Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God

Flying has always been one of humanity's greatest dreams, and Wade was no exception. 

In his view, one of the biggest benefits of learning magic was the ability to soar freely in the sky. 

Of course, taking an airplane could also get you airborne and was more comfortable than riding a broomstick or a Pegasus. But without a doubt— the latter is way cooler.

Ravenclaw's flying lessons were held together with Hufflepuff on Friday afternoons. Before that, on Thursday afternoons, Gryffindor and Slytherin had their flying lessons.

Since Monday, all the first-year students had been talking non-stop about flying, and Michael was no exception.

"Do you know? The most thrilling experience I ever had was when I dove off a cliff on a broomstick, racing against an eagle!" Michael said boastfully with a sausage skewered on his fork. 

"We dove from a height of 1,300 meters and finally hovered just 15 centimeters above the ground! The grass on the ground could almost touch my nose!"

"That's amazing, right?" Theo from the next table believed him and exclaimed, "Michael, you should play Quidditch. You must be great at the Wronski Feint! Many famous players can't even pull that off!"

Michael blushed slightly, but forced himself to say, "Of course! I must say, once Professor Flitwick sees my brilliant performance in flying class, he might even invite me to join the Quidditch team early!"

"Definitely! You're a genius!" Theo praised loudly.

Michael's face turned even redder.

At the long table, some older Ravenclaw girls were watching Michael, giggling softly, clearly having seen through his lies.

To cover his embarrassment, Michael turned around and said:

"Wade, do you need me to give you some flying tips in advance? So you won't feel nervous when you get on a broom. 

I'm an expert at this; I was flying on a broom at home before I could even walk."

"Really? I think we could use some tips too." Hermione quickly pulled Neville over and sat down beside them, holding a pile of books in her arms—titles like [Quidditch Through the Ages], [The Miracle of the Wigtown Wanderers], [He Flew Like a Madman], and others.

"You borrowed so many books?" Wade asked in surprise.

"Yes, but they haven't been much help," Hermione said, placing the books on the table with a frustrated tone. "These books are almost all about Quidditch, that barbaric sport, and barely mention how to fly more smoothly."

The girl's words immediately drew dissatisfaction from the Quidditch fans. 

Michael raised an eyebrow and said: "Barbaric? Hermione, you probably don't understand yet—Quidditch is the most popular and exciting sport, and everyone loves it! It has nothing to do with barbarism! 

No, actually—what you don't understand is its wild charm!"

"Is that so?" Hermione retorted bluntly, "But Quidditch is responsible for making the Golden Snidget a protected species! on the brink of extinction!"

"Quidditch is not to blame!" Michael shouted defensively, then asked curiously, "What's a Golden Snidget? It sounds a bit like a Golden Snitch?"

"It's a small, agile bird," Wade explained, as he had just read about this topic earlier. 

"In the old days of Quidditch, a Golden Snidget would be released during matches, and the game would end when a team's Seeker killed the bird. 

As a result, the Golden Snidget's numbers dwindled from being as common as sparrows to being extremely rare. They had to create sanctuaries to prevent the species from going extinct. 

Although the Golden Snitch was later invented to replace the Golden Snidget, some Quidditch teams in certain countries still retain the old customs. So, even now, the Golden Snidget remains a protected species."

Hermione lifted her chin and said, "Exactly. So, Quidditch is a barbaric sport built on the lives of countless Golden Snidgets. It's a shame that nowadays, hardly anyone cares about the poor Snidgets; they only cheer for this deadly sport!"

The girl had completely forgotten why she had come to this table in the first place. Hugging her books, she left angrily, leaving the boys at the table exchanging bewildered glances.

After a moment, Neville timidly asked, "So... about those flying tips... are there any left?" He added worriedly, "I've never flown before. My grandmother won't let me near a broomstick—not even a toy one."

"Ahem, of course," Michael said enthusiastically:

"Riding a broom is actually quite simple. You just need to grab the stick in front of you with your hands, then push off the ground with your feet, and you'll be airborne. 

The most important thing is to maintain your balance. When turning, you need to be agile—there's a big difference between different models of flying brooms. 

If the school's public brooms have even one 'Cleansweep Seven,' that would be great, but the best by far is definitely the Nimbus 2000..."

Michael's "flying tips" only consisted of two or three sentences. The rest of the time, he was going on and on about the performance of the Nimbus series. 

Theo was hanging on every word, believing everything he said. 

Meanwhile, Neville, with wide, round eyes, tried hard to write down everything Michael was saying, but in the end, only managed a few lines: "Grip the handle, push off the ground, keep your balance."

Ryan quietly whispered to Wade, "I'm sure Michael has only ever ridden a toy broom."

"Why do you say that?" Wade asked, "Have you ridden a real one?"

"I haven't ridden one myself because my mom says it's too dangerous," Ryan replied. 

"But my dad has a Comet broom, and he once flew a few laps in the air with me in his arms. 

He said that for beginners, it's good enough just to sit on the broom steadily at first. You shouldn't rush into flying because a flying broom is much faster than a toy broom, and it doesn't have any height limits."

He glanced at Michael, who was still talking excitedly, and shook his head slightly.

"There's nothing to worry about," Wade reassured him. "The professor will be there too!"

Although he couldn't recall the detailed plot of "Harry Potter", he remembered that Neville had a shining moment in the final battle. 

What can possibly go wrong in an ordinary flying lesson?

Speaking of which, if I recall correctly... There does seem to be a plot involving a flying lesson.

Wade stroked his chin, trying to dig up useful fragments from his memory.

Hmm... it seems like Neville was bullied by Draco? And then Harry Potter stood up for him?

That should be the case.

On Thursday afternoon, Ravenclaw had only one Charms class with Slytherin. 

After class, the Slytherins excitedly ran to the lawn—the place where the flying lessons were held. The Ravenclaws didn't have any more classes afterward, so they all decided to go watch.

Wade, who rarely joined the crowd, decided to go along this time—after all, it was a flying lesson. 

The students gathered in small groups in the corridor, straining their ears to eavesdrop on Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, hoping to pick up some tips in advance to avoid embarrassing themselves in their own lesson the next day.

Before long, they saw Neville—yes, Neville—while everyone else was still on the ground, that boy shot straight up into the sky like a cannonball!

"Ahhhhh—"

A terrified scream echoed from the sky, and then a figure plummeted straight down. Before anyone could react, he crashed violently into the bushes with a loud "thud"!

The crowd fell silent.

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