As soon as Wood finished speaking, the entire Gryffindor table erupted in chaos.
The surrounding chatter rose and fell, growing louder and louder.
Even the students from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff neighborhood turned to look, while the Slytherin immediately perked up their ears, their eyes filled with a complex and wary expression.
"Oh my god! Is it really possible for a first-year student to make the Quidditch team?"
"It was already outrageous enough that Malfoy joined Gryffindor Quidditch Team in his first year, but now Gryffindor has three at once?!"
" Harry, Hermione, Malfoy... are they going to completely break the centuries-old rules of Hogwarts?"
"Are Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch serious? They're even giving first-year students a trial?"
"Before, let alone joining the team, first-year students weren't even allowed near the tryouts! Now they're directly forming a second team for selection, isn't that too much of an exception!"
"But their performance in the Flying Class just now has already proven... they are indeed much stronger than freshmen."
Some were surprised, some were dissatisfied, some were envious, and some complained quietly about the unfairness, but most were completely stunned by this unprecedented arrangement.
Several senior students looked at each other, their voices filled with disbelief:
" Hogwarts has never had a first-year student play Quidditch before, except for the Malfoy exception. Now three of them are coming... Is this going to rewrite history?"
"If they actually manage to squeeze out the older students and get to play, wouldn't the rules be completely messed up from now on?"
The noise grew louder and louder, almost drowning out the clattering of cutlery in the Great Hall.
Wood, fueled by the commotion, slammed his fist on the table and shouted:
"Rules are rules, but people are flexible! If you can win, if you can fly, if you have the ability, then you should step up!"
Ron, listening from the side, was dumbfounded, muttering under his breath, "Are we first-years... going to turn Quidditch upside down...?"
Amid the noise, a few older students crossed their arms and calmly began to analyze the situation.
"Calm down, getting agitated won't help."
Even the most gifted first-graders can't match our older students in terms of physical fitness, strength, and endurance.
"In a real competition, with collisions, prolonged high-altitude flight, and emergency changes of direction... they can't handle it."
The sound wasn't loud, but it gradually quieted the surroundings down a bit.
Soon someone responded.
"That's right, Quidditch isn't just about how stable the takeoff is; it's about physical strength, stamina, and tactics."
If we actually let them play, they might be easier to target, and the opponent could win the game faster.
"Extraordinary treatment is one thing, but the difference in strength is undeniable; it won't be so easy to turn things around."
These words immediately sparked a more rational discussion in the previously boisterous Great Hall, with many nodding in agreement and agreeing that the statement made sense.
Hermione bit her lip slightly without refuting, but a hint of stubbornness appeared in her eyes; she didn't like being looked down upon.
Draco noticed the subtle change in her expression, turned slightly to the side, and lowered his voice, making sure only she and a few others around him could hear:
"It's okay, we need these kinds of comments. If everyone agrees to break the rules, some people will jump out to oppose and make things difficult, and we won't even have a chance to participate."
Hermione paused slightly, looked up at him, and the unease in her eyes was gradually replaced by determination. She nodded gently.
Harry, who was standing nearby, nodded in agreement. "That's right, we'll prove it with our abilities."
Ron clenched his fist, his face full of enthusiasm. "Yeah! We'll blow them to smithereens!"
The surrounding chatter continued, but the group had already reached a consensus.
No explanations, no arguments, let the competition reveal the true test.
At this point, the surrounding discussions began to split into two camps: one camp believed that age was a decisive factor and that the other was bound to lose.
One group believes these three are true geniuses and might be able to create miracles.
The entire Great Hall went from boiling over to calm, and then to an undercurrent of tension; everyone was waiting to see what would happen.
Will the unprecedented Quidditch saga at Hogwarts become Legend or a joke?
As dusk settled gently over Hogwarts on Friday evening, a light breeze drifted over the Quidditch Pitch, and golden rays of light shone on the neatly arranged brooms.
Harry and Hermione's roommates accompanied them to the pitch, where they could see Wood and a team of veteran players already waiting in the center of the field.
All eyes turned to him, some with anticipation, others with scrutiny.
"You've come!" Wood strode forward, clutching the Quidditch ball in his hand, his tone still burning with excitement.
"Perfect, everyone's here. Today we'll test flight, physical contact, and ball control to determine your positions."
" Potter, Granger, which area do you two excel at first?"
The veteran team members also gathered around curiously, their eyes filled with wonder.
Harry gripped the broom handle and shook his head uncertainly.
Hermione, too, was clearly still adjusting to this sudden attention and didn't know how to respond for a moment.
Just then, Draco directly spoke up and set the direction for Hermione:
"Captain, since there's already a precedent, why don't we just have Hermione try Chaser position?"
Wood's eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands sharply:
"That's right! Granger, let's start by testing Chaser ball control, slalom, and shooting. After one round, I can immediately tell if you're a good fit!"
Hermione gripped the broom tighter, her stubbornness resurfacing in her eyes. "Fine, I'll try."
Lavender, clenching her fists, whispered encouragement, " Hermione, you can do it! You can do it!"
Olivia smiled and encouraged her, "Don't be nervous, you're flying very well."
Wood tossed the Quaffle and pointed to a row of obstacle circles on the sidelines:
" Granger, first dribble around the cones to control the ball, then shoot. Just make sure your movements are steady, accurate, and quick. No need to rush."
Hearing this, Hermione nodded, mounted the broom, and with a light tap of her toes, rose into the air.
She nimbly navigated around the obstacle courses, following the rhythm she had practiced with Draco.
Without a single near miss or a moment of panicked slowing down, she completed the slalom practice flawlessly.
The veteran team members, who had initially been taking it easy, gradually straightened up.
No one considered Hermione a freshman who had been promoted simply because she was lucky.
The previously nonchalant senior students quietly gripped their brooms tighter, the same thought simultaneously popping into their minds:
If we don't train hard, we might really be overtaken by this newly formed second team.
Being pushed out of your place by a first-grader is truly shameful!
A tense sense of competition unconsciously filled the air, and even the gaze directed at Hermione shifted from scrutiny to genuine attention.
"His ball control is more stable than many older students..." someone exclaimed in a low voice.
Upon reaching the shooting zone, Hermione's eyes narrowed, and with a deft flick of her wrist, the Quaffle grazed the edge of the circle and went in precisely.
Goal!
The second and third shots were both on target, with tricky angles and just the right amount of power.
Wood's eyes widened, and he even forgot to move the ball in his hand.
After the last set of cones, Hermione hovered steadily, landed gently, her breathing slightly rapid but not erratic, and her face flushed.
The entire arena fell silent. Then someone couldn't help but whisper, "That's too steady! This is the level for the first tryout?"
The others nodded silently, their faces no longer showing disdain, but only approval of Hermione.
Wood rushed forward, excitedly exclaiming, "Perfect! Granger, absolutely perfect!"
"Balance, ball control, accuracy—all top-notch—you're a natural Chaser! You're the one!"