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Ian had been comfortably straddling the broomstick, but after being corrected to the proper posture by Madam Hooch, his expression became less cheerful.
This thing is a bit uncomfortable… ouch.
The Cushioning Charm didn't seem very effective on these old brooms.
"It's fine as long as you don't rise more than a few feet. Don't let me see you flying over ten feet. So far, I still want to maintain my record of no injuries in my class."
Madam Hooch's tone clearly suggested that she was proud, but Ian knew she could only be proud for this year. Next year, Madam Hooch will truly face a major challenge in her career.
"Whoosh Whoosh Whoosh~"
Learning to fly wasn't particularly difficult, not even as hard as Ian found the discomfort of the broom. Fortunately, he could secretly conjure a small cushion for his broom.
Everyone followed Madam Hooch's instructions to practice. Ian also felt the joy of flying in the air, so free and relaxed… with an indescribable sense of familiarity.
"Turn into a raven and fly over!"
The request from the Rowena Ravenclaw seemed to echo in his ears. If he could learn the Animagus transformation, Ian really wanted to become a free-spirited raven.
"The preparatory work alone takes a long time, and it's truly dangerous magic. A slight mistake could lead to the accidental creation of a new species."
He felt a sense of anticipation.
However, Ian didn't want to rush into learning Animagus transformation just yet; he had already piled up quite a few classes, and it wouldn't be too late to learn after he had a solid understanding of alchemy.
"Flying cloak…"
After landing from his broom, aside from a few young wizards afraid of heights, most of the students felt a bit unsatisfied. Ian only felt that the experience of flying on a broom was really not comfortable.
When the Flying class ended, he immediately shook off his two gluttonous roommates and planned to return to the dormitory to study. He had read through the borrowed books, and Ian had made good progress in his study of alchemy.
Thanks to the fabric fragments given by Professor Mara and the numerous works of the great sages in the Hogwarts library, Ian's alchemy skills had already broken through to level three last night.
This was already quite a good level.
Although wizards' lives were inseparable from alchemy in every aspect— from wizard chess, broomsticks, and Remembralls to candles and enchanted fireplaces— the influence of alchemy was everywhere.
However.
As a subject that involves material changes, potions, ancient runes, charms, and transfiguration, even senior students found it difficult to master and learn.
So-called geniuses.
They were merely the ticket to enter this subject. As the most challenging discipline in the entire wizarding world, even among Hogwarts' senior students, only a few prodigies chose it as an elective. Some of them might be able to grasp this skill, but reaching a level of true mastery was still quite difficult.
It wasn't merely about being able to make a living with this skill after graduation; becoming a respected master of alchemy was almost impossible.
Alchemy required not only meticulousness and a rigorous attitude like well-oiled gears but also a comprehensive knowledge of various fields. To become a master, one also needed boundless imagination and creativity.
"Fortunately, I'm not just a genius; I'm also a bit of a show-off." Ian didn't find alchemy that difficult; it was merely a process of learning to control and innovate.
Seeing it, learning it, and starting to apply it— such was the way of it. When Ian hurried back to the Ravenclaw common room, he saw a Dementor standing guard on the Seventh Floor.
Many wizards avoided the Seventh Floor.
With faces full of fear.
Most people in the wizarding world were like this; they grew up hearing about the horrors of Dementors. Dementors were truly comparable to the various ghost stories Muggle families used to scare their children into obedience.
The difference was that Dementors actually existed, while ghost stories might have been tales made up by parents to frighten their children.
Dementors were not living beings but malevolent entities; they had no facial features, and where a mouth should be, there was a gaping void capable of draining a person's soul and happiest memories.
The dreaded "Dementor's Kiss" could plunge a person into eternal despair. It wasn't just first-years who feared them— many grown witches and wizards did their best to avoid such creatures as well.
"What's going on? Why is a Dementor at the school?"
Ian inquired with a senior student. It seemed that someone from the Ministry of Magic had arrived to investigate the mysterious circumstances surrounding Professor Ronnie Ehrlich's death, and the Dementor had been brought along as an assistant.
"Stupid Dementors can assist in what investigation? This is definitely just the Ministry's way of intimidating us. Cornelius Fudge loves to make others fear him!"
It appeared this senior had family in the Ministry of Magic and wasn't shy about voicing their discontent; opinions from parents often had a way of seeping into their children's views.
"Although they're mindless, don't you think they look impressive? I thought the school was going to issue Dementors… sigh, what a disappointment. I wanted to keep one." Ian stood gazing at the Dementor stationed in the eighth-floor corridor, and the shadowy figure seemed to sense his stare.
Their eyes met— if one could call it that.
The Dementor hovered in mid-air, its hood concealing whatever lay beneath.
"Ah!"
Ian was affected by the Dementor's presence, but instead of fear or dread… he only thought it looked even more fascinating. There was no chilling numbness, only a strange admiration for how ominously magnificent it was.
Perhaps…
Dementors, like basilisks, could make excellent pets!
"The Ministry of Magic is using Dementors all wrong." Ian had some strong opinions about this; such an eerie yet intriguing creature should be studied, not relegated to mere prison guards.
What a waste!
"???????"
The third-year senior stared at Ian in utter disbelief.
She had planned to invite the younger student to lunch, hoping to build a casual friendship that might grow into something deeper over time.
However.
"Oh no, I left my wand in the classroom— how dreadful." The senior, thoroughly unnerved by Ian's enthusiasm, quickly feigned urgency and retreated toward the staircase.
She felt an immediate need to inform her friends— who had been discussing this charming younger student since the start of term— that some things were simply not meant to be in this lifetime.
"How brilliant!"
Ian had no idea what the senior was thinking. He sighed wistfully, gave a friendly wave to the dazed Dementor, and ascended the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room with an unusually lighthearted step.
"I heard someone got caught sneaking around last night."
"Yes, a couple from Gryffindor. They were caught starkers (nude)!"
"Heavens! That's bad luck. I bet it was Filch— people say he nicks students' clothes to try and absorb a bit of magical residue!"
…
(To Be Continued…)