Although Lucius had repeatedly warned Draco that finding the diadem was his top priority, and Draco had initially been full of confidence, Dumbledore tightened nighttime patrols just two days after term began.
Draco wrote to Lucius, explaining that it was inconvenient to act for now, but he would definitely find another opportunity to search the Room of Requirement. Lucius's reply said nothing about it. A few days later, however, he sent Draco seven broomsticks.
When Draco received the Nimbus 2001s, there was no way he could suppress his excitement. For the time being, he completely forgot about the task his father had assigned him and immediately went to discuss matters with Flint.
On Saturday, he would present the brooms to the Slytherin team as a gift to celebrate his joining, and the entire team would test-fly them together.
Flint, for his part, had applied to Snape three days in advance for exclusive use of the Quidditch pitch.
Everything had been going perfectly. Why did Hermione have to say that?
Draco was furious.
"If there's going to be a competition, it should be between the two teams," Harry stepped forward and said.
"You?" Draco sneered. "I've wanted to compete with you for a long time."
During their first flying lesson the year before, Harry had indeed been exceptional. But Draco was not the type to easily admit someone was better than him. Besides, his broom was faster than Harry's. He saw no reason why he should lose.
Harry's broom was the best on the Gryffindor team—a Nimbus 2000 gifted to him by Professor McGonagall last year.
"Hold on, Draco," Flint said, stepping forward and fixing Wood with a direct stare. "How about Slytherin and Gryffindor have a practice match today? What do you say?"
Though his tone sounded casual, the challenge in his eyes was unmistakable. With the Nimbus 2001s in hand, Flint's confidence had swelled considerably.
Wood looked like a cheerful, scholarly sort, but his temperament was unyielding. Faced with Flint's provocation, he accepted without hesitation.
"A better broom doesn't guarantee victory," Wood said.
"We'll see about that," Flint replied, leading his team toward the Quidditch pitch.
"An unscheduled bonus show. Nice," Sean remarked.
"Just watch me out there," Cassius said confidently, hurrying after the team.
Standing beside Sean, Chris asked, "They said they were training Draco as the new Seeker, right? So what happened to the old one?"
"Mm." Sean wasn't interested in Quidditch, and everyone knew it. But Cassius was obsessed with the sport and constantly talked about team matters around him, whether Sean wanted to listen or not.
"The old Seeker was Terence Higgs, a fifth-year. Draco replaced him. One of the Chasers graduated, so Higgs switched to Chaser—same position as Cassius now."
"Potter is really good," Chris said. "In last year's match, even though he broke his arm, his skill and courage were better than most of the older players."
"You think Flint and the others will lose?" Sean asked.
Chris hesitated. "They're our house team, so I should believe in them. But Draco just joined, and they haven't had time to build chemistry."
"I think they'll lose too," Sean said. "There's an old saying in the East: a proud army is doomed to defeat."
He gestured toward the Slytherin team. "From Flint to the rest of them, they're all swollen with confidence because of their new brooms. They've also brought in a new player and shifted positions. They haven't had time to adjust."
Chris looked at the strutting Cassius and sighed. "Then you'd better start thinking about how to comfort him afterward."
"Why am I always the one who has to do that?" Sean groaned.
Cedric had somehow heard about the practice match and arrived at the Quidditch pitch with two Hufflepuff classmates to watch and gather some information.
"Sean, Chris, you're here too," Cedric greeted them.
"We were dragged here," Sean said.
Cedric looked up at the sky above the pitch. "So they really are Nimbus 2001s. I'm jealous."
Up in the air, Flint barked a few quick instructions before spreading his players into formation. Seeing Gryffindor still huddled together discussing tactics, he shouted impatiently.
"Wood, stop stalling. Either play or go home."
Wood gave his team a few final words before the seven players spread out into what looked like a 2-2-1 arrangement.
A Quidditch team consisted of seven players: one Keeper and one Seeker.
The two Beaters used bats to defend their teammates from Bludgers, usually knocking them as far away from their own side as possible—or toward the opposing team.
The three Chasers worked to score by throwing the Quaffle through the opposing hoops.
Gryffindor's five non-specialist players spread out with two up front, two in midfield, and one in the back. The front pair led attacks, the midfielders provided support, and the rear player focused on interceptions and counterattacks.
"Wood's usual formation," Cedric said.
He then studied Slytherin's arrangement and frowned.
"A 4-1-0 setup. Flint's got guts. Or maybe the new brooms have gone to his head."
Sean, a complete outsider when it came to Quidditch strategy, caught the warning in Cedric's tone.
"Explain?"
Cedric smirked. "Top student in the school, but hopeless at Quidditch."
He pointed toward Slytherin's half of the field.
"Look—aside from the Keeper, they've left the backfield completely exposed. Cassius is alone in midfield as support. This formation works beautifully when you're dominating, but once the momentum shifts…"
Cedric glanced at Cassius.
"The support player gets crushed. Cassius has decent skills and good instincts, but there's no way he can stop Wood and Angelina by himself."
Cedric had joined the Hufflepuff team in his second year and had already spent two years studying the players, formations, and strategies of every house.
"Flint is betting that the Nimbus 2001's superior speed will let them overwhelm Gryffindor offensively. Even if Gryffindor counters, he thinks they can use their speed to recover in time."
Sean nodded in understanding. "So it all comes back to overconfidence."
"In other words, they're doomed," Chris concluded.
Sean stared silently at Cassius, considering whether he should help.
During last year's Quidditch match, he had secretly learned a spell from Quirrell.
"Should I cast a Confundus Charm on Gryffindor?" the thought crossed his mind.
For the first ten minutes, Slytherin dominated. Their superior broom speed translated into rapid scoring.
But after twenty minutes, Gryffindor seized an opportunity and began to counterattack.
Just as Cedric had predicted, Flint and the other attackers failed to get back in time. Cassius, left alone, stood no chance against the coordinated assault of Wood and Angelina.
Breathing heavily, Cassius watched as Wood scored Gryffindor's first goal.
Then he looked at his teammates.
The pressure crashed down on him.
It felt as though Gryffindor had scored because he had failed.
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