Miss Malfoy, You Wouldn't Secretly Cheer for Me, Would You?

Early the next morning, Harry arrived at the Quidditch Pitch.

The droplets on the grass had yet to dry, and the distant goal hoops lay hidden in a thin mist.

Wood was already standing in the middle of the pitch, a training schedule in hand, looking even more serious than Hermione about to take an exam.

"Good morning, Harry!" The captain's eyes immediately lit up at the sight of him. "Today, we're practicing dives and pull-ups!"

Harry lowered his head and glanced at his Status Panel.

[Flying: Proficient (788/1000)]

All that training had finally paid off.

By now, he could perform most standard maneuvers proficiently, but when it came to changing direction at high speed, there were still places where things did not flow smoothly enough.

For instance, his body would already be leaning into the turn, but the broom would always take a little longer to complete it.

"Harry." Wood placed a small wooden practice ball in his palm. "Sometimes, a Seeker only has an instant to reach out."

"You have to get your own broom under control before you can seize that instant."

With that, he raised his wand.

The wooden ball rose into the sky, circled halfway around the edge of the stands, then suddenly reversed direction and plunged toward the grass.

Harry kicked off and quickly chased after it.

Wind swept past his ears, and the seats in the stands sank lower and lower.

When the wooden ball began to fall, he lowered his body along with it. The front of his broom dipped, his speed climbed rapidly, and the grass grew steadily larger in his vision.

Trying this route for the first time, Harry chose to slow down early.

By the time his broom pulled up, the wooden ball had already skimmed past his fingertips and flown off the other way.

"You pulled up too early!" Wood called from below. "Still, that's very good for a first attempt!"

Harry circled through the air and returned to the captain's side.

"At the very end, the broom took a little longer to catch up than I expected."

"That's why we practice." Wood patted his shoulder. "Your reactions are already very good."

"But a truly excellent Seeker has to make decisions in an extremely short time."

"When to keep chasing, when to pull up-you need to know exactly how far you can go."

He tossed the wooden ball up again and slowed its route a little more. "Get the movement right first, then add speed."

Harry nodded and gripped the broom handle again.

On his second attempt, he did not rush to reach for the ball, first committing his body's position during the pull-up to memory.

On his third, he reached out a little earlier.

By the fifth attempt, his fingertips finally touched the wooden ball. He closed his hand around it in one smooth motion, and his broom swept steadily over the grass.

"Beautiful!" Wood immediately pumped his fist, then pointed quite naturally toward the other side. "Now, from another direction!"

Harry: "..."

Wonderful.

Sure enough, this captain's praise only bought him one sentence's worth of rest.

Over the next few days, Harry's life was packed full of classes, spell practice, and Quidditch training.

Whenever he felt he had "pretty much got it," Wood could always find another little problem.

When he reached for the ball, his body would unconsciously lean outward.

After a high-speed turn, his gaze sometimes lingered on his original position.

When stopping abruptly and accelerating again, he would make an extra, unnecessary adjustment.

These flaws were pointed out again and again, then corrected again and again.

Harry gradually began to get a feel for it, too.

On the same turn, shifting his center of gravity a little earlier and changing his grip angle a little sooner would alter the path his broom traced.

Once, to reach a more distant wooden ball, he stretched almost his entire body out, holding on to the broom handle with only his left hand.

The broom continued sweeping a short distance along its previous downward course before pulling up again as he drew his body back.

Harry glanced behind him, suddenly feeling a little more interested.

So the two could work together even more closely.

He began paying attention to his position relative to the broom whenever he reached out, leaned sideways, or pulled up.

Sometimes the difference was only tiny, yet after trying again, the movement would become much smoother.

Before the match, Harry also specifically asked Wood to help him check his broom.

Only after confirming that both the handle and tail twigs were sound did he continue training with peace of mind.

Slytherin had not been idle with its training either.

Malfoy swept around the side of a goal and passed the practice ball in her arms to another player.

The other player caught it, and Flint nodded from nearby.

"Good route this time. You could aim a little farther ahead."

The girl landed back on the grass, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.

Although she was currently only joining them as a trainee, she was growing increasingly familiar with the team's training.

When I get to play officially, I won't just be listening to everyone else shout Potter's name from the stands.

"Malfoy." Flint suddenly stopped her. "I heard you beat Potter in Flying Class?"

"Of course." The girl immediately raised her chin. "His turns back then were much worse than they are now."

"Now?" Flint looked at her. "Have you watched him fly recently?"

Malfoy paused slightly.

"He's trained so many times. He can't possibly have made no progress."

She shifted her broom a little closer to her side. "This is Potter's first official match. Of course he doesn't have enough experience."

"Perfect." Flint folded his arms. "Higgs knows how to fight a beginner for position."

