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Chapter 88: William's (Embarrassing) Flying Lesson
2022-07-14 Author: I'm Just a Pigeon
"Not good at it?"
When William honestly admitted he had barely touched a flying broomstick, Professor Kettleburn exclaimed in astonishment.
What followed was the genuine experience of being the center of attention—everyone present was a professor, and without exception, they all had a penchant for teaching.
"Professor William, there's no need to be nervous. The broomstick is very obedient. You just need to stand in front of it."
"Exactly, exactly. Extend your right hand, place it beside the broom, and just shout 'Up!'" another professor chimed in enthusiastically.
*Why do you all look like you're just here for the entertainment? Just like the audience members who spam instructions during a livestream...*
Surrounded by a group of professors, William enjoyed the most luxurious faculty lineup in the entire British Wizarding World—if only they weren't teaching a flying lesson, William felt he could have cried with happiness.
But now, as it was hard to go against the will of the crowd, William could only obediently listen as the group of professors critiqued his stance.
"Alright, you've got all the key points down, haven't you, little William?"
Professor Kettleburn's excited expression made William feel as if he were about to take a winning penalty kick. *It's just flying, it's not that serious, Professor!*
But Professor Kettleburn clearly couldn't hear William's inner complaints. He happily slapped his partial arm with his remaining hand. "Are you ready? Counting down now—three, two, one, go!"
"Up!"
William suppressed his sense of shame and shouted the command in front of a crowd of professors.
Then, the broomstick did a somersault on the spot and rolled over, going from vertical to horizontal.
...
"Hahahaha!"
The surrounding professors stared blankly for a moment, then burst into roaring laughter in unison.
"Well, it seems it's on strike."
William shrugged and spread his arms in an exaggerated gesture—at a time like this, as long as he wasn't embarrassed, the embarrassment couldn't touch him.
"Madam Hooch, should I get a new broom, or keep trying to get this one to work?"
Madam Hooch was one of the few who hadn't laughed—as the flying professor, she had seen countless first-year failures.
"Just keep trying, Professor William. Very few people succeed on their first try."
It took about ten minutes for William to successfully master flying. To be more precise, his skill was less than that of a novice—he had barely reached the doorstep. He was now able to fly two meters off the ground.
—
"Alright, it seems Professor William won't be able to join our game for the time being. Madam Hooch, you can be the Beater."
After watching William's ten-minute-long effort, Professor Kettleburn extended a very solemn invitation to Madam Hooch.
All the professors who decided to participate rose to a height of ten meters. Even the spectators mounted their brooms and flew to the same altitude. William had thought the professors would find riding a broomstick embarrassing, but now it seemed everyone viewed them like bicycles.
"Professor William, have your wand ready so you can save yourself if the broom goes out of control. At the same time, make sure the broom doesn't fly off and hurt a student. Two meters is the best height for a beginner. If you go too high, an out-of-control broom becomes impossible to handle."
Singeade gave this earnest instruction, then flew up to ten meters on his broom.
...
*What? Do newbies have no rights?*
William grumbled internally as he watched the crowd ascend into the sky.
He then began testing his broom in the air, flying straight, accelerating, braking, and turning, having a grand time all by himself.
*Fine, don't include me. Flying is still a lot of fun.*
After flying for a while, William grew a little dissatisfied with flying at only two meters. Even standing up on a public bus was higher than this. So, he shouted upwards.
"Professor Singeade! Professor Singeade, what level of proficiency do I need to reach before I can fly higher?"
Singeade didn't react right away, but Madam Hooch was quick to respond. "You can try once you can freely control your acceleration and turns, Professor William. You know the Bubble-Head Charm, don't you? You can try flying a bit higher over the Black Lake. If you really lose control, you can just dive into the water with your broom. As long as you have the Bubble-Head Charm ready, you'll be fine."
Spoken like a true flying professor—she came up with a nearly perfect training plan in an instant.
William seriously suspected she had used this training method on students before, but ultimately abandoned it because first-year students couldn't master the Bubble-Head Charm.
But the Bubble-Head Charm posed no pressure for William. Many potions emitted smells more horrific than microwaving a durian pit during brewing, so the Bubble-Head Charm had practically become an essential protective charm for potion-making.
