Bludger Duel

Terence grinned. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Robin Sear ducked the attack and swung his bat in one smooth motion. The Bludger shot toward the tail of Terence's broom!

"Hmph. You can't even aim, and you want to join the team? You might as well quit now!"

Terence tipped his broom upward and rose half a meter, dodging the attack. "Is that so?"

"Oh, really?"

Terence looked into those unfathomable black eyes and felt a sudden rush of panic. He pointed his broom down, but it was already too late.

With a thunderous bang, the Bludger, only slightly smaller than a football, slammed into his right side. He and his broom flew seven or eight meters before his back struck the stone wall!

"Robin Sear, I'm getting serious!"

Enduring the pain, Terence steadied his broom, then dived after the Bludger.

Bang! The struck black ball spiraled through the air, trailing black smoke as it hurtled toward Robin's forehead!

"Good, Terence. I'm getting serious too!"

Robin dipped his broom fifteen centimeters and raised his bat high, sending the Bludger back. The players on the grass watched a black blur flash back and forth through the air as the two young wizards, one tall and one short, swung with all their might to drive it at each other.

Robin moved with agility and reacted quickly. Every time he dodged an attack, he turned it into another shot at Terence!

Drip! Drip!

Blood fell onto the grass, drawing gasps from the crowd.

"Flint, you're the captain. Stop them! If something happens, who's going to take responsibility?" Oliver Wood, drawn over by the sound of the bats, asked with a frown.

Blood had been spilled, and Flint wanted to stop them too. But he knew how fiercely competitive Slytherins were. Neither would stop until one of them won.

Calling for a halt would only make him lose face. "Wood, Slytherin business is none of your concern!"

"You're insane. You're absolutely insane!"

Wood mounted his broom and had barely risen two meters when a thunderous thud rang out. Terence fell face-first to the ground, and Wood hurried down to check on him!

"Ah, it hurts! It hurts so much! Don't touch my left leg—ah!"

"Flint, his left leg is broken. We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey at once. Robin, you went too far!"

Wood looked at the ball-shaped mark on Terence's trousers, his displeasure plain.

Robin clearly remembered that Terence had set out to break his leg from the start.

An eye for an eye was the first rule of survival in the magical world. Otherwise, people would think they could push you around.

"Oliver, bumps and bruises happen in a wizard's duel. You're making too much of it!"

Compared with how he had looked before taking off, the black-eyed boy's hair was merely a little messier and his robes a little more wrinkled. Far from tired, he looked excited.

Terence had fared much worse. His green uniform was spotted with blood, every patch of exposed skin was either swollen or bruised, and one of his legs was broken.

The more Wood compared them, the colder he felt. The boy before him was like the weeds in the Black Lake: calm on the surface, with untold danger lurking beneath!

"Hogwarts forbids students from fighting. Robin Sear, I'm telling Professor McGonagall what happened tonight. You can expect to be punished!"

"Fighting? Oliver Wood, have you misunderstood what that word means?"

Professor Snape, dressed in black robes, appeared silently behind them, his face expressionless!

"Professor, when did you get here?" Flint asked, avoiding his gaze.

"That crash against the ground nearly burst my eardrums. Terence, Slytherin students keep their promises. From now on, you're responsible for the team's equipment!"

Terence had accepted the challenge because he was certain he would win. It had never occurred to him that he might end up handling equipment.

Ignoring his injured leg, he limped forward. "Professor Snape, I trained day and night for the matches. I even skipped several of Professor Quirrell's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. You can't do this to me!"

"In Slytherin, strength earns respect. You're being assigned to equipment duty not just because you lost a bet, but because you aren't good enough. Say one more word and you're off the team!"

Tears filled Terence's eyes, but he did not dare argue again. Derrian helped him away to see Madam Pomfrey.

"Professor Snape, whatever started this, Robin injured a fellow student. You should punish him fairly and openly!"

Robin had just put the bat and Bludger back into the cardboard box when he heard Wood denouncing him with an air of righteous conviction.

Does he live by the sea? Because he's certainly sticking his nose into everything!

"Professor, Terence and I were competing, not fighting. The other players can vouch for us!"

Snape's attitude was clear: he intended to side with Robin. The players caught on and chimed in. "Yes, Professor. It was a competition, not a fight. We can vouch for them!"

"You're... lying! Professor, that's not what happened... mmph!"

Even after a Silencing Charm was cast on him, Oliver Wood kept making muffled noises, still intent on seeing justice done. Frowning, Snape cast another spell and sent him to the far end of the pitch!

"Wood, let it go. Terence started it, and Robin only fought back. Madam Pomfrey will heal his leg!"

Harry stepped in front of Wood to reason with him, and the other players came forward to hold him back.

"Oliver Wood really is stubborn. Robin, I didn't know you had a talent for being a Beater!"

A Seeker spent the match flying after the Golden Snitch. Apart from the moment he caught it and became the center of attention, he was practically on the sidelines!

Being a Beater was different. You could chase Bludgers and be chased by them. Pulling off a few flashy moves while danger flew at you—how cool would that be?

"Professor, can I apply to be a Beater?"

"You want to break the opposing Beaters' legs too? Robin Sear, listen carefully. You must catch the Golden Snitch in the Quidditch tournament. Otherwise... you won't be attending Potions Class anymore!" With that, Snape swept away, his robes billowing behind him!

A threat. Definitely a threat. Snape knew exactly how much Robin wanted to study Potions. Robin pursed his lips helplessly. "Flint, could you teach me how to catch the Golden Snitch?"

Judging by Robin's performance just now, Flint did not think there was much he could teach him. But Robin was clearly the focus of Snape's attention, so Flint gritted his teeth and offered a few broad pointers.

To his surprise, Robin picked things up quickly. He put even those vague pointers to good use and caught the Golden Snitch three times in five training runs.

Three times. Flint knew better than anyone what that meant.

When training ended, Robin held his broom and said, "Flint, you're a good captain. You didn't hold anything back. Three catches in five runs? I can hardly bear to look at that record. I'll keep trying next time!"

With that, he swaggered away!

"Captain, that kid's too arrogant. We need to find a way to knock him down a peg..." A player friendly with Terence raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Hah! Can you beat him on the pitch, or do you have the nerve to challenge Professor Snape?"