Miss Malfoy, you really do fly better than me

Ron's voice carried far across the Entrance Hall.

Several students who had been heading upstairs stopped almost simultaneously.

"A Seeker?"

"Harry Potter?"

"Isn't he a first-year?"

Harry glanced at Ron. Ron looked back at him, finally loosening his grip on Harry's arm.

"Are you serious?"

"Professor McGonagall told me to start training with Wood."

"Oliver Wood?"

"Yes."

Ron's eyes lit up again. "If Fred and George find out, they'll definitely-"

"Potter." A voice interrupted him.

Malfoy had entered the Entrance Hall.

The girl's gray-green eyes were fixed on Harry. Behind her, Goyle and Crabbe stopped as well.

"Professor McGonagall made you Seeker?"

"I'm just training for now."

"As a Seeker?"

"Yes."

Malfoy pressed her lips together.

So it was true. She hadn't misheard earlier.

She had flown faster than Potter, turned more steadily than Potter, and even Madam Hooch had praised her in front of everyone.

Yet Potter was the one joining the team. As Seeker, no less!

The girl's fingers slowly tightened around her textbooks.

"I won that race just now."

"Yes, you won." Harry answered very quickly.

The next words Malfoy had prepared abruptly stalled.

"You know that?"

"I was right behind you. Of course I know."

"Then why did you-"

"Miss Malfoy, you really do fly better than me." Harry looked at her, his tone earnest. "Your control through the turn was incredibly precise. You barely slowed down at all. I went too wide, and by the time I came back, I was already behind."

The girl's chin paused slightly in midair.

He noticed?

When she had rounded the marker earlier, she had deliberately adjusted her direction ahead of time. Even Goyle and Crabbe could only say, "You flew so fast."

That idiot Potter had actually noticed.

Beside them, Ron moved his lips, but ultimately said nothing.

The girl looked at Harry, her tense shoulders unwittingly relaxing a little.

But she soon lifted her chin again.

"Then why did Professor McGonagall choose you?"

"She liked my reaction when I caught that ball," Harry said. "She specifically reminded me that I still need to work on my turns and landings."

"Madam Hooch said that too." Hermione nodded beside him.

Malfoy glanced at her, then looked back at Harry.

So Professor McGonagall also knew that Potter still had plenty of things he needed to practice.

At that thought, the breath that had been stuck in the girl's chest finally flowed a little more freely.

"Of course you need to practice."

She answered with absolute certainty.

"When you landed just now, you even had to step forward."

"Yes."

"And you turned too late."

"I'll remember that."

"And another-" Malfoy suddenly stopped.

Ron was looking at her, and so was Goyle. Crabbe's expression was gradually becoming very familiar.

The girl immediately hugged her textbooks tighter.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Potter. I never agreed to keep teaching you."

Harry nodded.

"I know. You were only pointing out my problems just now, Miss Malfoy."

"Exactly." She gave a little huff. At least he had some discernment.

Harry glanced at her textbooks, however, and suddenly asked, "Would you like to join me next time I practice turning?"

Malfoy froze.

Together again? Potter was inviting her himself?

The corners of the girl's lips twitched slightly before she quickly reined them in.

"What, ready to let me beat you again?"

"I still want to see if I can catch up. I did promise Professor McGonagall, after all."

"Then you'd better practice hard."

"Of course." Harry smiled and nodded.

Only then did Malfoy feel a little more satisfied.

That's more like it.

But catching up to me won't be that easy!

The Entrance Hall gradually grew more crowded.

Some people looked toward Harry, while others quietly asked whether Professor McGonagall had really put a first-year on the team.

Ron very much wanted to answer.

Harry glanced at him, and he finally swallowed the words already on the tip of his tongue, for the time being.

The news was spreading fast enough. This friend of his really didn't need to give it another push.

Hermione checked the time and reminded them that they should go back and put away their textbooks.

"I still need to return the Remembrall to Neville."

"I'll go with you," Harry said.

He nodded to Malfoy, then turned and followed the other two.

The girl remained where she was, watching them go up the stairs.

Potter's steps were light, and Weasley was happy too. This time, however, Malfoy did not immediately feel that those two were laughing at her.

At least Potter had admitted himself that she flew better.

And he really had wanted to win; he simply hadn't beaten her.

The girl's grip on her textbooks slowly loosened a little.

