Quidditch

On Friday morning, Zhang Wen went to see Professor Filius Flitwick.

Flitwick's office was beside the Charms classroom on the third floor. The room was small but crammed with all sorts of magical items and books. The bookshelves reached the ceiling, and Flitwick had to stand on a stack of books to reach the top shelf.

When Zhang Wen knocked, Flitwick was practicing a charm that made teacups tap-dance. Three teacups were kicking their little legs in neat formation on the desk, with quite a good sense of rhythm.

"Professor Zhang!" Flitwick jumped down from the pile of books and nearly stumbled. "Come in, please! What can I do for you?"

"Professor Flitwick, I'm researching a defensive charm based on the principle of reflection," Zhang Wen said. "I need several mirrors with Shatterproof Charms on them. I was wondering if you could help."

Flitwick's eyes immediately lit up.

"A defensive charm based on reflection?" His voice rose half an octave. "You mean bouncing spells back through a mirror? That's a fascinating idea! It's theoretically feasible, but controlling the angle of reflection is a major challenge—"

"Yes, which is why I need to conduct some preliminary experiments first," Zhang Wen picked up where he left off. "If the mirrors aren't sturdy enough and get shattered by magical shockwaves during the experiment, it would be a waste."

"I completely understand!" Flitwick was already rummaging through cupboards. "I have several mirrors used for teaching here, and they already have Shatterproof Charms on them. What size do you need?"

The size of an ordinary full-length mirror will do. The more, the better."

"I have six. Is that enough?"

"That's plenty."

Flitwick carried six mirrors out of a storage cabinet, then added an extra layer of reinforced Shatterproof Charm to each one.

"With this, they won't break even if a Troll smashes them with a fist," Flitwick said proudly. "Remember to tell me if your experiments make any progress! I'm very interested in the Reflective Defense Charm as a subject too—"

"I will." Zhang Wen shrank the mirrors and slipped them into his pocket. "Thank you for your help, Professor Flitwick."

"You're welcome, you're welcome! It's academic exchange, after all!"

As he left Flitwick's office, Zhang Wen silently marveled to himself—the little professor truly was a Charms genius. The Shatterproof Charm he had casually added was as strong as professional-grade protective magic.

Next, he needed to find suitable places to hang the mirrors.

He planned to place one at several key corners on the second-floor corridor, one in the corridor leading from the third floor to the library, and one at the fourth-floor staircase. These were all places students frequently passed through, as well as the areas where the Basilisk was most likely to emerge through the pipes.

As for an excuse—he planned to tell Filch that it was part of a "corridor safety improvement plan." The mirrors would help students see anyone approaching from the other side of corners and prevent collisions.

A very boring but entirely reasonable excuse.

Filch probably would not care. He only cared whether the corridors got dirty.

On Friday afternoon, Zhang Wen hung up the mirrors.

The process went more smoothly than expected. Hogwarts' corridors were already filled with all manner of strange decorations, so a few more mirrors drew no attention at all. The only minor incident was that after the mirror on the fourth floor had been hung, an old wizard in a nearby portrait spent a long time fixing his hair in it.

"Finally, a decent mirror," the old wizard said with satisfaction.

Zhang Wen took it as positive feedback.

Artoria helped him hang the two mirrors on the second floor. She was just tall enough to reach the proper height without needing to levitate them with magic.

"Are you sure the Basilisk will emerge from these locations?" she asked as she adjusted a mirror's angle.

"Not sure," Zhang Wen said. "In the original story, the locations where the Basilisk attacked weren't all among these places. But these are the main corridors, with the highest student traffic. Statistically speaking, placing mirrors here covers the most situations."

"Not enough," Artoria said.

"What?"

"Six mirrors aren't enough. The castle is too large."

Zhang Wen knew she was right. Hogwarts had seven floors plus a basement, and its corridors probably stretched for miles altogether. The range six mirrors could cover was extremely limited.

"But we can't hang mirrors all over the castle," Zhang Wen said. "That would be too obvious."

Artoria thought for a moment.

"We can distribute them to students."

"What?"

"Small mirrors. Have the students carry them with them."

Zhang Wen froze for a moment, then realized it was an excellent idea.

In the original story, Hermione had been carrying a small mirror. When the Basilisk attacked, she saw its eyes through the mirror's reflection and was only Petrified rather than killed.

