’ Saturday, 14 September.
Breakfast in the Great Hall was even noisier than usual.
Harry Potter sat at the Gryffindor table with a long, narrow parcel wrapped tightly in brown paper lying in front of him.
The Nimbus 2000 Professor McGonagall had specially authorised for him.
“Look!
Potter’s got a broom!” Draco Malfoy shouted from the Slytherin table, his face green with envy.
“First-years aren’t allowed those!
I’m going to tell Professor Flitwick!” “Give it a rest, Draco.” Sitting opposite him, Morrin calmly cut into his fried egg without even looking up.
“If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut.
Otherwise you’ll look like a primary school tattletale, and you’ll miss the much better show.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than a deep beating of wings echoed through the rafters overhead.
Eight enormous barn owls descended in formation, carrying seven long parcels and one heavy, pitch black case between them.
They landed slowly beside the Slytherin table.
“Merlin, is that…
an arms shipment?” The entire Great Hall turned to stare.
Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, tore into one of the parcels with barely contained excitement.
“Nimbus 2000!
Seven of them!
brand new!” The Great Hall erupted.
Oliver Wood’s face went positively green, while Ron loudly shouted that it was cheating.
“It’s called sponsorship, Weasley.” Morrin leisurely wiped his mouth and rose from his seat.
As he approached the pile of parcels, Flint and the other Slytherin players respectfully moved aside.
Morrin’s gaze settled on the last object, the long black case.
Set into its lid was a solid silver alchemical emblem, beneath which ran a line of gold lettering: BLACK FOREST WORKSHOP | CUSTOM MODEL | PROTOTYPE 001 “This one is mine.” Morrin placed a hand on the case.
“Black Forest Workshop?” Draco leaned closer.
“That German broom manufacturer?
I heard they were about to go bankrupt.” “That was last month, Draco.” Morrin undid the clasps.
A wave of cold air spilled from the case.
“I bought them in August.” “The brooms on the market are too light.
They can’t handle my…
constitution.
So I gave their craftsmen my designs and had them work flat out to build this for me.” With one hand, Morrin lifted the broom from its case.
It was entirely matte black, brutally built and heavy set, more like a great black motorbike than an ordinary racing broom.
━━━━━ 🔍 SCAN ━━━━━ Scanning target: Custom Broom ‘Black Swan’ Origin: Black Forest Workshop (Acquired) Designer: Morrin White (Core Alchemical Matrix Provided) Traits: Heavy Tank, Supersonic Assault, Industrial Custom Build, Magic Booster ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ “You…
bought a factory?” Draco swallowed hard.
For the first time in his life, he felt as though his pocket money had been personally insulted.
“If I want milk, I generally buy the whole farm.” Morrin spoke as though this were perfectly ordinary as he slung the heavy broom over one shoulder.
“Finished breakfast?
Then get down to the pitch.
I didn’t buy seven Nimbus 2000 for them to sit around looking pretty.” ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ At the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, Morrin sat astride Black Swan without taking off.
“Listen, White.” Flint flew over, clearly attempting to recover some of his authority.
“You’re a Chaser.
When you get the Quaffle, remember to pass it to me.” “Pass?” Morrin gave a cold laugh.
“Flint, what’s your scoring rate?
Thirty per cent?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means—” Morrin suddenly pressed a runic switch embedded in the broom handle.
BOOM!
A stream of blue flame visible to the naked eye blasted from the alchemical exhaust at the rear.
It was a [Magic Booster] designed by the German craftsmen according to Morrin’s theories.
There was no run up.
Morrin shot skywards like a black cannonball, ripping through the air with a piercing sonic boom.
This was nothing like relying on a light, airy Hover Charm.
Black Swan drove itself forward through raw magical propulsion and gravitational potential energy.
“Catch!” Bletchley, the Keeper, hurled the Quaffle towards him.
Morrin caught it and came to a sudden halt in mid air.
The sheer mass of his broom carried tremendous momentum even through the manoeuvre.
“Stop him!” Flint shouted.
He and Warrington swept in from either side.
Two light, agile Nimbus 2000 moved to intercept the airborne tank.
“A collision?” A wild gleam flashed through Morrin’s eyes.
“Exactly what I wanted.” He made no attempt to dodge.
Instead, he lowered his centre of gravity and charged directly at them.
THUD!
THUD!
Two heavy impacts rang out.
Flint and Warrington felt as though they had flown head first into an airborne slab of iron.
The enormous recoil nearly threw them from their brooms, while Morrin’s Black Swan did not so much as wobble.
That was the power of the [Half Giant Bloodline] combined with an [Industrial Custom Build].
Whoosh!
The Quaffle flew cleanly through the hoop.
Morrin hovered in the air, casually twirling his cane as he looked down at the dishevelled Flint.
“Captain Flint.” His voice drifted down from above.
“If you hadn’t moved just then, that fragile Nimbus 2000 would probably have snapped clean in half.
That is the difference between mass produced merchandise and a custom build.” “From today onwards, give me the Quaffle.
Whoever gets in my way, I’ll smash through them, broom and rider together.
That is how Slytherin does things.
Whether it’s capital or Quidditch, we’re going to be the hammer that crushes everything in front of us.” Flint clutched his shoulder and stared at the boy hovering above him like a black knight.
Whatever resistance remained in him vanished.
“Understood…” High in the stands, Oliver Wood slowly lowered his binoculars in despair.
“We’re finished…
Harry,” Wood said, his voice trembling.
“They haven’t just got Nimbus 2000.
White’s riding some sort of…
Is that even a broom?” “It’s a bloody rocket with a handle!” Harry clenched his fists as he stared at Morrin in the sky.
“That’s his style.” He remembered what Morrin had said back in Diagon Alley.
If money can pave the road to victory, he’ll pave the whole thing in Galleons.
“We’re doomed.” Wood buried his face in his hands.
“They’ve got seven Nimbus 2000 and a Chaser driving a flying tank.
They’re going to turn us into Swiss cheese this year.” “No.
We still have a chance.” Harry kept his eyes fixed on Morrin.
Determination burned in his green eyes.
“As long as I can catch the Golden Snitch before he puts our entire team in the Hospital Wing.” High above the pitch, Morrin felt the wind screaming past him.
The [Half Giant Bloodline] within his body seemed to boil.
Being able to unleash his strength without restraint felt absolutely wonderful.
“System, how many extraction chances do I have left?” [Remaining Extractions: 21] “Excellent.” Hovering high above the grounds, Morrin looked down upon Hogwarts Castle.
“Once we win the first match, I’ll celebrate with a ten-pull.” He turned Black Swan back towards the Slytherin team.
“Now…
let’s turn this pack of barbarians into a proper army.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Hidden_Quill Thank you so much for reading!