Edgar zipped and corkscrewed through the air between students as they made their passes across the pitch, occasionally phasing directly through someone with little more than a distracted “Oh my, terribly sorry,” before continuing on.

“Good restraint, Forsfelle,” he remarked while gliding alongside the Slytherin at grass-skimming altitude. “The urge to climb is natural. The ability to act on restraint is what matters.”

His attention shifted then to the Hufflepuff trailing the seventh year, brow knitting a bit as the boy corrected a slip towards the grass.

“Careful, Singh-Phora. You’re looking a bit distracted,” he cautioned as he floated backwards towards the boy, allowing the third year to pass and ― hopefully ― leave those wandering thoughts behind. “A broom can feel hesitation faster than you think.”

A smooth sideways drift carried him toward the nervous Gryffindor correcting herself after brushing a bit too low only to have his thoughts interrupted by Miller’s burst of speed.

“Oh, marvelous. Miller has discovered acceleration.” Edgar’s head turned sharply towards the third year and found the boy's encouragement towards his potential future teammate soften whatever bite he had been about to unleash. “Lovely to see. Teams built entirely of ego tend to explode eventually.” His gaze drifted back to the first year as Miller showboated away. “Better, Patterson. Adjustments without panic. Keep your eyes forward for your first pass to make sure you keep your seat on your broom, yes?”

Then away he glided again again in a lazy spin toward the Gryffindor sixth year.

“Excellent control, Thanatos-Misra. Awareness working in tandem with instinct. That distinction keeps talented players alive.” He tilted slightly to peer again at the long hair whipping around the boy’s face, but offered no further comment.

Finally, Edgar drifted sideways until he was pacing Barrington’s reluctantly restrained low-altitude glide.

“You are treating patience like a medical condition, Barrington,” he observed dryly. “But excellent discipline regardless. Slow control exposes weak flyers faster than speed ever will.”

Edgar gave a couple firm puffs on the silver whistle around his neck, calling the group back and allowed the hopefuls a brief moment to settle onto their brooms after making their warm-up flights. Then he rose higher above the pitch himself, drifting effortlessly upward with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Excellent. Now that we have confirmed you are all capable of remaining upright at low altitude, we may proceed to the portion of tryouts that separates adaptable flyers from decorative ones.”

A faint shimmer rippled across portions of the pitch at those words, distortions drifting slowly across the airspace like oil across water in just barely there silver, gold, and bronze.

“You will now take another lap, or more should you wish, around the pitch to familiarize yourselves with today’s… unusual conditions before we get into the real thick of things. A proper circumference this time.” His smile sharpened slightly. “Do try to experience all of them at least once. Repeatedly avoiding discomfort tells me very little about your potential as an athlete.” Edgar turned smoothly in the air, translucent sleeves sweeping dramatically behind him. “Several decades ago, long before any of you or even your parents were born, during a professional match between the Yokohama Umibōzu and the Falmouth Falcons, a truly inspired group of idiots attempted to manipulate localized Momentum Charms on the pitch in order to favor one side’s Chasers.” He paused, his eye twitching ever so slightly. “They succeeded for approximately eleven minutes. Then a Beater accelerated into a commentator’s box at nearly seventy miles per hour. I had paperwork for six months and several players under a restraining order to forever remain at least 5 meters from any broom at all times.”

Slowly, Edgar drifted lower again as the shimmering zones continued shifting around the pitch at a glacial pace.

“Scandalous as the incident was, it is the inspiration for today’s trial. Rest assured that Cushioning Charms and Momentum Charms are in place to prevent any of you suffering the same fate as the Beater or any injury that would warrant any extensive care from Professor Feirgrund.” One long finger lifted toward a silver-tinted stretch of air. “Silver shimmer means Slow Zone. Your movements and response times will feel delayed and drag.” Then toward gold. “Gold shimmer: Fast Zone, which means increased acceleration and delightful for the thrill seeking sorts.” And, finally, he indicated towards a bronze shimmering patch of sky. “Bronze shimmer is an Inverted Zone. Your orientation will reverse vertically, up becoming down and down becoming up. Quaffles, Bludgers, and Snitches will also respond the same, so you will need to think about your passes and whacks of the bat. All-in-all, an excellent exercise in spatial awareness and strategic thinking.”

The ghost rotated once slowly in the air, robes fluttering despite the stillness around him.

“There are also pockets of normal airspace scattered throughout the pitch as well. You may find them comforting and a way to reset and refresh your flight. But keep in mind that transitioning between zones cleanly will be a challenge.”

His gaze swept across the students below.

“Focus on control. Observe how your broom responds. Anticipate transitions before they occur. And above all else…” Edgar’s smile turned knowingly amused, “enjoy. If you are not enjoying flying, then I do question why you are doing it at all. The moment Quidditch becomes nothing but pressure and ego is usually the moment gravity begins taking a personal interest in you.”

A flick of his wrist sent them onward.

“Now off you go. We will be adding considerably more variables shortly, and I would prefer you discover how these enchantments behave before introducing Quaffles, Bludgers, teammates, opponents, and competitiveness into the equation.”