Rey was a bit surprised that a girl had struck up a conversation with him. He turned to look at the freckle-faced girl next to him, who looked to be about twelve or thirteen.
Seeing the wariness in her eyes, Rey realized what was going on immediately. He smiled. "I'm not a Quidditch player. I'm actually here to see Madam Hooch."
"Madam Hooch!" the freckled girl repeated, then fell silent.
Madam Hooch was notoriously strict—something every student who'd taken Flying Class knew all too well.
Girls that age tend to overanalyze things; a simple sentence could be interpreted in a dozen different ways.
Rey's answer immediately struck them as a cover-up. So, they kept peppering him with random questions, trying to tease out his real purpose for being there.
Just then, an accident occurred on the pitch.
A Bludger tore across the field. A Beater raised his bat and swung with all his might.
Perhaps his hands were sweaty, but the bat slipped. Instead of sending the Bludger where he intended, the impact knocked the ball straight toward the stands where Rey was sitting—right at the girl who had turned her head to talk to him.
Screams erupted from the girls in the stands. On the field, players yelled warnings.
But the Bludger was too fast; it was there in the blink of an eye. Rey didn't have time to stand. He shoved the girl aside forcefully with his left hand while clenching his right fist and swinging it violently from left to right in a backhand block.
Bang!
His fist connected with the Bludger, knocking it away into empty space.
A Bludger packs way more punch than a human fist. The violent impact sent the ball flying, but the inertia yanked Rey's right arm to the left, forcing his entire body to spin halfway around.
Rey stood there, letting his arm hang loose. It hurt, sure, but it was bearable. The girl he'd pushed over, on the other hand, was still in a daze, having no clue what had just happened.
He flexed his fingers and swung his elbow a couple of times. Aside from some surface pain, his movement wasn't restricted. It seemed fine.
While Rey checked his arm, a crowd gathered.
Charlie Weasley, the redhead, was the first to arrive, followed by the Beater who had lost his bat. Madam Hooch followed close behind. Everyone was concerned about injuries.
After all, that was a loud impact. To the onlookers, anyone crazy enough to punch a Bludger probably had a shattered arm.
---
A normal wizard's reflex would be to draw their wand. That's instinct.
Using a hand to block was a total Muggle move.
But a Muggle didn't have Rey's durability. A Muggle would be on the ground screaming in agony right now.
"I'm Charlie Weasley. I apologize on behalf of my teammate. He didn't mean to. I am so sorry. Let me take you to the Hospital Wing."
As a captain, Charlie was responsible. He apologized before his teammate even got there.
"No need. Look, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
Rey raised his right arm and moved it around in front of Charlie, smiling. His expression was relaxed; his arm really was fine.
The little lions standing around were stunned. They had assumed Rey was seriously hurt. Seeing him without a scratch was baffling.
"It's you!"
Madam Hooch's voice rang out from the crowd, filled with confusion.
The confusion wasn't just about Rey's physical toughness, but a sudden sense of kinship—a connection between dragons.
She knew Rey, of course.
She remembered him vividly as the first-year who had crashed so horribly in his first flying lesson—the worst crash in Hogwarts history.
To her, that was just Rey the student. There was nothing special about him.
Back then, she hadn't felt any dragon connection.
Dragons can sense each other. It's a subtle feeling, but one glance is usually enough to recognize one of your own.
When Rey first attended her class, he looked familiar, but she couldn't place him because she sensed nothing.
But now? It was the same person, yet the dragon sense was unmistakable.
That was the root of her confusion.
With that puzzle piece, the image of the boy approved by the Dragon God in the vault a thousand years ago merged with the Rey standing before her.
Madam Hooch was now certain: the student who just punched a Bludger was that same child from a millennium ago.
---
"Since you're fine, come with me."
After confirming Rey's identity, Madam Hooch issued the order with evident suspicion, then flew down from the stands on her broom.
Her office was at the corner of the pitch. Rey was there to see her anyway, so this was perfect.
He smiled awkwardly at the surrounding Gryffindors and turned to leave. He didn't want to keep Hooch waiting, especially since he needed a favor.
"Did he really just punch a Bludger away?"
"I think so..."
"Is his hand okay?"
As Rey left, the stands erupted in whispers. The girl he had pushed watched him go, thinking, So he really was looking for Madam Hooch.
Madam Hooch's office had two rooms. The outer one was her office; the inner one stored brooms.
The walls were lined with Quidditch photos. Clearly, in her long life, Hooch had found her passion: Quidditch.
When Rey entered, Hooch was already at her desk, flipping through a file—Rey's freshman file.
She waved a hand, and the chair opposite her slid out. Rey sat down obediently.
Looking at Rey, who wasn't particularly tall, Hooch didn't speak immediately.
Being stared at like that was uncomfortable. Rey laughed awkwardly.
The awkwardness lingered. Hooch didn't speak, and her stern expression killed Rey's smile.
Left with no choice, Rey spoke up. "Um, Professor..."
However, Hooch cut him off. "Before you tell me why you're here, shouldn't you explain something to me first?"
"Explain?"
Rey was confused. He didn't understand what she wanted him to explain. His heart started drumming. Did I do something wrong?
Hooch stared at him for a few seconds to ensure he wasn't faking it.
"A thousand years ago... that was you in the vault, wasn't it? Tell me, how did you manage to hide your dragon aura until today?"