neville’s voice was low; perhaps because Wizard Sean had guided him repeatedly on the Levitation Charm, or because Wizard Sean had never mocked him, Neville spoke more than usual.

“They say I’m timid and clueless—they’re right… I always forget things, I can hardly do anything well…”

Wizard Sean listened in silence; the oak staircase creaked faintly beneath his feet, like the snores of a sleeping giant.

A magical lantern hung down, its light a flowing, honey-gold glow that softened gradually with the deepening night, warmly enveloping this small corner of the world.

Neville was huddled on the wide step at the landing, murmuring to himself, while Wizard Sean listened quietly.

“Your Levitation Charm failed…”

Wizard Sean said.

Neville had already pulled his head down, as if waiting for the inevitable disdain and mockery.

“So, shall we try again?”

Wizard Sean’s voice was soft; his face remained blurred in the gentle light, for glistening trails were streaming down Neville’s cheeks.

Inside the room.

“Alright, alright, just wait a moment longer.”

Jia Jia Siting paced anxiously back and forth.

He had been observing since Wizard Sean’s first encounter with this Longbottom.

This Longbottom was a kind Gryffindor—he was certain of that. And he wasn’t as cowardly as the Slytherins mocked him to be.

After Malfoy stole his memory orb and Harry retrieved it, Neville, prompted by Harry, even dared to retort:

“You’re a coward!”

Malfoy said.

“Oh, Harry says I’m not a coward—you are.”

That was Neville’s reply.

From then on, Jia Jia Siting knew this Longbottom harbored hidden courage—he simply… needed guidance.

He had assumed Harry would be that person, but Longbottom kept seeking out Wizard Sean instead.

“Maybe you two should come inside to practice?”

Wizard Sean heard a thump; Jia Jia Siting leaned against the doorway, holding a platter of fried meat and a pile of pudding.

Hermione lifted her nose and nodded:

“It’s cold outside, Wizard Sean—if you catch another cold—!”

…

Another Gryffindor had joined the classroom; now, the scene Wizard Sean saw most daily was Hermione urgently tutoring Longbottom.

Jia Jia Siting seemed to have moved into the kitchen; occasionally, he’d bring back magical plants from the greenhouse and bake bizarre foods.

For example, the Flavor Pudding—this was what Jia Jia Siting called it, randomly combining six pudding flavors.

Hermione gave Jia Jia Siting a withering look, then unhesitatingly ate two portions.

Saturday morning.

Wizard Sean sat on the lawn, holding Professor McGonagall’s notes; the Black Black Lake to the south of the castle was like a still mirror—he knew Hogwarts’ drainage system ultimately emptied here.

The Black Lake was home to the Giant Squid, Grindylows, and a merpeople colony.

Hmm, some even claimed the Giant Squid was Gryffindor himself—Wizard Sean didn’t know if that was true.

A black dot suddenly appeared in the azure sky, drawing nearer; Wizard Sean stood up.

“Madam Hooch.”

He said.

“Good morning, lad!”

Madam Hooch dismounted her broom with elegant efficiency, stirring a breeze that smoothed the emerald grass.

“Flying tests begin tomorrow afternoon. Remember to retrieve your broom. If you can, sleep with it…”

Madam Hooch wasn’t joking; some Quidditch players had nearly married their brooms.

There was even a wizard in Italy who tried to marry his broom—unsurprisingly, his request was denied.

Still, no matter what, a wizard more familiar with his broom held a real advantage in flight.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Wizard Sean waved his wand; the cushion on the lawn turned back into a book, and the scattered quills and parchment were summoned and neatly tucked into his bag.

October was growing colder; if young wizards sweated and didn’t change clothes promptly, they easily caught colds.

Having experienced the misery of being clueless, Wizard Sean wouldn’t repeat his mistakes—he followed Madam Hooch’s directions straight to the changing room.

Passing the Gryffindor changing room, Wizard Sean saw them in session:

Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, held up a large diagram of the Quidditch pitch, marked with colored lines, arrows, and crosses.

He tapped his wand against the board; the arrows began to crawl like caterpillars across the map.

Then he loudly explained tactics to his team—they’d begin training after tomorrow’s flying test, ending with:

“Crush Slytherin! Hufflepuff doesn’t matter! With Potter, Ravenclaw isn’t a threat! This year’s Quidditch Cup will bear our name—we’ve got the greatest team ever!”

He was clearly a Quidditch fanatic.

Wizard Sean, who had no desire to be involved with Quidditch, quickly left the changing room and retrieved his Firebolt 2000 from Madam Hooch.

In his mind, he already pictured himself never climbing stairs again—flying straight into Ravenclaw Tower.