If every student carried a mirror—

"But I can't just give every student a mirror for no reason," Zhang Wen said. "There has to be a reasonable excuse."

"Teaching supplies," Artoria said. "You can make them standard equipment for Defense Against the Dark Arts—used to practice reflection-based defensive techniques."

Zhang Wen stared at her for three seconds.

"Artoria."

"Yes?"

"Your tactical thinking is genuinely terrifying sometimes."

"Basic common sense," she said. "Issuing equipment to soldiers is a commander's responsibility."

Zhang Wen decided that in next week's class, he would formally announce that every student had to carry a small handheld mirror as a teaching aid for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The reason would be "practicing the use of reflective objects to observe enemies behind you."

The excuse perfectly matched its actual purpose. Except the "enemy behind you" would not be imaginary, but a real Basilisk.

Perfect.

Saturday afternoon was the Quidditch tryout.

Zhang Wen and Artoria arrived at the Quidditch pitch.

The pitch was much larger than Zhang Wen had imagined. Six golden hoop-shaped goalposts towered at either end of the field, while stands surrounded it on all sides, each draped with the flags of one of the four Houses.

Today was Gryffindor's tryout, and quite a few students had come to watch from the stands. Gryffindor naturally had the loudest cheers, but students from the other Houses had come to enjoy the spectacle too.

In the Slytherin stands, Zhang Wen noticed Malfoy sitting in the front row with Crabbe and Goyle. He had not come to cheer; he had come to scout the competition.

Professor McGonagall had already arrived and was seated on the staff platform. When she saw Zhang Wen, she gave him a slight nod.

Zhang Wen and Artoria sat beside McGonagall.

"Do you understand the rules of Quidditch?" McGonagall asked.

"More or less," Zhang Wen said. "Seven people per team, three types of balls, and the Seeker earns one hundred and fifty points by catching the Golden Snitch, ending the match."

"Basically correct," McGonagall said, with a hint of approval in her tone.

On the pitch, Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood was organizing the tryouts. Wood was a seventh-year Scottish boy whose obsession with Quidditch bordered on pathological. He held a tactical board covered in densely packed arrows and circles.

"This year, we need to select a new Chaser!" Wood's voice rang across the pitch. "Everyone trying out, form a line!"

About twelve Gryffindor students lined up. Zhang Wen noticed that Ginny Weasley was not among them—she was only a first-year, so she probably did not yet dare to participate.

The tryout began.

The candidates took turns mounting their brooms and flying into the air, circling the pitch twice before undergoing passing and shooting tests.

Most of them could only be described as average. Several had crooked flying postures, and one nearly crashed into a goalpost.

Zhang Wen did not know much about Quidditch, but Artoria watched with great concentration.

"The third person has good balance," she assessed. "But his upper body is too rigid. He'll lose speed when turning."

Zhang Wen turned to look at her. "Do you know horseback riding?"

"The principles of riding a horse and riding a broom are similar," Artoria said. "Controlling your center of gravity, coordinating your body, adapting to changes in speed—the essence is the same."

"The King of Knights commenting on Quidditch," Zhang Wen muttered. "This scene is incredibly surreal."

Artoria ignored him.

More than half the tryout passed, and Wood's expression grew increasingly unpleasant. The candidates were clearly not meeting his expectations.

Then the final candidate took the field.

A third-year red-haired girl—Angelina Johnson. No, Angelina should have been in a higher year. Zhang Wen looked more closely. It was Katie Bell, a third-year.

Katie's movements on the broom were crisp and efficient. She completed the two laps at the fastest speed, passed accurately, and scored seven out of ten shots.

Wood's expression finally improved somewhat.

"Bell! You're in!"

Applause broke out in the stands.

After the tryout ended, Wood began organizing a full-team practice. Gryffindor's lineup was: Wood as Keeper; Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell as Chasers; Fred and George Weasley as Beaters; and Harry Potter as Seeker.

Harry flew into the sky on his Nimbus 2000.

It was Zhang Wen's first time seeing Harry fly with his own eyes.

Honestly, he was a little stunned.

On the ground, Harry was an ordinary twelve-year-old boy—slender, not very tall, wearing glasses, and somewhat shy. But on a broom, he became a completely different person. His movements were so fluid that he did not look like a student with only one year of flying experience. He shifted speed effortlessly, and the angle at which he leaned during turns was exactly right.

