Equipment Couldn't Make Up for the Gap in Strength

After Halloween, Hermione gradually forgave Ron and Harry, and the relationship between the three was no longer so strained.

Aaron's stepping forward this time also left an indelible impression on Hermione's heart. However, he did not know that. In his view, their revolutionary friendship was still only at the good-friends stage, far from becoming something more. It was nowhere near as important as getting stronger through Sign-in.

It was worth mentioning that Harry and Ron's views of Snape had changed a little as well. Perhaps he was not quite so unbearable after all. After all, the head of Slytherin arriving before anyone else to save a Gryffindor student already said a great deal.

The next day, in the Great Hall.

Although it was breakfast time, the Great Hall was clearly livelier than usual.

Because today was Planet Six—no, because the Quidditch season was about to begin, and the first match would be Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

Harry sat at the table absentmindedly. His plate was filled with exquisite food, but he had no appetite at all.

"Eat some toast! Come on, eat."

"Ron's right, Harry. You've got a big match ahead of you!"

"But I'm not hungry," Harry said.

Snape walked over with an amused smile on his face. "Good luck today, Potter. As the famous Harry Potter, I'm sure a little Quidditch match will be a piece of cake for you, even if your opponent is Slytherin."

After saying that, Snape walked toward the teachers' table, leaving the three of them staring at one another.

"He hasn't changed at all, always making those snide remarks," Ron huffed unhappily. "He made it sound like Slytherin had already won."

"Don't say that. Aaron's flying skills are really impressive," Harry said. This was his first match, and he was already nervous enough. On top of that, his opponent was someone with flying talent no weaker than his own.

"So what?" Ron was still unconvinced, though his voice had grown quieter. "Fred and George asked around about Slytherin's training too. They heard that Aaron has never attended a single practice."

"No way!" Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. "Could he have been training in secret?"

"No. I asked specifically. Wood takes this Quidditch match very seriously. He sends people to the pitch almost every day to keep an eye on each House's roster and training. Until today, the ones active on Slytherin's training grounds were still their original players, and Terence was still their Seeker. Though for some reason, they really have been training hard—much harder than before."

Harry thought about it for a moment, then seemed greatly relieved. "Then Aaron probably joined the House team at the last minute."

"Exactly." Ron patted his chest. "So be more confident. No matter how talented he is at flying, he can't possibly be a match for you after you've trained for weeks."

"Is that so?" A surge of confidence suddenly rose in Harry's chest, and even his appetite seemed to improve considerably.

"I think you shouldn't make wild guesses," Hermione suddenly said, pouring a bucket of cold water over the flame of confidence in Harry's heart. "Your guesses might not be right. You haven't known Aaron for just one day. Do you really think he would do something he wasn't prepared for?"

"Hermione!" Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't boost others' morale and crush your own. Aaron hasn't trained for over a month."

"I know I'm being blunt, but what about Snape? Do you think Professor Snape would casually choose a first-year student to be Seeker?" Hermione asked. Harry and Ron were instantly left speechless, and an inexplicable heaviness settled in their hearts.

"How about you ask Aaron what preparations he's made for the Quidditch match over the past month?" Ron said weakly. "You're closest to him. If you ask, maybe he'll tell you."

"Heh." Hermione showed a hint of mockery. "Sometimes I really wonder whether you're an idiot. That's obviously confidential team information. The match is about to start, and you want me to ask about that? How is that any different from asking him to betray his teammates at the last minute? Harry, you're a Seeker too. Do you think that would be appropriate?"

"Of course not," Harry said.

Ron could not quite save face and said awkwardly, "I was just curious. After all, it concerns Gryffindor's honor."

Just then, the sound of birdsong rang out. Harry's owl Hedwig flew over carrying a long package and set it down before him on the table.

"Mail this early in the morning?" Hermione said in surprise.

"But I never get mail!" Harry was even more surprised. He wondered who could have sent him this package. Could his aunt and uncle have sent him something? Don't make him laugh. Their whole family would rather he died outside and never came back.