—
Anyone who has just learned a new form of transportation has the urge to take it with them everywhere, even to the lavatory. William was no exception. Since the students were all in class, he simply rode his flying broomstick at a height of two meters, half-flying and half-hovering all the way to the Black Lake.
This was the largest lake at the school. Since it was during class time, there were no students around.
Every year, the new first-year students would cross the Black Lake by boat to reach the school. Occasionally, someone would fall out and be rescued by a creature from the lake. Some said it was a squid, others an octopus, but the version William heard from Hagrid was an octopus.
"Don't be fooled by its size, that fella's as gentle as they come. Every few years it saves a new student, and it's also pulled up quite a few 'adventurers' who tried to search for treasure at the bottom of the Black Lake."
Hagrid had emphasized the last word when he said this—clearly, he was referring to students like the Weasley Brothers, who believed there was a secret at the bottom of the Black Lake.
*To think I didn't consider coming to the Black Lake for stargazing on Saturday—a miscalculation.*
William looked at the shimmering water of the lake and couldn't help but inwardly criticize himself.
A sky full of stars reflected in a lake of stars, and with magical protection, there was no need to worry about insects or the like. Wouldn't that be more comfortable than catching young couples on the lawn?
Criticisms aside, William still remembered what he was here to do.
*First, cast the Bubble-Head Charm on myself, just in case something unexpected happens and I don't have time to cast it later.*
*My flight altitude can't be too high. If the broom goes out of control, I'll still have to steer it into the lake, which means a collision with the water. If I'm too high, I'd just be asking for trouble.*
"Prepare an attack spell. Entering a perfectly calm lake surface can lead to injury. Hitting the water with an Impediment Jinx first would be much better."
...
Before deciding to attempt a more difficult flight, William controlled his broom to circle above the Black Lake, formulating the most thorough plan he could.
If he accidentally broke a leg or an arm because of a flying lesson, wouldn't that group of fifth-year students, already driven mad by their exams, laugh themselves to death?
With this resolve, William reviewed his plan once more.
(end of chapter)
2022-07-14 Author: I'm Just a Pigeon
"Not good at it?"
When William honestly admitted he had barely touched a flying broomstick, Professor Kettleburn exclaimed in astonishment.
What followed was the genuine experience of being the center of attention—everyone present was a professor, and without exception, they all had a penchant for teaching.
"Professor William, there's no need to be nervous. The broomstick is very obedient. You just need to stand in front of it."
"Exactly, exactly. Extend your right hand, place it beside the broom, and just shout 'Up!'" another professor chimed in enthusiastically.
*Why do you all look like you're just here for the entertainment? Just like the audience members who spam instructions during a livestream...*
Surrounded by a group of professors, William enjoyed the most luxurious faculty lineup in the entire British Wizarding World—if only they weren't teaching a flying lesson, William felt he could have cried with happiness.
But now, as it was hard to go against the will of the crowd, William could only obediently listen as the group of professors critiqued his stance.
"Alright, you've got all the key points down, haven't you, little William?"
Professor Kettleburn's excited expression made William feel as if he were about to take a winning penalty kick. *It's just flying, it's not that serious, Professor!*
But Professor Kettleburn clearly couldn't hear William's inner complaints. He happily slapped his partial arm with his remaining hand. "Are you ready? Counting down now—three, two, one, go!"
"Up!"
William suppressed his sense of shame and shouted the command in front of a crowd of professors.
Then, the broomstick did a somersault on the spot and rolled over, going from vertical to horizontal.
...
"Hahahaha!"
The surrounding professors stared blankly for a moment, then burst into roaring laughter in unison.
"Well, it seems it's on strike."
William shrugged and spread his arms in an exaggerated gesture—at a time like this, as long as he wasn't embarrassed, the embarrassment couldn't touch him.
"Madam Hooch, should I get a new broom, or keep trying to get this one to work?"
Madam Hooch was one of the few who hadn't laughed—as the flying professor, she had seen countless first-year failures.
"Just keep trying, Professor William. Very few people succeed on their first try."