He chased a practice ball used to simulate the Golden Snitch. The ball moved in erratic, high-speed patterns above the pitch, and Harry followed close behind as the distance between them steadily shrank.

At last, he dove, closed his hand around it, and caught the ball.

The entire process took less than forty seconds.

Cheers erupted from the stands. Fred and George whistled in the air.

"That child truly is talented," Professor McGonagall said from beside them, unable to conceal a trace of pride.

"It isn't just talent," Artoria said.

Both Zhang Wen and McGonagall turned toward her.

"His judgment in flight far surpasses that of others his age." Artoria's gaze followed Harry through the air. "He isn't chasing the ball. He's predicting its trajectory. His body reaches every turning point before the ball does."

McGonagall looked at Artoria, her eyes gaining another layer of approval.

"Miss Pendragon, you have a great deal of insight into competitive sports."

"The battlefield and the arena are the same in essence," Artoria said. "Only the rules differ."

McGonagall seemed to want to ask more, but in the end, she merely nodded.

After the practice ended, the students gradually returned to the changing rooms.

Zhang Wen and Artoria were preparing to leave the stands when an argument drew their attention.

At the entrance to the pitch, the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams ran into each other head-on.

Malfoy stood at the front of the Slytherin group. Every player behind him held a brand-new broom—a Nimbus 2001, the newest model, with silver lettering printed on its jet-black handle.

"The Malfoy Family sponsored new brooms for the entire team," Ron Weasley's voice came from the Gryffindor group, dripping with bitterness.

"Jealous, Weasley?" Malfoy lifted his chin. "You probably have trouble even getting off the ground on that broom of yours—"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry stepped in front of Ron.

"Oh, Potter." Malfoy's gaze swept over the Nimbus 2000 in Harry's hand. "That antique belongs in a museum. When the match starts, you won't even be able to see my tail light."

"Winning a match isn't about the broom," Hermione said as she emerged from behind the crowd, carrying a stack of books—she had probably been on her way to the library when the commotion caught her attention.

Malfoy turned to look at her.

Zhang Wen saw Malfoy open his mouth and knew what he was about to say.

In the original story, Malfoy said that word in this scene—"Mudblood."

That insulting term for wizards born to Muggles.

Zhang Wen rose from his seat in the stands.

"Mr. Malfoy."

His voice was not loud, but everyone on the pitch heard it.

Malfoy's mouth froze half-open, the words left unsaid. He looked up toward the stands.

Zhang Wen stood there, his expression calm.

"The tryouts are over. Everyone return to your own House," he said. "If you want to argue here, I can arrange for twenty points to be deducted from each side."

The Gryffindors immediately fell silent—they could not afford to lose House Cup points.

The Slytherins looked at Malfoy. Malfoy bit his lip and swallowed the words that had reached his mouth.

"Let's go," he said to the teammates behind him, then turned and left.

The crowd dispersed.

Hermione nodded in Zhang Wen's direction with a grateful expression. She probably did not know she had nearly been called a Mudblood, but she could sense that something was wrong.

Harry was the last to leave. He looked up at Zhang Wen, and the corner of his mouth moved slightly.

It was not a smile. It was more like confirmation—confirmation that this professor stood on their side.

On the way back, Artoria said, "You interrupted Malfoy."

"He was about to say a very ugly word," Zhang Wen said. "A word that insults someone's origins. If he had said it in public, the situation would have completely spiraled out of control. In the original story, Ron tried to teach him a lesson with his wand, but his old wand malfunctioned and the spell rebounded. He spent the entire afternoon vomiting slugs."

"Slugs?"

"Don't ask. It's disgusting."

Artoria decided not to ask further.

"You changed something," she said.

"What?"

"That word was never spoken," Artoria said. "In the original story you told me about, it was spoken and caused harm. But today, you stopped it."

Zhang Wen thought about it.

Yes. Another butterfly effect.

In the original story, the "Mudblood" incident was a landmark conflict early in the second year. It deepened the hostility between Gryffindor and Slytherin and made Hermione confront the malice of blood prejudice for the first time.

But today, that word had not been spoken.

Malfoy had swallowed it.

What did that mean?

Maybe it meant nothing. Malfoy might still have thought the same way inside.

But perhaps—just perhaps—malice left unspoken was a little lighter than malice spoken aloud. A prejudice interrupted before it could fully emerge had a little less power.