"Malfoy?"

A voice suddenly came from behind her.

She turned.

A tall older student stood by the doorway, a Slytherin house badge pinned to his robes and a bag containing something in his hand.

"I'm Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team."

His gaze swept over the girl's face.

"Madam Hooch mentioned you just now."

Malfoy immediately stood a little straighter.

"Madam Hooch?"

"I went to collect some training supplies and happened to run into her." Flint shook the bag in his hand. "She said Slytherin had a new student today with good turning and speed control."

The girl's eyes brightened, and Goyle and Crabbe looked over too.

"Have you practiced before?"

"Of course." Malfoy raised her chin. "I often ride a broom at home."

Flint nodded. "If you can round a marker without wobbling, your basics are good. Interested in playing Quidditch in the future?"

Malfoy did not answer immediately.

Of course she liked flying. The lawn at home was large, she had her own broom, and her father had watched her fly.

But the Hogwarts pitch and the four house teams were another matter.

Standing on the pitch, winning a real match.

Just thinking about it made the girl's fingers tighten involuntarily.

And, more importantly...

If she really joined the Slytherin Quidditch Team, wouldn't she have another chance to pit herself against Potter?

When that happened, she would beat him fair and square again, right in front of everyone!

No! How could once be enough?

She would win twice, three times!

Ideally, she would beat that annoying fellow so thoroughly in every match from then on that he would have to concede her superiority!

Imagining Harry having to lower his head and admit she was better after losing to her, Malfoy could no longer keep the corners of her lips down.

Heh.

Just you wait, Potter! I haven't won nearly enough yet!

"Yes!"

Flint pulled a folded piece of parchment from the side of his bag.

"We have training on Saturday afternoon. You can come and watch first."

Malfoy took it.

Written on it were the time and several flying maneuvers she knew well.

"Get familiar with how the team trains first, and you'll know what to prepare for when you try out later," Flint said. "Steady turns are very useful for a Chaser."

The girl looked down at the sheet.

On Saturday afternoon, she could go to the Slytherin pitch and watch a real school team train.

And this time, the captain had invited her personally.

"I'll be there."

"All right. Don't be late." With that, Flint headed toward the stairs, carrying his bag.

Malfoy kept looking down at the parchment. Only after several seconds did she fold it again and carefully tuck it into her textbook.

She was even a little more meticulous than when she had straightened her robe sleeves earlier.

Crabbe finally couldn't resist speaking.

"Miss, are you joining the team too?"

"I'm watching training first." Malfoy answered quickly, but raised her chin a little higher. "Still, with my abilities, it's only a matter of time."

Goyle nodded.

This time, she had nothing else to say.

The young lady really did fly very well, and, most importantly...

She had finally beaten Harry Potter!

At that thought, Goyle was almost moved to tears.

Merlin above!

She finally won!

Heaven knew how she and Crabbe had made it through the past few days.

Every evening, the young lady dragged them into discussions about how to get revenge on Potter.

From the Sorting to Potions Class, the revenge plans had come one after another.

Yet every time they finished making a plan, the young lady would angrily announce the next day that they had to devise a new one.

Now things were better! The young lady had finally won once!

Did that mean they finally wouldn't have to listen to her going on about that damned Harry Potter tonight?

At that thought, Goyle couldn't help smiling with relief.

Wonderful.

At last, she could get a good night's sleep tonight!

Back in the Slytherin Common Room, Malfoy set her textbooks on the table.

The lake water reflected the light outside the windows, casting a dim green glow through the room. The fire burned steadily in the fireplace.

After sitting down, she first took out the training schedule.

Only then did she put the parchment into her schoolbag and open her textbook again.

"I've already beaten him at flying."

She turned another page of her textbook. This time, it lay open to the Charms material.

Potter in Potions Class had been far more pleased with himself than Potter in today's flying lesson.

Besides, it wasn't just his broomstick riding that had earned him the nickname "Harry Potter the genius."

The girl reached out, took out her wand, and set it beside her textbook.

She hadn't yet had a chance to actually use the few spells her family had taught her since starting school.

However good Potter was at reciting textbooks, surely he couldn't have learned those ahead of time too?

Malfoy lifted his chin, that familiar gleam returning to his gray-green eyes.

"Idiot Potter! This young lady hasn't had her fill of winning yet!"