Finally, Ye Ting's first flying lesson began.
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were having the flying lesson together, and there were about thirty or forty new students from both Houses.
The place where the class was held was a flat lawn, and at the end of the lawn was a forest. In the distance, black trees swayed in the wind.
Before they arrived, there were already about forty brooms neatly arranged in the field.
Ye Ting had once heard Zhang Qiu complain that the brooms at Hogwarts were too old, so much so that they had some problems: Some brooms would tremble when they flew too high, and some had the bad habit of flying to the left or right.
Soon their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived.
She had short gray hair and yellow eyes, like those of an eagle.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?”she snapped."Everyone stand by a broomstick. Hurry, hurry, hurry up."
In the middle of the group, Ye Ting picked up a crooked old broom in disgust. The branches on it were poking out in a mess.
Hermione was standing beside him, examining a nearly bare broom curiously.
"Hold out your right hand, put it over the broom handle," Madam Hooch called from the front,"and say: 'Get up!'"
"Get up!" Everyone shouted.
Ye Ting didn't shout after him. He just repeated it in his heart, but the broom still obediently moved to his hand.
It was not difficult for him to silently issue such simple instructions that were not even spells.
However, only a few young Magi could do this.
Hermione Granger's broom merely rolled over the ground, and others 'brooms did not even budge.
None of his three roommates had succeeded. Terry Butte and Anthony Goldstein's brooms had tangled together, while Michael Corner's had used the handle to smack its owner in the face.
After arguing for a while, everyone moved on to the next step.
Madam Hooch showed them how to get on their brooms without sliding off their heads. She walked up and down the line, correcting their grip.
"Alright, as soon as I whistle, kick your legs off the ground.”said Madam Hooch, who was still using Neville as a counterexample. His movements were not accurate enough, and his feet were too hasty, so he lost control of himself when he flew into the forest and broke his wrist.
"Hold the broom steady, rise a few feet, then lean forward slightly and fall straight back to the ground. On my whistle-three-two-one-"
What followed was chaos. Many of them fell to the ground before they could fly half a metre. Hermione managed to steady her broom, and it took her a minute to stay afloat.
Perhaps it was because Padma Patil was of Indian descent, but her broom took her flying in the air to perform acrobatics. Many young wizards looked up at her with envy.
However, Ye Ting could clearly see that her face was pale and her hands were clutching the broom tightly. This acrobatics was probably not what she wanted.
Justin Finch-Fletchley's broom carried him in circles until Justin fell to the ground, dizzy.
Ye Ting was the best at flying among them. He easily flew into the air.
What kind of feeling was that? The air whistled through his hair, his robe billowing behind him. Everyone seemed smaller and smaller in his eyes, and Hogwarts seemed to be nothing.
He could hear the sounds coming from the ground-the screams of the girls, the envious shouts of Terry Bott and the others. As he continued to rise and accelerate, even the sound seemed to have been forgotten.
In fact, as he persisted in training day after day, his body had been steadily evolving and becoming stronger.
Now, his physical fitness, balance, and reflexes had long since surpassed the limits of humanity, which allowed him to control broomsticks better than anyone else and perform many difficult movements.
He rode his broom through the Hogwarts sky, dived through the bridge hole, circled the tower several times, and even did a few rolls as he dived.
The rapid flight had deeply stimulated his nerves, and the adrenaline made his blood boil.
In the past, he had always been calm and steady. Even in his previous life, he had never done anything too out of line. But now, this kind of flight made him discover another side of himself--the desire to stimulate and challenge the limits. The feeling of conquering life and death in the midst of life and death made him unable to stop.
"Perhaps, I was born to be someone who doesn't know my place.”
With this thought in mind, he flew even more boldly.
He thought of the stunt flying performance he had seen at the air show.
Those pilots could perform so many dazzling and exaggerated technical movements in the cockpit through the control handles and instrument panels. Now that he was personally controlling the broomstick, his control and flexibility were several times better than the pilots. It was not impossible for him to do those movements.
He rode his broom back to the sky above the lawn.
There was plenty of space there for him to practice his acrobatics--with a hint of flaunting--and he started trying.
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