Chapter 97: Malfoy Who Never Leaves
"We have to work even harder this year—we will win the championship!" Wood clenched his fists and shouted, "Now let's go put the new training plan into practice!" With that, he grabbed his broom and led the way out of the changing room.
It certainly boosted morale, but everyone still looked exhausted. Even though they were Quidditch players, their lives weren't just about Quidditch—their daily schoolwork was also demanding.
They had spent so long in the changing room that by the time they reached the pitch, the sun was already high in the sky. Harry spotted Colin still sitting in the stands and could hardly believe it. "Wood talked for so long, and Colin still hasn't left?"
That was a bit frustrating—but there were also things that made Harry happy. He saw Ron and Hermione. They hadn't abandoned him; instead, they had come to watch his training together.
"You're still not done with training?" Ron asked in disbelief. That morning, when he was half-asleep, he vaguely remembered Wood dragging Harry away. After waking up and eating, he had seen Harry's note.
He happened to run into Hermione in the Great Hall. After breakfast, they even brought some bread and jam as snacks and came to find Harry together.
"Wood explained a lot of new tactics, but we haven't even started training yet," Harry said, looking enviously at them. They were sitting in the stands enjoying snacks, while he hadn't even had breakfast yet.
Although he grumbled a little, he still mounted his Nimbus 2000, pushed off the ground, and soared into the air. The cool breeze brushed against his face, instantly refreshing him. "No matter what tactics Wood comes up with, nothing beats flying freely in the air to lift your spirits."
At the start of the new school year, returning to the Quidditch pitch felt almost like being underwater. Harry flew high above the ground, circling the field at speed, weaving past his teammates one by one.
"So comfortable," Harry slowed down, spreading his arms as if he were truly flying—though, of course, he already was.
"Where did that clicking sound come from?" Fred asked from behind.
As expected, Harry instinctively looked toward the stands. Colin had climbed to the top row, holding his camera high and snapping photos nonstop. In the empty, silent stadium, the shutter clicks sounded especially loud.
"Look this way, Harry!" Colin waved with one hand while holding the camera with the other.
Harry felt like banging his head against a wall.
"Who's that?" Fred asked, not recognizing him. He guessed it was a first-year.
"I don't know," Harry said quickly, not daring to admit he knew Colin—it was too embarrassing. He sped up, leaving Colin far behind.
"What's going on?" Wood frowned, quickening his pace. He had just created a new plan and was about to carry out secret training. "Why is that first-year taking photos? Secret training? He could be a Slytherin spy trying to steal our strategy!"
"He's a Gryffindor first-year," Harry quickly explained. Although Colin was a bit overwhelming, he was still a fan—not a bad person.
"Slytherin doesn't need spies, Wood," Fred muttered.
"And how do you know they don't?" Wood snapped, clearly annoyed. He had spent his entire summer designing this plan, yet no one seemed to take it seriously—and now someone was even taking photos.
"Because Slytherin came themselves," Fred said, pointing below.
A group of students in green robes had entered the pitch, each carrying a broom.
"I can't believe this. I booked the pitch for today. I want to see what they think they're doing," Wood said angrily, lowering his voice.
He shot down toward the ground so fast that he nearly lost his balance upon landing. Harry and Fred landed beside him as they confronted the Slytherin team.
"Flint!" Wood shouted at the Slytherin captain. "This is our training time—clear out!"
Marcus Flint, who looked like he might have some troll blood in him, stood taller than Wood. With a sly smile on his rough face, he replied, "It's a big pitch, Wood."
Angelina, Alicia, and Katie rushed over as well. The Gryffindor team lined up, glaring at their rivals.
The Slytherin team, all boys, stood in a row too, wearing their usual arrogant expressions, squinting at the Gryffindors.
"I already reserved the pitch!" Wood shouted. "I booked it!"
"Oh?" Flint drawled mockingly. "But I have a note signed by Professor Snape. He's given Slytherin permission to train our new Seeker today."
"A new Seeker?" Wood was immediately drawn in—this was big news. "Who is it?"
A pale boy stepped out from behind six tall, burly teammates, wearing the trademark Slytherin arrogance.
It was Draco Malfoy.
"Isn't that Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred said in disgust, still remembering his father's argument with Lucius in Flourish and Blotts.
"Since you mentioned Lucius Malfoy," the Slytherins grinned even more smugly, "let us show you the generous gift he gave to our team."
All seven of them raised their brooms—brand-new, sleek racing brooms with the words "Nimbus 2001" gleaming in gold, shining brilliantly in the sunlight.
"This is the latest model, released just last month," Flint said proudly, stroking his broom. "Much faster than the old Nimbus 2000s. And as for those outdated Comet brooms—" he sneered at Fred, who was holding one, "you might as well use them for sweeping the floor."
Even the Gryffindor team was stunned by the sight of the seven Nimbus 2001s. The school-provided brooms were old and worn, and only wealthier students could afford their own.
But these brooms were expensive—and after all, Quidditch was just a sport. Very few parents were willing to buy the best equipment; they preferred their children to focus more on studies than training.
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