Boys Should Be Hard on Themselves Too

By employing a strategy that cost the enemy eight hundred while costing himself a thousand, Aaron battled the house team for over another hour. In the end, he managed to seize the Golden Snitch before Terence, though the price was a broken right arm after being struck by a Bludger.

With one arm hanging limply at his side, he controlled his broom down to the field below in utter exhaustion. The tension suddenly drained from his mind, and he nearly failed to stay on his feet. After stumbling, he dropped onto the grass.

Abei immediately rushed over, looking at him worriedly. Then it turned around and bared a ferocious expression at the six players who were landing one after another.

This was the first time it had gotten angry. Several sharp fangs protruded from its mouth, and the sides of its clothes bulged slightly.

Aaron immediately pressed his left hand against its back. He silently shook his head at Abei when it turned to look at him, telling it not to reveal its wings.

"Sorry, seniors! Looks like I got lucky and won this match again." Aaron endured the pain in his arm and forced out a smile. "Don't forget our bet. Don't make me attend training, and don't break the rules during official matches!"

No one on the house team spoke. Even Marcus, who had always been so arrogant, remained uncharacteristically silent.

No matter how unwilling they were to admit it, every one of them had lost to this first-year tonight.

There was only one reason.

He was more ruthless than they were.

After Marcus was knocked down, the remaining six players had been both shocked and furious, immediately intensifying their "revenge."

At first, they had only intended to play with Aaron for a while before knocking him off his broom.

But they had not expected him to be so much harder to deal with than they had imagined. He repeatedly survived in the narrowest gaps, and by the later stages, when they were beginning to tire, they no longer had the strength to keep him contained.

That gave him more and more chances to chase the Golden Snitch. Although those opportunities were brief, they were still far better than merely preventing Terence from catching it as he had at the start.

Even that would have been fine. At worst, it would have become a test of endurance. Whoever could not hold out first would lose.

Including Terence, there were six of them. No matter how they looked at it, their odds of winning were several times better than Aaron's. They practically lacked the conditions to lose.

But who could have expected him not to play by the usual rules? In the final seconds before the match ended, the Golden Snitch was flying close to two Bludgers.

As the Seeker, Terence was intimidated by the situation. He did not dare approach and could only follow closely behind.

Aaron, however, seized the chance and dove straight at it. Before everyone's disbelieving eyes, he reached for the Golden Snitch.

There was no surprise. Both Bludgers attacked at once. Aaron narrowly evaded the first, but the second struck his right arm. The sharp crack of bone breaking rang especially clearly across the field.

Yet he did not make a sound. He decisively stretched out his left hand, caught the Golden Snitch, and won the match.

Putting themselves in his place, they did not have that kind of courage.

This had only been an ordinary match. No, it did not even qualify as an ordinary match. They had absolutely no reason to take such a risk.

Even in a real major competition... well, they still would not have had the nerve to trade an arm for such a slim chance at victory.

But Aaron had done exactly that, and he had succeeded.

After more than two hours of playing against him, they certainly did not think Aaron was some brainless fool relying solely on reckless momentum to grab the ball.

Clearly, he had already considered the price he would have to pay before making that move.

Was he really eleven years old? Did he have to be so ruthless toward himself?

Through that mad act, these seven self-important Slytherins understood that Aaron was not someone they could push around.

"Since none of you are saying anything, I'll take that as agreement." Aaron slowly got to his feet.

"Rest assured, they will keep their promise," Snape said. Then he looked at Marcus. "You know what you should be doing before the Quidditch matches, don't you? You're the captain. I expect you to lead by example. If you cannot even meet such a simple requirement, then do not call yourselves students of Severus Snape again."

"Understood!" Marcus nodded. He knew they could no longer skirt the line in the future. If they wanted good results, they could only train properly.

"Don't disappoint me," Snape said flatly. He then supported Aaron. "Your condition is not very good. I'll take you to the infirmary first."

"Fine! I feel like my arm is about to break." Aaron grimaced in pain.

"About to break? Mr. Gaius, you should have more confidence. It has already broken."

Aaron gave a bitter smile. "If you had been a little more reliable, Professor, and saved me in time, this wouldn't have happened."