"Sometimes, stopping one sentence is enough," Zhang Wen said.

Artoria did not respond.

She walked beside him, keeping pace with his steps.

Zhang Wen had never noticed this detail before. During the Holy Grail War, Artoria had always walked half a step ahead of him—the instinctive position of a Servant protecting her Master, ready to block danger at any moment.

But he did not know when she had begun walking at his side.

Not ahead of him, not behind him.

Beside him.

Zhang Wen said nothing.

Some changes did not need to be pointed out.

Back in his office, Zhang Wen began organizing the week's progress.

Mirrors—six large mirrors had been hung. Next week, he would announce in class that students should carry small mirrors with them. A large number of handheld mirrors needed to be purchased; he would have to calculate the budget.

Roosters—three had been moved to the fourth-floor storeroom. One House-elf was responsible for feeding them each day. Hagrid did not know the real reason and thought they were for teaching purposes.

Ginny—Hermione had begun making contact. Their specific progress would need to be observed next week.

Neville Longbottom—Artoria's individual training continued. Supposedly, he had improved from dodging one out of thirty stones to dodging three out of twenty. The progress was remarkable.

Golden Trio Tutoring—Harry's Disarming Charm accuracy was already close to combat level. Ron Weasley had improved noticeably with his new wand. Hermione was attempting to "cast spells without using her brain"—her current success rate was around thirty percent.

Teaching plan—following McGonagall's suggestion, it had been completed and submitted for approval. Awaiting a reply.

Malfoy—to be observed. Lucius Malfoy's second letter had yet to arrive; perhaps he was preparing something bigger.

Zhang Wen closed his notes and rubbed his eyes.

Taken together, these tasks had far exceeded the workload of a normal professor. He taught during the day, graded assignments, ran after-school tutoring, and at night he still had to hang mirrors, patrol, and prepare defenses for the Chamber of Secrets.

He was beginning to understand why Defense Against the Dark Arts professors could only last one year.

It was not because of a curse.

It was because they were exhausted.

"Time for dinner." Artoria appeared at the doorway right on schedule.

Zhang Wen glanced out the window. It was already nearly dark.

"What's on the menu today?"

"Fish and chips, and roasted beef kidney."

"Have you established some kind of daily intelligence exchange with the kitchen elves?"

"I merely asked normally."

"Every day?"

"One needs to know the meal plan in advance."

Zhang Wen stood and followed her toward the Great Hall.

"Oh, right." He suddenly remembered something. "Next Monday, I'm planning to have a talk with Ginny. Nothing formal, just a few casual words in the corridor. See how she's doing."

Artoria nodded.

"I'll go with you."

"No need. She'll be nervous if you're there. Your presence is a little too overwhelming for a first-year girl."

Artoria considered it.

"I can stand farther away."

"That's called surveillance, not accompanying."

"Is there a difference?"

"...In normal social rules, there is."

Artoria did not quite agree, but she did not insist.

"If you judge that anything is wrong with her condition, tell me immediately."

"Of course."

The two of them entered the Great Hall.

The atmosphere at dinner was livelier than usual today. Probably because of the Quidditch tryouts, the tables of every house were discussing the comparative strength of this year's teams.

At the Gryffindor table, Wood was laying out the training plan for the whole team. Fred and George were imitating the way he spoke, making Katie and Angelina laugh nonstop. Harry sat to one side with a relaxed smile on his face.

At the Slytherin table, Malfoy was showing off his Nimbus 2001. But Zhang Wen noticed that he was no longer showing off to Crabbe and Goyle—but to a group of second- and third-year Slytherin students.

Was he expanding his social circle?

Or consolidating his position?

Perhaps both.

In a corner of the Gryffindor table, Ginny Weasley ate with her head lowered.

But today was different from last week.

Someone was sitting beside her.

Hermione.

Hermione spoke to Ginny while eating. Ginny still looked somewhat reserved, but she nodded and occasionally replied in a quiet voice.

Zhang Wen let out a small sigh of relief.

Hermione's efficiency was as astonishing as ever.

"Hermione is already taking action," he said quietly to Artoria.

Artoria glanced at the Gryffindor table and nodded.

"The first step is complete," she said.

Then she picked up her knife and fork.

Fish and chips clearly took priority over tactical assessment.