Wood rubbed his nose awkwardly. "Oh, Harry. Percy told me this morning that there was a role in Director Lorne's event that no one but me could fill. And with so many players asking for time off, I came to take a look..."
"Besides, none of the other teams are training today either," Wood added in his own defense, gesturing for Harry to look behind him.
The Quidditch captains from the other houses were all standing right at the front.
"They're all here to scout promising players. I have to say, that Slytherin first-year just now has potential. The Beast Ball was less than an inch from his nose, and he caught it as he called for it to stop. His form was textbook."
"That's Draco, from the Malfoy family," said Marcus-the Slytherin Quidditch captain-with his arms folded. "But I don't plan to make him a Seeker. No one's stupid enough to stake a match on a first-year."
Harry was eager to try and prove himself in front of Marcus, but his older schoolmate Wood promptly threw cold water on his enthusiasm.
"Go try the other challenges first, Harry. You're in Gryffindor, so even if you win the Braveheart Challenge, you won't get any points."
In truth, Wood only wanted to keep Harry's abilities under wraps. After all, Harry was their secret ace for the next Quidditch match.
"I heard that if the scores are tied, the rankings depend on who competed first."
At that, the first-years who had still been watching all began clamoring to take the challenges. Harry squeezed out of the crowd with Ron, and they headed straight for the second gathering.
They had no idea which house's challenge this was. The place was exceptionally quiet, like the library under Madam Pince's watch.
Seamus stood right in the center.
Ron muttered, "Are they holding a memorial service for the feather Seamus blew up last week?"
He had barely opened his mouth when an older girl beside him glared at him. "Quiet."
Ron immediately hunched his shoulders and fell silent.
"Time's up." An older girl whose name they didn't know tapped the table from her seat. "Unfortunately, Seamus Finnigan, your score this time is zero."
Before Seamus could leave in dejection, the crowd around him raised their notebooks and called out, "Reveal the answer!"
The older boys standing at the front each had paper and a pen. They looked more like the challengers.
Seamus slunk out of the arena, and Harry and Ron hurried to stop him.
"Seamus, which house's challenge is this? Why wasn't anyone talking just now?"
There was terror in Seamus's eyes. "It's Ravenclaw's challenge. I was only passing by, and a bunch of older Ravenclaw boys pushed me up to take it. They said they couldn't wait to do the next question."
"God, what kind of questions are those? I'd rather have my eyebrows burned off in an explosion than stand there like an idiot for another ten minutes..."
Some of the older Ravenclaw boys looked satisfied, having clearly solved the question; others looked frustrated and full of regret, beating their chests and stamping their feet, desperate to find another first-year to start the challenge so they could tackle the next question.
Seamus felt eyes fastening on him again. With no time to explain further to Harry and Ron, he wished them luck and hurried away.
Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered look.
But when a pair of large hands landed on their shoulders, they immediately understood why Seamus had fled.
Being singled out really did not feel very pleasant.
Ron answered questions first.
"Ron Weasley, listen to your question. Suppose I have two identical Galleons in my hand. One is heads. What is the probability that the other is also heads?"
Ron stood in the center of the arena, still holding his wand out of habit. He looked around at the older students frowning and scribbling away on their parchment, then scratched his head in puzzlement.
"Does that need calculating?" Ron's gray eyes widened in disbelief, and he blurted out, "It's either heads or tails. Isn't the answer one-half?"
His words were met with deathly silence. The older girl seated on the tall chair announced mercilessly, "Unfortunately, Ron Weasley, zero points. Also, yours is the fastest zero of this competition."
Under the competition rules, the logic quiz measured how many questions a contestant could answer correctly in ten minutes, with a single wrong answer resulting in immediate elimination. Ron had barely stepped up before setting the record for the fastest elimination in this competition.
"Wait! That's not fair!" Ron jumped up in agitation, his face flushing bright red. "Who cares whether a Galleon is heads or tails? Besides, nobody could answer a question like that!"
"It's not that nobody can answer them." The older girl glanced coldly at the score sheet in her hand. "The current leader has answered six questions correctly. She's even in your house. I think you should know her-Hermione Granger."
"It's Hermione!" Harry exclaimed quietly in delight from the sidelines.
Ron looked as uncomfortable as if he had swallowed a fly. He pursed his lips, muttered, "All right," then silently left the arena with his head hanging, swapping places with Harry.
Harry took a deep breath and walked into the center of the arena. He was not confident either. His first instinct for Ron's question had also been one-half. But since he was already here, he had to give it a try.
"Harry Potter, listen to your question." The older girl turned her gaze to him, her tone growing more serious. "Suppose a potion backlash has left you temporarily blind, and there are a hundred Galleons in front of you, ten of which are heads up. You now need to divide these Galleons into two groups. How can you divide them to guarantee that both groups have exactly the same number of heads-up Galleons?"
"Galleons again. I'm starting to hate Galleons," Ron grumbled from the sidelines, irritably raking a hand through his red hair. "Just for today."
Harry stood rooted to the spot, utterly baffled.
He wanted to protest loudly that this was unfair. After all, Ron had only needed to give a number, so even a blind guess had a chance of being right. His own question, however, was an open-ended one that gave him no clues at all, leaving him unable to find even a starting point for an answer.
Watching the older boys around him rapidly flipping through books, he finally understood exactly why Seamus had managed to stand there for a full ten minutes-this question was even more despair-inducing than the Draught of Living Death in Potions class.
Harry decided to give up struggling, but he had a little trick of his own. Instead of speaking immediately, he stood quietly in place and swept a profound gaze around him, as though engaged in an extremely complex battle of wits. Only when he felt several minutes had passed did he slowly utter three words: "I don't know."
Although he was still doomed to elimination, he had successfully stalled long enough to avoid breaking Ron's record, salvaging a tiny, insignificant scrap of dignity for himself.