Snape's expression turned strange. "You ran into it yourself. None of us expected that. Surely you cannot expect me to take responsibility? Besides, you never cried for help."

"Fine! You have a point there. I can't argue with you. But Professor, you really don't understand humor."

When they arrived at the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey hurried over. As an experienced school nurse, she could tell what had happened the moment she saw Aaron's arm. She said irritably, "School has barely started, and you, a first-year student, already dared to play Quidditch and broke your arm."

"Madam Pomfrey, I know better than you what is wrong with my student," Snape said flatly. "If you want to lecture him, do it another time. Curfew is almost here, and I do not wish to escort him to the common room afterward. Could you please treat him quickly and give him something that works as fast as possible?"

"Hmph! Wait a moment," Madam Pomfrey said. She went to a nearby shelf, took down a small bottle of red potion, and handed it directly to Aaron. "Drink this, then get a night's rest. That should be enough. But for the next two days, you'd better not use your right arm too much, or you may have to come back again."

"Understood!" Aaron said sincerely. Without hesitation, he grabbed the bottle and drained it in one gulp.

The medicine tasted strange—bitter and astringent, utterly disgusting—but its effects were immediate.

Less than ten seconds after drinking it, Aaron felt warmth spread through his arm. The pain was covered by a faint itch, and he could even make some slight movements.

"Do you need a bandage for your arm?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"That won't be necessary."

"If you do not want to return to the common room, you can recuperate in the infirmary for two days. I trust Professor Snape will prepare a leave note for you."

Aaron was tempted. After all, he was injured, and getting two days of sick leave would be ideal.

There were no especially important classes in the first year anyway. Most of the knowledge could be found in the textbooks.

But looking at the empty white beds, he found them somewhat unsettling at night.

Although Hogwarts was no stranger to ghosts, this environment truly affected one's mood. The bed in his dormitory felt much more welcoming.

"Thank you very much for the suggestion, Madam Pomfrey. But I do not want anyone to know that I was injured. Besides, I'm not seriously hurt now, so I won't let it interfere with my classes."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "All right, young wizard. Since you have such firm ideas, I won't keep you. There are still twenty minutes until curfew. You can make it back in time."

"Understood," Aaron said. He got up and headed for the door.

What he had not expected was that Snape, that poker-faced man, actually escorted him all the way to the entrance of the common room without saying a single word.

It was clear that he cared deeply for his students. He was simply extremely bad at expressing it.

"Professor, if you did not always wear such a cold expression, you would definitely be more popular than anyone," Aaron said meaningfully.

"Hah! Do you think I am concerned about you? Don't be ridiculous. I was merely worried that you might get lost or fail to return to the common room in time. If Filch caught you, it would be Slytherin's reputation that suffered."

"Yes, yes, you're the professor. You're right," Aaron said quickly. Then he made a welcoming gesture, though not toward the entrance, but toward the corridor beside them.

After all, this was the students' common room. If he invited stern Snape inside, many students would probably have nightmares tonight.

Snape gave a "hmph" and left expressionlessly.

Aaron spoke the password, opened the door, and quietly made his way toward his dormitory.

But he happened to run into Malfoy, who looked at Aaron in surprise. Aaron practically had exhaustion written across his face. "Where have you been? Why are you back so late?"

Aaron shot him a glare. "Thanks to you, Professor Snape wanted me to join the house team, so he dragged me over for a trial. More than two hours! I was almost exhausted to death."

Malfoy's eyes darted away. He was embarrassed, but also expectant. "You passed the trial, right?"

"Of course. The house team seniors all agreed to let me be Slytherin's Seeker."

"That's great!" Malfoy said excitedly. "With you playing, we'll definitely be able to defeat Harry Potter."

Aaron: ...

Just how much did this brat hate Harry Potter?

But never mind. They were both eleven-year-old children. A little youthful rivalry was nothing more than a joke.

"Ahem! We can talk about that later. You absolutely have to keep my becoming Slytherin's Seeker a secret. I do not want too many people to know before the official match."

"Don't worry. I've always been excellent at keeping secrets," Malfoy promised, patting his chest.

For some reason, seeing how confidently he swore it, Aaron instead felt that Malfoy would not be able to keep the secret at all.