Draco's Stubborn Denial

By Monday, the weather had turned especially fine.

Harry opened his eyes and noticed obvious changes in his body.

The muscles all over his body no longer ached. In their place was an unprecedented sense of exhilaration, as though he could now do many things he had never even dared attempt before.

Just one training session had produced this kind of effect. If he kept it up all the way through, he might actually achieve the physical fitness of a professional Quidditch player.

"Morning." After greeting him, Ron in the neighboring bed noticed that something about him seemed different.

When Seamus and Dean had massaged him with Ron last night, Harry had screamed and shouted the whole time. Who would have thought he would recover after just one night's sleep?

"Harry, how do you feel?"

"Great. Better than ever."

Ron sat down beside his bed with a look of amazement, lifted Harry's pajama top, and carefully examined the muscles on his upper body, which were no longer red.

"It doesn't hurt anymore?"

"Mm."

"It doesn't itch anymore?"

"Mm."

Ron reached out and poked his abdominal muscles. "They really are firmer."

Harry quickly pulled his shirt back down. "Vincent's training is really effective. I don't think we need to worry about me getting hurt during the competition anymore."

Resistance training was, bluntly put, just taking a beating. The first task tested courage, and as long as he got beaten enough times, he would not have to hold back out of fear during the actual competition.

"Yeah." Ron's voice was a little sour. "I'm really jealous that you were chosen as a Champion. Vincent trains you to improve your fitness during the week, and Sirius Black and Professor Lupin teach you magic on the weekends. When the competition begins, you'll definitely beat Malfoy."

Harry awkwardly shifted to the edge of the bed and sat beside him. "Ron, how about I ask Vincent for you? Haven't you always wanted to join the school team? If he helps train your fitness, you'll definitely pass the tryouts."

After Wood graduated, the Gryffindor team had an opening for a Keeper. There were no matches this school year, making it the perfect time to prepare for next year's tryouts.

A flash of delight flickered deep in Ron's eyes. "Forget it. There's still a year before player tryouts, while your first task starts in less than a month."

Seeing that Ron seemed to feel much better, Harry finally let out a sigh of relief.

Ever since the night the Goblet of Fire selected the Champions, Ron had been acting rather strangely.

Both his best friend and his sworn enemy had been chosen as Champions. He must have been feeling awful.

Maybe it was because of inferiority, maybe jealousy, or perhaps both.

But no matter what, as long as Ron gained a little more confidence, he would surely get better over time.

After changing clothes, the two headed to the Great Hall. The moment they entered, they saw a huge silver-and-green banner hanging on the wall.

"Slytherin, the victor is king! Slytherin, never retreats! Slytherin, can do anything!"

Obviously, it was the work of some young master.

"Potter~" A drawling, mocking voice came from behind them.

Draco stood proudly before Harry with his two lackeys. "You're looking pretty good. Seems Wayne's lousy physical training does have a bit of an effect after all."

Harry gave him a quick once-over. "Malfoy, whether the training works or not, don't you know that better than anyone?"

"Heh—" Draco sneered. "I know that bastard Wayne has been treating us differently, but it doesn't matter. When the competition starts, I'll let everyone know who Hogwarts's true Champion really is."

"Treating you differently?" Ron could not help laughing. "Malfoy, don't tell me you don't know why Vincent tests everyone before training?"

Draco froze, as though something had suddenly occurred to him.

Ron's face was full of mockery. "You really don't know? Then let me tell you. Vincent's test is meant to find your physical limit, then adjust the intensity of the resistance training based on your current fitness."

Draco understood.

So it was not differential treatment. It was because he was too weak.

"Hmph!" He snorted through his nose. "What's so great about that lousy training? No matter how good your physical fitness is, one spell can still knock you down."

Coming from him, those words had absolutely no credibility.

How many times had Vincent physically disarmed him of his wand already? And that was not even counting how many times he had been dragged into the woods and beaten up.

"Keep talking tough, Malfoy."

"Weasley, you're not even a Champion. What does this have to do with you?"

The atmosphere immediately grew tense.

At the Gryffindor table, Fleur wore an expression of eager amusement. "Vincent, your two students are about to start fighting."

"Students?" Vincent turned and followed her gaze. "When did they become my students? How come I didn't know?"

Fleur teased, "You're training their physical fitness. Strictly speaking, they should call you Coach, shouldn't they?"

Vincent nodded. "At most, they can be considered my trainees. They're not students."

"Oh." Fleur gave Hermione beside him a meaningful glance. "What about her? She can count as your student, right?"

"Cough, cough—" Hermione choked on her oatmeal.

She hurriedly wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Are you that free today? Don't you have classes?"

"Yes." Fleur quickly shook her head again. "But our headmistress went out, so we have self-study today."

The curriculum differed from one wizarding school to another. Therefore, the student delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were taught by the headmasters leading them.

Vincent gave her an envious look. "Lucky. We've got Care of Magical Creatures today. Hagrid will definitely bring out his precious Blast-Ended Skrewts again."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts?" Fleur looked curious. "Hagrid is that big, burly professor, right? Are Blast-Ended Skrewts a new species he bred?"

Vincent earnestly advised her, "I'd suggest you give up any fantasies about them as soon as possible. Their appearance... how should I put it? It's very distinctive."

Hermione shuddered involuntarily. "Isn't your Beauxbatons carriage parked by the Forbidden Forest? Hagrid put up a shed beside his hut, and the Blast-Ended Skrewts stay in there."

Fleur thought for a moment. "I haven't paid much attention to that side of the grounds."

"You can always hear them making crackling noises, can't you?"

"No, our carriage has soundproofing magic." She seemed even more interested now. "Blast-Ended Skrewts make noises?"

"Yeah. They can even propel themselves by spraying flames."

Fleur looked at the two of them eagerly. "Can I sit in on your Care of Magical Creatures class? Don't worry, I'll cover my face. I won't disrupt your lesson."

Vincent and Hermione exchanged a look, unable to help admiring her courage inwardly.

"Sure. Just don't regret it."