“Harry Potter.” Professor McGonagall approached with a stern expression.
Harry’s heart immediately skipped a beat.
When he’d caught the Remembrall, Professor McGonagall had been standing in her office.
She must have seen everything.
“Come with me.” Without another word, she turned and strode back toward the castle.
Harry followed nervously, not daring to say a single word.
What kind of punishment am I about to get?
Surely…
I won’t be expelled…
right?
“I think your divination may have been a little off, Wade.” Draco couldn’t help laughing.
“Maybe Potter won’t even be here tomorrow.” Wade remained unconcerned.
“I don’t think he’ll be expelled.” “But…” “I guarantee he’s regretting his decision right now.” Professor McGonagall’s pace became faster and faster.
She led Harry through corridor after corridor before finally stopping outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
“Excuse me, Professor Quirrell.” “Could I borrow Wood for a moment?” Professor Quirrell was in the middle of teaching while holding a large lizard.
After a brief pause, he stammered, “O-of course.” A moment later, a tall fifth-year Gryffindor stepped out of the classroom, looking completely confused.
Professor McGonagall eagerly led him over to Harry.
“Potter.” “This is Oliver Wood.” “Wood…” “I’ve found your new Seeker.” Wood’s confusion vanished instantly.
His face lit up.
“Really, Professor?” “Absolutely.” “Potter is a natural.” “I saw it with my own eyes.” “It was his very first time on a broom.” “He caught the Remembrall before it crashed through my office window.” “Since Charlie Weasley graduated, Gryffindor has been without a Seeker.” “But Harry is perfect for the position.” Wood carefully looked Harry up and down.
“Light.” “Quick.” “Exactly the build you’d want for a Seeker.” “Harry…” “Have you ever watched a Quidditch match before?” Harry sheepishly shook his head.
He’d heard plenty about Quidditch.
But he’d never actually seen a match.
Even though he still had no idea what was happening…
One thing had become absolutely clear.
He wasn’t being expelled.
“Professor McGonagall…” “I think Harry will need some training.” “No problem.” She answered immediately.
“Harry.” “You’d better train hard.” “Help Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup.” “Otherwise…” “I really will have to punish you.” “There is one issue.” Wood hesitated.
“Harry is only a first-year.” “According to the rules, first-years aren’t allowed to join House teams.” “That’s hardly a problem.” “I’ll speak with Professor Dumbledore.” After classes ended that afternoon, Harry excitedly told Ron everything while they walked toward the Great Hall.
His Quidditch training would begin the following week.
“A Seeker?” Ron stared at him.
“No first-year has ever made a House team.” “You’ve got to be the youngest Quidditch player ever.” “The youngest in over a century.” Harry corrected him.
“That’s what Professor McGonagall said.” “Well done, Harry!” A familiar voice suddenly called from behind.
Fred and George had somehow appeared beside them.
“Wood already told us.” “We’re on the team too.” Fred grinned.
“We’re the Beaters.” “Our job is making sure you don’t get beaten to a pulp.” George added cheerfully.
“Though we can’t promise anything.” “Quidditch is a pretty violent sport.” “Still…” “Nobody’s ever died.” Fred shrugged.
“People disappear every now and then.” George nodded seriously.
“But they usually turn up again after a month or two.” Harry’s heart twitched involuntarily.
Quidditch suddenly sounded far more dangerous than he’d imagined.
His excitement faded, replaced by growing uncertainty.
“Go on, Harry.” Fred laughed.
“Quidditch is the greatest game there is.” “And you’ll become the best.” The moment Harry and Ron entered the Great Hall…
Draco blocked their path.
“Potter.” “Here for your last meal?” “When does your train leave?” “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, Young Master Draco.” Wade casually interrupted.
“He wasn’t expelled.” “In fact…” “He’s been selected as Gryffindor’s new Seeker.” “What?” Draco blinked.
“Since when?” “It just happened.” “I heard it from one of Gryffindor’s ghosts.” “But he’s only a first-year.” “Dumbledore approved it.” “Heh.” Draco froze for a second before letting out a cold laugh.
“Of course.” “Dumbledore always favors Gryffindor.” “You got lucky this time, Potter.” “Now that you’re back on the ground…” “And surrounded by bodyguards…” “…you’ve suddenly found your courage.” Harry shot back sarcastically.
Draco clenched his fists angrily.
Still…
He didn’t dare start a fight inside the Great Hall.
Especially with every professor eating just a few tables away.
Trading insults was one thing.
Throwing punches was something else entirely.
“Listen carefully, Potter.” “I’m willing to duel you anytime.” “If you’ve got the nerve…” “Meet me tonight.” “A proper wizard’s duel.” “You do know what that is, don’t you?” “Of course Harry knows.” Ron immediately stepped forward.
“I’ll be his second.” “Who’s yours?” Draco glanced first at Crabbe and Goyle…
Then his eyes landed on Wade, who was calmly cutting into his steak.
…Not good.
Wade felt as though a bright red warning sign had started flashing inside his head.
A chill ran down his spine.
Keeping a low profile wasn’t merely a preference.
It was a carefully chosen survival strategy.
If he’d committed to staying unnoticed…
Then he intended to stay that way.
A midnight duel?
To him, it was completely meaningless.
Nothing but bored children looking for excitement.
“Oh…” “I just remembered.” “I haven’t finished Professor Flitwick’s homework.” Setting down his knife and fork, Wade calmly stood and headed for the exit.
He hadn’t gone more than a few steps before two broad figures blocked his path.
Crabbe.
And Goyle.
“I’ve decided.” Draco declared proudly.
“Moreya will be my second.” No.
I won’t.
Don’t volunteer me.
Did anyone ask my opinion?
Wade sighed helplessly before turning back toward Draco.
“That isn’t funny.” “I hate to admit it…” “But you’re a little more capable than those two.” “If I asked Nott or Zabini instead…” “It would make our dormitory look divided.” “And besides…” “Weren’t you the one who said Potter would become my greatest rival at Hogwarts?” “Tonight…” “I’ll prove he’s nothing but an overrated fraud.” “He’s not worthy of being a Malfoy’s rival.” Harry and Ron both looked toward Wade.
Their expressions grew unusually complicated.
Since the Sorting Ceremony, they’d barely spoken to him.
To them, he’d simply been another ordinary classmate.
Apparently…
They’d judged him far too kindly.
You really can’t judge a person by appearances.
No wonder he ended up in Slytherin.
Brilliant.
Wade silently cursed Draco in his heart before speaking with visible resignation.
“I did say Harry Potter would become Draco Malfoy’s greatest rival at Hogwarts.” “But…” “That was simply the outcome of a divination.” “There wasn’t the slightest bit of fabrication involved.” “Yeah, right.” Ron snorted dismissively.
“You’re the diviner.” “Whatever the ‘result’ is…” “…is whatever you decide it is.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS ulquiorra_cifer_1152 If you’re enjoying the story, please consider supporting it!
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