It took about ten minutes for William to successfully master flying. To be more precise, his skill was less than that of a novice—he had barely reached the doorstep. He was now able to fly two meters off the ground.
—
"Alright, it seems Professor William won't be able to join our game for the time being. Madam Hooch, you can be the Beater."
After watching William's ten-minute-long effort, Professor Kettleburn extended a very solemn invitation to Madam Hooch.
All the professors who decided to participate rose to a height of ten meters. Even the spectators mounted their brooms and flew to the same altitude. William had thought the professors would find riding a broomstick embarrassing, but now it seemed everyone viewed them like bicycles.
"Professor William, have your wand ready so you can save yourself if the broom goes out of control. At the same time, make sure the broom doesn't fly off and hurt a student. Two meters is the best height for a beginner. If you go too high, an out-of-control broom becomes impossible to handle."
Singeade gave this earnest instruction, then flew up to ten meters on his broom.
...
*What? Do newbies have no rights?*
William grumbled internally as he watched the crowd ascend into the sky.
He then began testing his broom in the air, flying straight, accelerating, braking, and turning, having a grand time all by himself.
*Fine, don't include me. Flying is still a lot of fun.*
After flying for a while, William grew a little dissatisfied with flying at only two meters. Even standing up on a public bus was higher than this. So, he shouted upwards.
"Professor Singeade! Professor Singeade, what level of proficiency do I need to reach before I can fly higher?"
Singeade didn't react right away, but Madam Hooch was quick to respond. "You can try once you can freely control your acceleration and turns, Professor William. You know the Bubble-Head Charm, don't you? You can try flying a bit higher over the Black Lake. If you really lose control, you can just dive into the water with your broom. As long as you have the Bubble-Head Charm ready, you'll be fine."
Spoken like a true flying professor—she came up with a nearly perfect training plan in an instant.
William seriously suspected she had used this training method on students before, but ultimately abandoned it because first-year students couldn't master the Bubble-Head Charm.
But the Bubble-Head Charm posed no pressure for William. Many potions emitted smells more horrific than microwaving a durian pit during brewing, so the Bubble-Head Charm had practically become an essential protective charm for potion-making.
—
Anyone who has just learned a new form of transportation has the urge to take it with them everywhere, even to the lavatory. William was no exception. Since the students were all in class, he simply rode his flying broomstick at a height of two meters, half-flying and half-hovering all the way to the Black Lake.
This was the largest lake at the school. Since it was during class time, there were no students around.
Every year, the new first-year students would cross the Black Lake by boat to reach the school. Occasionally, someone would fall out and be rescued by a creature from the lake. Some said it was a squid, others an octopus, but the version William heard from Hagrid was an octopus.
"Don't be fooled by its size, that fella's as gentle as they come. Every few years it saves a new student, and it's also pulled up quite a few 'adventurers' who tried to search for treasure at the bottom of the Black Lake."
Hagrid had emphasized the last word when he said this—clearly, he was referring to students like the Weasley Brothers, who believed there was a secret at the bottom of the Black Lake.
*To think I didn't consider coming to the Black Lake for stargazing on Saturday—a miscalculation.*
William looked at the shimmering water of the lake and couldn't help but inwardly criticize himself.
A sky full of stars reflected in a lake of stars, and with magical protection, there was no need to worry about insects or the like. Wouldn't that be more comfortable than catching young couples on the lawn?
Criticisms aside, William still remembered what he was here to do.
*First, cast the Bubble-Head Charm on myself, just in case something unexpected happens and I don't have time to cast it later.*
*My flight altitude can't be too high. If the broom goes out of control, I'll still have to steer it into the lake, which means a collision with the water. If I'm too high, I'd just be asking for trouble.*
"Prepare an attack spell. Entering a perfectly calm lake surface can lead to injury. Hitting the water with an Impediment Jinx first would be much better."
...
Before deciding to attempt a more difficult flight, William controlled his broom to circle above the Black Lake, formulating the most thorough plan he could.
If he accidentally broke a leg or an arm because of a flying lesson, wouldn't that group of fifth-year students, already driven mad by their exams, laugh themselves to death?
With this resolve, William reviewed his plan once more.
(end of chapter)
