"Actually—"
Dumbledore's aged face was tinged with the flush of his twilight years as he chuckled.
"Severus went through much the same thing as you in those first few years.
Charlie Weasley, the Weasley family's second son, was a Quidditch prodigy much like James."
"Hmph—"
Professor Slughorn shot Dumbledore a sidelong glance and gave two cold laughs.
"After that Charlie graduated, Gryffindor got Harry Potter. I suppose you want to say Gryffindor House is blessed, always under god's protection?"
"You know I'm not so narrow-minded, Horace—"
Dumbledore smiled gently.
"What I would rather see is players from all four teams fighting bravely on the Quidditch pitch, striving for glory for their Houses and themselves, and putting on splendid matches for all of us."
"You always leave no opening, Albus—"
Professor Slughorn snorted twice more. After smiling at Hermione, he walked toward the lakeshore.
Hermione did not feel displeased by Professor Slughorn's veiled jab at Professor Dumbledore.
In fact, she rather liked Professor Slughorn.
Though this fat old man from Dumbledore's generation had flaws of one sort or another, he was not like Professor Snape in class.
He was basically able to treat students equally, rather than obstinately favoring only Slytherin students.
Dumbledore also headed toward the lakeshore. It seemed the two men intended to have a chat, or perhaps discuss something.
Hermione's gaze remained fixed on the two professors by the lake, and she did not even notice Harry and Ron descending from the sky.
"You have to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Loya!"
In the end, Loya had not managed to shake off Harry. But judging from the dense beads of sweat on Harry's forehead, he too had given the contest his utmost effort.
The moment he got off his broomstick, Harry, his face alight with excitement, immediately invited