"Open it first," Ron said, then immediately started unwrapping the package.

A moment later, an exquisite Flying Broomstick appeared before the three of them.

"It's no ordinary broom, Harry. It's a Nimbus 2000." Ron pointed at the Nimbus 2000 label on the end of the broom, excitement practically spilling from his face.

"But who sent it?" Harry murmured. Then he seemed to realize something and turned toward the teachers' table. Sure enough, Professor McGonagall was smiling at him, and he instantly understood.

When Snape saw the brand-new broom, several dark lines appeared across his forehead. "Minerva, you really are generous. You just gave away a Nimbus 2000?"

"Not as generous as you. You kept your secret well enough that I didn't even know you'd replaced your Seeker at the last minute," Professor McGonagall shot back.

"At the last minute?" Snape smiled faintly. "That wording isn't quite precise. Aaron joined the House team over a month ago, shortly after you made an exception and recruited Harry Potter into yours."

McGonagall frowned. She had not known that, but for Snape to value Aaron so highly, his strength should not be weak. At the very least, he should be better than Terence.

But when she looked at the Nimbus 2000 she had spent a fortune on, her confidence rose again.

Equipment could not decide everything, but when the difference in skill was not great, the side with better equipment often held more advantages. And Harry Potter had the greatest flying talent among Gryffindor's first-years. He would definitely make good use of this Flying Broomstick.

"No matter what, Gryffindor will definitely win this Quidditch match," Professor McGonagall said confidently. She absolutely could not lose in terms of momentum.

"I'll wait and see," Snape said coldly before walking toward Aaron.

Aaron was calmly eating breakfast when he suddenly noticed the surrounding area had gone quiet and a figure had appeared beside the table. He helplessly put down his fork. "Professor Snape, do you know it's very rude to suddenly appear behind someone while they're eating?"

"Harry Potter has switched to a Nimbus 2000. You'd better pay attention when you go out there. If you lose..."

"There is no 'if.' I won't lose. To use a simple example, even if a first-year student had the Elder Wand, he still wouldn't be a match for a prefect."

"Hmph!" Snape raised an eyebrow, but inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Quite confident, aren't you? Let's hope your performance on the pitch won't disappoint Slytherin."

"It definitely won't. I don't make promises lightly, but once I make one, I will keep it," Aaron said calmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Snape nodded in satisfaction and left the Great Hall without another word.

Only after Snape left did Draco come over. "Aaron, what you said just now was so domineering. You even managed to bluff Professor Snape."

"Sigh, it can't be helped. I've had to be independent since I was young," Aaron said sentimentally. "My Parents were away from home for long periods, so whenever guests came over, I was the one who received them. After doing it enough times, I gradually learned the art of speaking. Put simply: speak to people like people, and speak to ghosts like ghosts."

Draco swallowed. "That really hasn't been easy for you."

"It hasn't, but what can I do? I'm an only child. Even if I don't want to, the glory of the Gaius Family has to be inherited and carried forward by me. Isn't it the same for you?"

Malfoy silently lowered his head. While feeling inferior, he was also glad that he had been born into a good family—the heir of the Malfoy Family.

Pure-blood among pure-bloods. An unbroken pure-blood lineage spanning thousands of years was an incomparable glory.

In other words, as long as they did not make any major mistakes, that glory could be passed down. But restoring the Malfoy Family's former splendor was still a long and arduous task.

His great-grandfather had passed that task to his grandfather, his grandfather had passed it to his father, and now his father seemed to want to place it on his shoulders.

At that thought, Draco suddenly shuddered. No, this curse had to end with his generation.

"What's wrong? You're not sick, are you?"

"No. I just suddenly figured some things out," Draco said.

"That's good. Help me with something. When I go out for the match later, I'll leave Abei in your care." As Aaron spoke, he picked Abei up from beneath the table.

"This..." Draco looked at the irresistibly adorable Abei and nodded blankly.