"If we can also figure out Potter's habits when turning and pulling up, we can plan our routes in advance."

The girl did not immediately reply.

"Malfoy?"

"Potter does lack experience, but you'd better not underestimate him." The girl lifted her head. "That idiot improves extremely quickly."

Flint watched her for two seconds. "What else?"

"You'll see during the match."

The girl's tone remained haughty, but her hand did not loosen around the broom handle.

Of course she wanted Slytherin to win.

But taking the questions Potter had asked her in private and using them specifically to help someone else devise ways to block him...

How would the two of them practice together after that?

If I'm going to win, I'll win myself!

Hearing that she did not intend to say any more, Flint turned his gaze back to the pitch.

"All right. Higgs will judge for himself. Fly that route again, and pay attention to your position after catching the ball."

Malfoy nodded and mounted her broom again.

The evening before the match.

After finishing training, Harry stayed beside the pitch and repeated a sharp turn he had just practiced.

When he landed, a familiar voice suddenly came from beside him.

"Potter, why do you still wobble outward before turning?"

Harry turned and saw Malfoy standing on the other side of the grass, carrying her broom.

Her two followers waited far away beside the path to the castle, without following her over.

"Miss Malfoy, here to watch me train again?"

"I just happened to be passing." The girl immediately answered, then returned her gaze to his hands. "Don't change the subject. Your center of gravity lagged again just now."

Rather than immediately arguing, Harry gently pressed down on the broom handle, reproducing his previous movement.

"Here?"

"A little farther forward. You only remember to adjust after the broom has already started turning. Of course you'll wobble an extra time."

The girl mounted her broom and pushed off lightly with her toes, rising just above the grass.

The hem of her robes brushed through the evening breeze as she traced an arc around a wooden post beside the pitch.

There was almost no unnecessary swaying as she turned, and she returned steadily to Harry.

"Get ready first, then let the broom follow." She raised her chin. "Did you see that clearly?"

"I did." Harry smiled and nodded.

She seemed to have heard him say those words before.

The girl had been about to keep picking out faults, but hearing those final words, she could not quite stop the corner of her mouth from twitching.

"Good, then. Fly it again."

Harry took off again.

This time, following her movements, he steadied his body before entering the turn, and the broom veered to the other side along with him.

By the time he landed, even that tiny wobble had diminished considerably.

Watching him, Malfoy first felt a wave of satisfaction, then suddenly felt that something was not quite right.

Doesn't this mean it'll be even harder for Higgs to shake him off tomorrow?

"Draco." Harry landed beside her. "Is it really all right for you to help me like this?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"After all, I'm Gryffindor's Seeker."

"So what?"

Harry glanced at the green on her robe collar, his smile growing more pronounced.

"Does this count as aiding the enemy?"

The girl immediately shot him a glare.

"I'm correcting the flaws in your flying! If you think this is enough to beat Higgs, dream on!"

"I never said that."

The girl gave a soft huff and raised a hand to point at the wooden post.

"Again. You could have made that last turn a little cleaner."

The two practiced several more rounds.

Malfoy sometimes demonstrated and sometimes watched from below, while Harry adjusted the things he had not done well, little by little.

By the end, even the girl had to admit that Potter's flying really was different from how it had been at the start.

When Harry landed back on the ground, the number on his Status Panel ticked upward again.

[Flying: Proficient (936/1000)]

Only the final stretch remained before his next breakthrough.

Holding the broom handle, he recalled the movements he had practiced over the past few days.

The sound of the wind during each dive, the force in his hands during each pull-up-everything seemed a little clearer than before.

"Potter."

Harry looked up to see that the girl had already picked up her broom and was preparing to return to the castle with her two followers.

"Tomorrow, I'll be sitting on the Slytherin side," she deliberately emphasized. "If you lose, don't expect me to comfort you."

The corners of Harry's mouth slowly lifted. "Miss Malfoy, you wouldn't secretly cheer for me, would you?"

"In your dreams!"

"Then I'd better listen carefully tomorrow."

The girl glared at him. "You'll take it as cheering even if I'm insulting you?!"

Harry could not help laughing. "I'll do my best to tell the difference, so I don't misunderstand Miss Malfoy again."

"You'd better!"

The girl turned and left.

Yet after a few steps, she looked back at the pitch.

Harry was still standing where he had been. Seeing her look back, he even waved the broom in his hand at her.

Malfoy immediately turned away again, quickening her steps a little.

That infuriating Potter!

Tomorrow... of course I want Slytherin to win.

Of course.

Harry watched her walk away, then lowered his head and steadied his grip on the broom again.

The practice balls had already been put away. On the empty pitch, only the wind remained, passing through the high goal hoops.

Tomorrow, what he would be chasing was the real Golden Snitch.

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There's more today~