CHAPTER 48

The captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, who also served as the Seeker and prefect, was a commendable young man whose achievements rivaled those of Dumbledore, if one were to scale them appropriately. He and his comrade, the team's Keeper, hovered motionless in the air, scrutinizing every detail of Hector's maneuvers.

"Doesn't he ever look around?" Herbert, the Keeper, marveled. "Does he possess eyes in the back of his head? Or perhaps in his heel? And in…"

"It's simply a matter of feeling," Cedric replied with a smile. "I do that as well, though not with such precision or on such a grand scale."

Hector executed another maneuver, deftly evading the beams aimed at him. He accelerated momentarily, lifted his broom sharply, and executed a rapid one-hundred-eighty-degree turn, simultaneously performing a half-roll.

"Wow!" Herbert swayed on his broom in astonishment. "An Immelmann?"

Hector appeared to "fall" through the air, halting almost instantaneously, causing the others to lose sight of him as they flew past. The group lost precious seconds attempting to locate Hector with their eyes, but he had already vanished into the bushes.

"The sun," Cedric remarked with a smile. "He concealed his disappearance behind the low sun."

"Huh? Oh!"

The four on brooms dispersed in different directions, searching for the last "survivor" in the game of tag, but to no avail.

"You know, Cedric…" Herbert rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Oh, please don't start…"

"Oh, come on! It's evident!" Herbert exclaimed, gesturing toward Hector's presumed location. "The Cleansweep merely restricts him."

"I am not blind," Cedric's expression grew serious—a rarity for him. "I can see quite clearly that he knows precisely what he intends to do, and he executes it flawlessly. His reaction time, route planning, and instant reassessment of the situation are exceptional. And yes, the Cleansweep is akin to an anchor around his neck."

"There you have it," Herbert raised a finger skyward in a didactic manner.

"And you, as always, propose that I accept something from your father's department?"

"Why not? They send him brooms in boxes for certification and examination, and he is free to dispose of them as he sees fit, barring sales and other commercial activities. However…"

"Advertisement…" Cedric shook his head disapprovingly.

"Yes! And once again, yes!" Herbert, evidently eager to pursue his favorite topic, flew closer to the captain. "The Swedes have sent us a batch of brand-new Sleipnirs. They are unique brooms with an ambitious name."

"What makes them so special?"

"They would be perfect for Hector," Herbert nodded confidently, attempting to locate the newcomer with his eyes, but he was still eluding the others. "You see, he has essentially mastered all the flight standards."

"Please, do not vulgarize."

"I cannot help it! Observe how he manipulates the broom's thrust vectors! He is unconcerned with when, where, or how to distribute impulses—all without altering his body position."

"I see, I see; I can do that as well, but not to this extent… Not like this…" Cedric gestured in the air, illustrating how "not like this."

"There! And you are aware that most brooms have their total power of impulses, maximum thrust, and other parameters divided into vectors in varying proportions. Cleansweeps are relatively universal but lack responsiveness, and their impulse is dull. Comets are superior, offering a more powerful impulse for acceleration along the shaft…"

"I am well aware of broom specifications, Herbert. I am quite knowledgeable in that regard."

"Indeed? Do you know the specifications of the Lightning? Not the retail version, but the actual specifications?"

Cedric's interest was piqued by such information, as even he had succumbed to youthful enthusiasm and visited Diagon Alley a few times to admire this marvel displayed in the window of "Quality Quidditch Supplies."

"I see that you do not," Herbert grinned.

"…there he is, in pursuit!" they heard the cries of the others who had spotted Hector.

"In general, the Lightning is a complex piece of equipment. Do you know why it is so fast?"

"Please, enlighten me; do not keep me in suspense."

"Unlike other brooms, it can transfer reserved power from the front hemisphere to the back. Do you understand?"

"Hmm, does that make sense? Just from front to back?"

"Well, I suppose Spudmore was correct in assuming that no one would fly head-on in races."

The boys seemed to share the same mental image simultaneously, eliciting grins from each of them.

"In short, the Swedes either sleep…"

"Herbert!"

"…or they have essentially stolen the idea—or something similar—but the Sleipnir can redirect all power and momentum to a single vector, or disperse them across a hemisphere, or even counteract each other."

"Fascinating, of course, but who would require such a feature? The testers described the Lightning as a death machine due to the necessity of comprehending braking concepts or executing an Immelmann turn without altering altitude while distributing braking with the primary thrust."

"Automatic braking…"

"Auto marketing," Cedric dismissed. "It is easy to injure oneself on a Lightning. You either activate it yourself, or it recognizes an obstacle. However, if the obstacle is too soft, the system fails to detect it. And it does not recognize water. Have you ever fallen into water from a height? No? I do not recommend it. It is not much better than hitting the ground."

"Indeed, and the Sleipnir is entirely devoid of automatic correction systems, which has allowed it to enhance its impulse and response speed to an absurd degree."

"I understand. You wish for the new Chaser to meet an untimely end."

"No, no! Observe," Herbert nodded toward the ongoing pursuit of the individual—an unsuccessful pursuit, at that. "He is not merely controlling every maneuver; he is managing every moment of the flight. Through my father, I will be able to negotiate with the Swedes…"

"Your father will negotiate with the Swedes," Cedric nodded, prompting his comrade to regard him reproachfully. "Very well, you will negotiate; that is acceptable."

"Indeed. I will arrange for an advertising campaign. Thus, they will provide our player with a broom that will enable him to win matches—not as a Seeker, but as a Chaser! By a margin of goals! The team will receive bonuses, Hector will earn money, and even a broom for permanent use, provided he wins at least a couple of games this season."

Cedric pondered this, observing as Hector once again left his competitors in the dust—not hiding this time, but rather spinning around the other players at an incredibly close range, preventing them from aiming with their gloves or interrupting the targeted beam by concealing himself behind other players.

"Why do you not consider acquiring a Sleipnir?" Cedric grinned. "As a Keeper, you could greatly benefit from a broom with enhanced directional thrust."

"No, my friend—those born to crawl fly only from top to bottom. I lack the mental acuity to manage so many factors simultaneously; I have attempted it," Herbert waved his hand dismissively. "I cannot overcome my limitations in this regard. In five years, if I wish to be the best Keeper…"

"Very well, but let us have you—before organizing contracts—take the broom for a test flight. If Hector comprehends its capabilities and agrees, then we shall discuss it further. If not, then I regret to inform you that we shall have to part ways."

"Ah, I am here for the team…"

"We are not vultures; we do not play solely for the sake of victory."