Chapter 30

[Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]

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The lesson continued, and after Madam Hooch emphasized some basic points once more, she began guiding the young witches and wizards to slowly lift off the ground.

Both Harry and Ron appeared quite at ease, especially Harry.

This surprised Harry a lot. To be honest, he had been startled when Neville fell earlier and had felt a bit nervous. But as soon as he mounted the broom and took off, an unexpected sense of calm washed over him.

It was as if he had always known how to do this but had simply forgotten due to a lack of practice. Now that he was flying again, it all came back to him effortlessly.

The old broom felt like an extension of Harry's body, responding fluidly to his every command.

Ron's experience was similar. Though he seemed a bit hesitant at first, he quickly became more confident, maneuvering the broom up and down with ease. He wasn't as smooth as Harry, but he remained composed.

Where there are outstanding performances, there are also those who struggle.

In truth, only five students had successfully made their brooms rise on the first attempt, especially Harry.

Harry's flying skills clearly surpassed Draco's. He was as light as a butterfly and had even begun attempting some difficult maneuvers.

Ron was slightly behind Harry but was nearly on Draco's level. He moved freely through the air, and perhaps because he lacked Draco's bad habits or preconceived techniques, his flying appeared more natural.

Draco was on par with three other Slytherin students, all of whom had prior experience with broomsticks. Draco was the most skilled among them, while the other three were slightly less adept, though all managed to fly with confidence.

As for the remaining students, most struggled to stay airborne, and only a few were able to accelerate and make sharp turns.

"Mr. Potter, what extraordinary talent!"

When the students landed for a short break, Madam Hooch regarded Harry with clear approval.

"I had high hopes for you, after all, your father was an excellent Chaser. But even so, your performance has far exceeded my expectations."

"My father was a Chaser?"

Harry already had some knowledge of Quidditch, so he knew what a Chaser was. In the previous trials, a very talented second-year Chaser, Katie Bell, had been selected. She was now a regular member of Gryffindor's house team.

"Yes, he was quite a well-known figure in his time, captain of the Quidditch team," Madam Hooch said with a nostalgic tone.

"He led Gryffindor to multiple House Cup victories. He even had the chance to join a professional team, but unfortunately, it was a chaotic era..."

At this point, Madam Hooch's voice grew somber. But before the mood could turn melancholic, she quickly brightened up again.

"How about an experiment, Potter?"

"An experiment?" Harry was a little confused, unsure of what she had in mind.

"Yes, an experiment," Madam Hooch confirmed with a nod before turning to the other students, particularly the Slytherins.

"After your break, you can continue practicing freely, but do not fly more than ten meters off the ground, and stay away from the castle."

Though the students agreed, albeit with puzzled expressions, curious about what experiment Madam Hooch had planned for Harry, she paid no mind and turned back to him.

"So, Potter, would you like to give it a try?"

"Okay… okay," Harry replied, feeling both nervous and excited. "What kind of experiment is it?"

"Here!"

Madam Hooch reached into her pocket and pulled out a tennis ball.

"I'll throw this ball, and your task is to catch it, while flying, of course. What do you think?"

Harry immediately found the idea intriguing. And it wasn't just him, many of the other students, including the Slytherins, seemed interested as well.

Once Harry agreed, Madam Hooch waited for him to mount his broom before gently tossing the ball into the air.

In a blur, Harry shot forward like a gust of wind and caught the ball effortlessly.

"Wow!"

A chorus of impressed gasps rang out.

"Tsk, I could do that too," Draco muttered, pouting.

"Yeah, exactly! What's so special about that?" Pansy Parkinson scoffed, mirroring Draco's expression.

The two stood side by side, pale-skinned, equally haughty, and identical in their mannerisms, creating an almost comical sight.

Blaise Zabini glanced at them, his lips moving slightly as if he wanted to say something but ultimately remained silent. However, if anyone present knew how to read lips, they would have noticed he had simply mouthed one word, idiots.

"Very good, Potter. Now, let's make things a bit more difficult," Madam Hooch said, clearly pleased.

She tossed the ball again, this time with much more force, sending it flying at a greater speed.

But Harry still caught it with ease.

Madam Hooch's smile widened. She then began using magic to further accelerate the ball. By the time it was moving at roughly 120 kilometers per hour, weaving unpredictably through the air, Harry still managed to snatch it without trouble.

Madam Hooch was astonished.

The young witches and wizards watching were even more shocked. Ron, Dean, and Seamus stood with their mouths so wide open that they could probably fit their fists inside. Several witches, including some from Slytherin, had eyes shining with excitement.

