In the corner, Julien merely raised his eyes slightly upon hearing his name but didn't join the conversation. He genuinely had some reservations about flying—not out of fear, but out of a concern that he might lose control.
His magic was overly sensitive. If his emotions fluctuated while he was in the air, there was no telling what kind of accident he might cause. This was exactly why his grandfather had made him wear a Muggle motorcycle helmet during his flying practice.
Naturally, the book Quidditch for Beginners: For the Novice Who Can't Even Say "Up" Properly sitting in Julien's mental library wasn't just for show. It had provided precise guidance during his flight training.
Of course, Julien hadn't noticed the dedication on the book's title page: Dedicated to all the fools who have been thrown off a broomstick but still believe in flying.
"When it comes to flying, who could possibly beat our Hufflepuff's Cedric Diggory?" Megan Jones chimed in, the light in her eyes revealing her to be yet another of Cedric's fangirls. Surprisingly, even Cho Chang gave a slight nod in agreement.
Not to be outdone, Casen shouted, "Just you wait! I'm going to be the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts history!"
Roger laughed and shook his head as he stood up. "Alright, little dreamers, enough talking from the carpet. Come talk to me about Quidditch when you can actually fly in a circle up there without falling off."
He turned and headed for the stairs, throwing one last comment over his shoulder. "But anyway... try not to fall into the Black Lake today. Madam Pomfrey has a cold right now, and she doesn't have time to look after a bunch of soaking-wet little chicks."
---
The Hogwarts flying pitch was located on a wide, open lawn on the east side of the castle. At either end of the pitch stood three golden goalposts of varying heights, each topped with a hoop. The golden Quidditch stands surrounding the field gleamed in the sunlight, silently beckoning to future heroes.
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first-years lined up in two rows, their eyes shining and their chests puffed out prouder than peacocks. Casen and Edgar had even shown up half an hour early.
Madam Hooch arrived punctually, straddling a Nimbus 1000. Her short, silver-grey hair didn't budge in the wind. Her hawk-like yellow eyes swept over the students, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Alright, little wizards," she said, her voice ringing clear. "I know your heads are currently filled with 'mid-air flips,' 'soaring into the sky,' and maybe even 'Wronski Feints'... but put those fantasies away for now."
She clapped her hands. Two dozen battered school broomsticks gave small hops on the grass, moving to stop in front of each student like a herd of impatient old horses.
"First step," Madam Hooch instructed. "Stick out your right hand over your broom and say clearly, 'Up!'"
"Up!"
"UP!"
"Hurry up, you broken piece of wood!"
The lawn descended into immediate chaos. Some brooms rolled lazily over half a turn, some snapped up and smacked their owners in the nose (leaving Justin clutching his face with teary eyes), and others simply played dead and refused to move.
"There's no need to rush. This movement isn't about looking cool; it's like riding a horse. Every rider must first build a connection with their mount. The broom leaping into your hand means it is willing to let you ride it."
Liriya stood in front of her broom, her expression focused and gentle.
She didn't immediately issue a command. Instead, she crouched down, pressed her palm lightly against the rough handle, and murmured a few words in an ancient Northern dialect—the same language she used to soothe the creatures of the forest.
The broom trembled slightly, then slowly rose to the height of her palm and hovered there steadily.
"Wow!" Hannah gasped. "Liriya, you did it!"
Liriya offered a small smile.
Julien's situation, however, was entirely different. The brooms used for Hogwarts flying lessons were mostly older "Shooting Star" models, and the one Julien had been assigned was the oldest, most unremarkable of the bunch.
Yet, the moment he said "Up," the broom shot up like an arrow released from a bow, smacking into his hand so hard it nearly dragged him off his feet.
Once all the young wizards had summoned their brooms, Madam Hooch instructed them to mount. After ensuring they were seated securely, she told them to push off gently with their feet, slowly leave the ground, and hover smoothly at a low altitude.
This was where Liriya ran into trouble.
The moment her feet left the ground, it was as if her very foundation had been ripped away. Her face instantly went pale, and her fingers gripped the broomstick so tightly her knuckles turned white.
She could sense the pulse of the earth, she could converse with ancient trees... but the sky? To her, the sky was a strange, unmoored, empty void.
"Don't be afraid, Miss Liriya," Madam Hooch walked over, her tone gentle. "I have read your file. I know the earth is your root, but the sky is not your enemy. Try... try to think of it as a flowing forest."
In the original books and movies, Neville's accident made Madam Hooch's teaching seem mediocre at best. But in truth, Madam Hooch really did know her stuff, and she knew how to tailor her teaching to each student.
Liriya listened to Madam Hooch's words, nodded, took a deep breath, and rose steadily into the air. But she only dared to hover a little over head-height off the ground, like a cautious fledgling. Truthfully, this was about the level most of the young wizards were at.
Over on the other side, Casen's broom had obediently taken flight—unfortunately, his directional control was completely off. He had intended to execute a cool, sweeping turn, but the broom surged violently forward, launching him straight into the branches of a nearby willow tree and wedging him in tight.
"Help! I've been kidnapped by a tree!" he wailed.
"The tree is just teaching you humility," Edgar gloated from below.
Just as they managed to rescue Casen from the tree, trouble struck on Julien's end. His feet had barely left the ground when he lightly pulled up on the handle, only for the broom to violently accelerate and shoot forward!
By the time Madam Hooch noticed, Julien had already shot far down the pitch. "Mr. Black! Slow down!" Madam Hooch shouted, panicking internally. Please don't let this be another Neville.
Julien gritted his teeth and tried to pull back on the broom, but it had already carried him halfway around the pitch, moving so fast he was just a blur.
Suddenly, a figure on a broom appeared right in his path—Padma Patil. Julien frantically tried to brake, but his braking distance was clearly far longer than he had anticipated, and he was about to crash right into her. Thankfully, Madam Hooch swooped in on her broom and pulled Padma out of the way.
Madam Hooch had Julien fly another lap and gradually began to see the issue. She led him over to a slightly emptier section of the pitch. Pulling out a ball roughly the size of a basketball from seemingly nowhere, she hurled it forcefully into the distance. "Go chase it! Catch it before it hits the ground!"
Moving incredibly fast, Julien shot forward with a whoosh. Feeling confident he had correctly judged the ball's trajectory, he put on a burst of speed. But by the time he reacted, he had overshot the ball by ten meters and could only watch helplessly as it floated slowly past him from behind.
"Speed is a talent," Madam Hooch said. She waited until he finally managed to brake (which actually involved crashing into a haystack on the edge of the pitch to stop) before walking over and patting him on the shoulder. Her eyes, however, held an undeniable gleam of approval. "But Quidditch isn't just about flying fast. You need to learn... control. You must synchronize your movements with your intentions, rather than letting your magic push you along."
Panting and covered in bits of hay, Julien nodded and couldn't help but laugh. He largely understood what the problem was now. Inside his mind, a new book had just been born: On the Fine Control of Flight: Lessons from a Haystack, which provided him with specific training methods.