Quidditch Match

Since the beginning of the school term, Vaughn's academic excellence had already become deeply rooted in everyone's minds.

Hermione used to want to compete with him. But perhaps due to being surrounded by poor-performing students for too long, she gradually stopped obsessing over extra points.

At this point, only point deductions could still make her angry.

When the owl delivered the package, Vaughn was pretending to be deep in thought. Ron, who sat opposite him, eagerly awaiting an answer, leaned so far across the table that it looked like being closer might help him hear it sooner.

As a result, the package dropped by the owl hit him squarely on the head.

"Bloody Juvi! I knew it always hated me!"

Ron cursed the family owl, which Ginny had named.

This young eagle owl was Errol's successor and currently served the entire Weasley household.

Juvi, now perched beside Vaughn, glanced sideways at Ron with open disdain, as if he were a pile of rubbish.

Ever since Ron had jokingly called it a "piggy," it hadn't spared him a single glance.

Harry, meanwhile, ignored Ron's squabble with the bird. He stared at the oddly familiar package, stunned, and asked Vaughn, "Vaughn, is that what I think it is...?"

Vaughn opened the parcel with a bright smile and nodded. "Exactly what you think, Harry. A broomstick—a Nimbus 2000!"

"Merlin's beard..." Ron clutched his chest dramatically, as if he could see golden Galleons glittering from the wrapping. He stared at Vaughn in disbelief. "You—you actually bought a Nimbus 2000?"

"Of course not. Professor Snape did."

That familiar twist in the story made Harry even more uneasy. Not long ago, he had received a Nimbus 2000 as well, bought by Professor McGonagall to celebrate his appointment as Gryffindor Seeker.

Hermione had also put the pieces together. Covering her mouth, she gasped, "Vaughn, you joined the Quidditch team too?"

"That's right, Hermione. Professor Snape thinks I've got great potential and hopes I'll lead Slytherin to victory!" Vaughn grinned at her.

His tone was cheerful, but Harry couldn't bring himself to share the excitement.

He recalled their first flying lesson—the day both he and Vaughn soared around the field effortlessly. Vaughn's flying instincts and adaptability had been astonishing.

The two had performed equally well that day.

That memory had gnawed at Harry ever since. He had meant to ask Vaughn about it, but never did—until the thought resurfaced right before bed last night.

Vaughn still hadn't told him who Nicholas Flamel was.

Ron, lying in the bed next to his, was outraged by the whole Quidditch matter. "That greasy bat Snape did it on purpose! He can't stand seeing you shine, Harry. McGonagall made you Seeker, so he shoved Vaughn into the same role!"

"What a cunning plot!" He shouted suddenly, startling Seamus Finnigan, who had just fallen asleep. Seamus jumped up in fright, completely shaken out of his slumber.

Ron began pacing in front of Harry's bed. "Harry, don't fall for it! Snape is trying to sabotage your friendship—he wants to turn you and Vaughn into enemies. He—"

Harry had to interrupt him. "What are you on about? That's getting ridiculous."

"Well, I can tell you're not happy..." Ron muttered, "Are you worried Vaughn might steal your spotlight? You should learn from me. I've lived in his shadow my whole life, and look—I'm still in one piece..."

Harry chuckled faintly and couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for Ron.

But he still cut him off. "That's not it. Stop making things up. I'm just... worried. Vaughn's really good. What if I lose to him? Everyone on the team is counting on me—I don't want to let them down."

Ron scratched his face awkwardly, unsure how to console him.

...

On Saturday, October officially arrived, and the temperature in the Scottish Highlands dropped even further.

There was even a layer of frost on the morning grass.

Today was the Slytherin Quidditch team's training day. As the second first-year Seeker after Harry Potter to make a team, Vaughn attracted a huge crowd of spectators.

When Harry and Ron arrived, the stands were already packed—not just with Slytherins, but Hufflepuffs too. Cedric Diggory had brought along several classmates who often discussed Transfiguration with Vaughn, holding a banner that read Go Vaughn!

Ravenclaw's section was even livelier, their cheers and spells making the air seem sugar-sweet. They conjured sparkling fireworks and playfully teased Vaughn, who was soaring above them.

Even Gryffindor's stands had filled up. The twins were waving a magically animated bed sheet with a comic strip of Vaughn catching the Golden Snitch mid-flight.

Hermione was there too, casting spells on the sheet to keep the animation smooth.

Ron was furious and shouted at the twins, "You traitors!"

They shouted back, "He's our brother, Ronnie."

"Your brother, too, Ronnie."

"They're just sucking up to Vaughn," Ron grumbled to Harry. "Bet if I joined the team, they wouldn't lift a finger. I wonder what they'd even do for me!"

Harry didn't respond—he was too distracted. He spotted Wood and made his way over with Ron.

Wood didn't seem especially gloomy. He patted Harry reassuringly. "Don't worry. I still think no one can match your talent."

Then Slytherin's training began. Today's focus was testing Vaughn's Seeker skills. The rest of the team acted as opposition, aiming Bludgers and obstructing his flight path.

Wearing windproof goggles and straddling a brand-new Nimbus 2000, Vaughn looked down at the crowd.

"…I may have underestimated how popular Quidditch really is."

Though the original book had made its importance clear, Vaughan—who had never seen a match in this life—hadn't felt it until now.

He began to ponder: Quidditch popularity probably counted toward Reputation points, right?

All these little wizards… the families behind them… if he could impress them with his skills, surely his monthly Reputation score would increase by at least one point?

Stay focused! Vaughn tightened his grip on the broomstick, both feet pressed firmly against the stirrups as he lifted off slightly.

With a whistle, Captain Flint released the Golden Snitch. The other players shot into motion, aiming to block Vaughn's path and distract him.

But their efforts were in vain.

Harry's instinct had been right—Vaughn's reflexes really were on par with his own. With one swift tilt of the broom, the Nimbus 2000 surged to full speed.

The opposing players barely saw a blur flash past them.

One nearly collided with Vaughn. But Vaughn weaved through their formation with graceful precision.

Dodging Bludgers and bodies alike, he darted toward the streak of gold that zipped and looped below.

One minute later, Vaughn soared upward, arm raised high—the Golden Snitch gleaming between his fingers.

The stands erupted in thunderous cheers.

Harry looked up and saw the color drain from Wood's face...