Even Draco and Pansy, who had been sarcastic earlier, had fallen silent.

120 kilometers per hour.

Coincidentally, that was the typical speed of the Golden Snitch.

Although the Golden Snitch could theoretically reach speeds of over 150 kilometers per hour, in reality, it rarely accelerated that fast. The real reason the Snitch was so difficult to catch was its ability to move at extremely high speeds while frequently changing direction, without warning.

The tennis ball controlled by Madam Hooch barely matched the Snitch's speed, but its maneuverability was nowhere near as unpredictable.

Even so, Madam Hooch was still amazed that Harry had caught it with such ease.

During the session, Ron had also attempted to catch the ball, but once it exceeded 80 kilometers per hour, he began to struggle.

Most of the young witches and wizards expressed their genuine amazement at the scene.

With one exception.

Hermione.

Her expression at that moment was strange. She looked as if she wanted to burst out laughing but was desperately trying to hold it in.

It wasn't that Hermione doubted the talent Harry and Ron had just demonstrated, far from it.

It was just that the entire scene unfolding before her was simply too funny.

Throw the ball.

Catch the ball.

Throw the ball again.

Catch it again.

No matter how she looked at it, the whole thing resembled a Muggle scene, a pet owner training a particularly clever puppy to fetch.

The more she thought about it, the harder it became to keep a straight face.

Fortunately, no one noticed Hermione's silent struggle.

Everyone else remained focused on Harry and Ron, especially Madam Hooch.

"Potter, you might have a future as a Seeker," Madam Hooch said cheerfully. Then, turning to Ron, she added:

"Weasley, oh wait, I should probably just call you Ron. There are too many Weasleys running around, hehe. Ron, is this your first time flying?"

"I've flown twice before," Ron admitted, "but only for a short time on each occasion."

"Hmm, then I'd say your talent isn't far off from Charlie's," Madam Hooch mused before sighing.

"If it weren't for Potter…" she began, then shook her head. "I mean, if it weren't for Potter, I'd say you'd make a solid candidate for Seeker. But even if you don't play that position, I think you could be a fantastic Chaser or Keeper. Well, I suggest you talk to Fred and George, maybe they can put in a word with Wood for you."

Ron's face lit up, turning nearly as red as his hair.

After all, Charlie Weasley had once received an invitation to try out for a professional Quidditch youth team.

Even though it was only a training squad, they were still professional-level players.

At that moment, Ron made up his mind.

The second class ended, he would go straight to Fred and George. Gryffindor had Quidditch practice that weekend, maybe he could earn a special tryout.

And, of course, there was Harry.

It was impossible for a first-year to become a starting player, but joining as a reserve and training with the team? That sounded like a great opportunity.

If he made it onto the team in his first year, wouldn't that mean he had surpassed both Charlie and Fred?

"I don't think you'll need to go through all that trouble."

Just as Ron was lost in his daydreams, a voice cut through his thoughts.

Professor McGonagall, dressed in deep green robes, had appeared on the field at some point.

She now stood behind the group of young wizards. But what was truly surprising was the expression on her face.

Professor McGonagall, who was always so strict and serious, was actually smiling.

"Rolanda, may I borrow Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley for a moment?" she asked politely.

"I need to have a word with them."

"Of course, Minerva," Madam Hooch replied with an unusually bright smile. Then, she winked at McGonagall.

"You owe me one."

McGonagall let out a rare chuckle.

"Very well, come by my office tonight."

"I've just received a fine batch of tea. Originally, I planned to invite Bathsheba to try it, but it would be wonderful if you could join us as well."

"Bathsheba? I do hope she brings dessert this time," Madam Hooch mused with a grin.

After exchanging a few more words, Professor McGonagall led Harry and Ron away from the field and back toward the castle.

The remaining students watched them go, momentarily confused. Most of them had no idea what was happening.

However, a few quick-witted students immediately pieced it together, and their eyes widened in realization.

Excited whispers spread among the group, and soon, even those who hadn't figured it out caught on.

Low gasps and murmurs filled the air.

But one person wasn't whispering.

One person wasn't smiling.

One person's face was so dark he looked like he might collapse on the spot.

Draco Malfoy.

What. Was. Happening?

What. Was. Happening?!

The Flying Lesson was supposed to be his time to shine. He was supposed to outclass Potter completely, show him up in front of everyone and leave him speechless with admiration.

But instead… Instead, THIS happened?!

Draco stood there, staring blankly, completely unable to make sense of it.

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