Thursday afternoon found the first-years gathered on the lawn behind Hogwarts, a row of old, battered broomsticks lying on the grass before them. They looked more like bundles of twigs than flying vehicles.
"Good afternoon!" barked Madam Hooch, her sharp, yellow eyes missing nothing. "Welcome to your first flying lesson! Stand to the left of your broomstick. Come on now, hurry up!"
Zhang Ming looked down at his assigned 'Cleansweep Seven'. A notification flashed in his vision.
[Scanning: Broomstick - 'Cleansweep Seven' (Discontinued - 30 years)]
[Status: Severe wear and tear. Flight rune integrity: 33%.]
[Safety Rating: D (Significant risk of failure)]
[Recommendation: DO NOT MOUNT. Liability waiver not worth the risk.]
They're still using these deathtraps?Zhang Ming sighed internally. Hogwarts' budget must be tighter than I thought.
"Now, place your dominant hand over the broom," Hooch instructed, "and say, firmly, 'Up!'"
"UP!" voices chorused across the lawn.
Harry's broom jumped neatly into his hand. Hermione's rolled over. Ron's broom lay there, stubborn as a rock. Draco Malfoy's broom obeyed instantly, and he smirked, casting a superior glance around, his eyes lingering challengingly on Zhang Ming.
Zhang Ming ignored him. He simply looked at his broom and said, in a calm, conversational tone, "Up."
Something strange happened. Not only did his own broom rise, but a dozen other brooms around him levitated in perfect unison, hovering steadily at waist height.
A stunned silence fell over the lawn.
"Merlin's beard!" Hooch gasped. "Mr. Zhang! How in the name of Merlin did you do that?"
"Resonance frequency," Zhang Ming explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The flight runes on these brooms are crudely tuned to a similar base frequency. I simply emitted a matching energy pulse. They resonated in sympathy."
Hooch stared, utterly baffled. "Reso... what? Energy pulse?"
"Basic principles of wave mechanics," Zhang Ming said with a patient smile. He waved a hand, and the brooms gently settled back onto the grass. "My apologies, Madam Hooch. Please, continue."
Flustered, Hooch moved on. "Right! Now, mount your brooms! But don't push off yet! Wait for my command!"
Students clumsily swung their legs over the broomsticks. Zhang Ming did the same, his mind whirring with criticism.
This riding posture is a biomechanical disaster. Prone position, high center of gravity, enormous wind resistance. No wonder their backs are always sore.
[Aerodynamic Analysis: Standard Broomstick Posture]
[Wind Resistance Coefficient: 2.3 (Comparative: Modern Automobile ~0.3)]
[Efficiency Rating: F]
[Optimization Protocol Generated: Upright Stance Recommended]
"On my whistle!" Hooch shouted. "Three... two..."
Before she reached "one," Neville Longbottom, trembling with nerves, kicked off far too hard. His broom shot into the air like a rocket, veering wildly as he clung on for dear life.
"Mr. Longbottom! Come back at once!" Hooch yelled, panicked.
Zhang Ming's eyes narrowed. He didn't reach for a wand. He simply raised a hand and made a gentle grasping motion in the air. An invisible filament of spiritual energy shot out, wrapping around Neville and the broom, arresting their chaotic flight mid-air.
"Stabilize."
Neville found himself suspended, held by a gentle, unshakeable force that slowly lowered him back to the ground as gently as a falling leaf.
"Th-thank you," Neville stammered, pale and shaking.
"The fault lies with the broom's sensitivity calibration, not you," Zhang Ming said kindly. He turned to Hooch. "Madam Hooch, with your permission, perhaps a demonstration of proper technique would be beneficial? I've observed several fundamental misunderstandings regarding control."
Hooch, still recovering from the shock of his casual display of power, nodded mutely.
Zhang Ming addressed the class. "First, understand the principle. A broomstick doesn't 'fly' in the way a bird does. It uses runes to generate定向 thrust and a localized anti-gravity field." A shimmering, three-dimensional diagram of a broomstick's internal runic array appeared in the air above his palm, causing another wave of gasps.
"Shouting 'Up' is like starting a car by hitting the engine with a hammer. Precision is key." A sphere of golden light appeared in his other hand, its brightness pulsing with exquisite control. "You must learn to modulate your magical output."
He mounted his broom. "But more importantly, you must communicate, not command. The broom is a tool. Think of it as a partner." He closed his eyes for a second. The broom rose smoothly, silently, and perfectly level.
He then demonstrated, switching between the standard, inefficient prone posture and the upright, surfboard-like stance he preferred, explaining the drastic reduction in wind resistance and improvement in stability and control. He accelerated to speeds that made Hooch's eyes bulge, and executed a hairpin stop that defied physics, hovering a mere inch from the ground.
"By reversing the thrust vector instantaneously," he explained to the stunned audience.
Inspired, the students tried his 'communication' method. The results were immediate and dramatic. Brooms rose more steadily. Control was easier. Even Neville managed a stable hover.
Malfoy's face was a thundercloud. His plan to show off had been utterly derailed. "Parlor tricks!" he sneered, desperate to salvage his pride. "Real flying is about Quidditch! Zhang! I challenge you! A Snitch chase!"
Zhang Ming raised an eyebrow. "Very well."
Hooch conjured two golden, fluttering orbs. "The first to catch their Snitch wins! Stay within the lawn boundaries! Ready... GO!"
Malfoy shot off, chasing his Snitch with practiced skill.
Zhang Ming didn't move. He closed his eyes.
[Tracking: Golden Snitch (Simulated)]
[Motion Pattern Analysis: Pseudo-random. Six primary trajectory nodes identified.]
[Projected Intercept Point: Southeast corner, 2.8 seconds.]
He opened his eyes and kicked off, not chasing the Snitch, but cutting diagonally across the lawn. He arrived at a seemingly empty patch of air just as the Snitch zipped around a corner and flew directly into his waiting hand.
Five seconds. The lawn was silent, save for the distant buzz of Malfoy's still-chasing Snitch.
"IMPOSSIBLE!" Malfoy shrieked, landing roughly. "You cheated!"
"Probability and predictive modeling," Zhang Ming stated calmly. "A true Seeker doesn't chase. He anticipates." He looked at Harry. "Potter shows promise in that regard."
The lesson ended with Zhang Ming surrounded by eager students, while a humiliated Malfoy slunk away, vowing revenge.
That evening, the now-cramped Ravenclaw common room hosted over sixty students from all houses. Zhang Ming announced the move to the Room of Requirement for the next meeting.
"Today, we advance from Perception to Guidance," he began, a stream of golden light flowing like liquid along his arm. "You must learn to channel your magic through optimal pathways—what we call 'meridians' or 'magical conduits'. This dramatically increases efficiency and power."
The lecture was another masterclass. Hermione's quill flew across parchment. Even the troublemakers were silent, absorbed.
Later, in his room, Zhang Ming reviewed his progress.
[Teaching Progress Report]
[Total Students: 63 (+21)]
[Mastered 'Internal Vision': 21]
[Progressing to 'Guidance': 3]
[World Rule Analysis: 6.47%]
[Verdict: Exceeding expectations. Knowledge dissemination effective.]
He then switched his view. A mental window showed Professor Quirrell skulking near the third-floor corridor. He's making his move on the Stone. Good. Let him play his part a little longer.
Another window showed the dormant but stirring soul fragment in Harry's scar. The main soul's awakening is agitating the horcrux. The Philosopher's Stone incident will happen sooner than in the original timeline.
A faint smile touched Zhang Ming's lips. No matter. I am prepared.