As the flying instructor and Quidditch referee, Madam Hooch's interest in a world-class broomstick like the Firebolt was naturally immense.
Like everyone else at the school, she loved the Firebolt—or more precisely, her enthusiasm exceeded everyone else's.
"Couldn't put it down" was the perfect description.
Before training began, she held the Firebolt in her hands and shared her professional opinion with the team members.
"Look at its balance—absolutely flawless!
I must admit, after decades of continuous improvement, the Nimbus series of flying broomsticks can be considered quite perfect.
If I had to point out any flaw in the Nimbus series, it would be that the tail is slightly tilted.
After a few years of use, you'll find they become a bit sluggish.
But the Firebolt is different!"
She pointed excitedly at the broomstick's tail. "This time, they've also improved the handle.
Look at this—more stable than the Nimbus series, yet more streamlined than the Cleansweep series.
This reminds me of the Silver Arrow from years past—such a pity they're no longer in production.
I learned to fly on a Silver Arrow; it was an exquisite old broomstick.
I've always believed that if they had persevered back then, it would have become a brand no less prestigious than the Nimbus series—"
She went on about this topic for quite a while until Wood finally couldn't take it anymore and had to interrupt.
"Er—Madam Hooch, should we let Harry take the Firebolt back?
Not that I mean anything by it, just that we need to train—"
Seeing Wood's slightly flushed face, Madam Hooch realized she'd been talking a bit too long. She nodded and handed the Firebolt to Harry.
"Oh, right, here you go, Potter. I'll sit over there with Mr. Holmes."
For this final training session, Sherlock had volunteered to come watch Harry's practice.
It would also help him clear his mind and organize the evidence he'd been collecting recently.
Given his special status, Wood naturally had no objections.
Now he and Madam Hooch left the pitch and sat in the stands.
"Holmes, why don't you join the Quidditch team?"
Madam Hooch asked curiously. "I heard from Oliver that your flying talent is no less than Potter's."
Sherlock smiled and shook his head. "My time is precious, Madam Hooch. I can't dedicate five days a week to training."
Since the start of this term, Sherlock had resumed his exploration of the Forbidden Forest.
It was no exaggeration to say that now, apart from Hagrid—the gamekeeper, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, and Care of Magical Creatures professor, no one knew the Forbidden Forest better than Sherlock.
Not even the Weasley twins.
The next step was to search this treasure trove for raw materials.
"Well—all right, to each their own. We can't force it. Let's watch them train together."
The Gryffindor team members all gathered around Wood, listening to his final instructions before tomorrow's match.
"Harry, I think you know very well who your opponent is—Ravenclaw's Seeker, Cho Chang."
All the team members except Wood turned to look at Harry.
The Weasley twins even started making a ruckus. All the Quidditch players knew that Harry and Cho Chang had a good relationship.
Everyone had even reached a consensus—if Harry started dating Cho Chang one day, they wouldn't be surprised at all.
Harry's face reddened slightly at this, and he said in a low voice, "Yes, I know, Oliver."
"She plays very well, extremely well. Much better than that little git Malfoy who only got on the Quidditch team because of his rich father.
Better than Hufflepuff's Diggory too—though she rides a Comet 260, which compared to the Firebolt is practically a joke."
He looked at Harry's broomstick with keen admiration, then continued, "Now the problem is, Harry, you can't go soft in the match because of your relationship with her."
The Weasley twins whistled again.
Harry quickly shook his head. "I won't, Oliver. I told Cho Chang long ago that we'd both give our all in this match."
"Don't do that, Harry. I think you could make an appropriate 'sacrifice' and have Chang go easy on us in the match," said Fred.
"Exactly, and she's so pretty, you wouldn't be losing out anyway," said George.
"Give her a kiss and make her head spin!"
"Let her eyes see only you, drive her crazy for you!"
"What are you even saying!"
Angelina Johnson was very displeased with the twins' suggestions and glared at them fiercely.
"How can you encourage Harry to do such a thing!"
"It's just a joke, why so worked up?"
"Didn't you hear Harry just say he already agreed with Chang?"
"You two just love stirring up trouble!"
"All right, all right, enough talking. Let's start training!"
Wood interrupted the three of them.
Harry rode the Firebolt and pushed off hard from the ground with both feet.
This wasn't his first time training with the Firebolt. But every time he trained, the feeling was still just as wonderful.
The Nimbus 2000 was already an excellent flying broomstick. Back then, the Nimbus 2000 would respond immediately to the slightest touch.
But the Firebolt was even better.
It seemed to obey his thoughts rather than his control.
It shot across the pitch like lightning, so fast that the stands became a blur of greenish and grayish colors.
Flying beautifully, Harry felt inspired and suddenly turned sharply.
This startled the three female Chasers—Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell into screaming. But that wasn't all. Harry then executed a perfectly controlled dive.
He plunged headfirst toward the ground, then jerked the broomstick up just as his feet brushed the grass-covered pitch and shot swiftly back into the air.
Unable to contain his excitement, Harry let out a clear whistle as he climbed higher—thirty feet, forty feet, fifty feet. Watching from the stands, Sherlock saw Harry flying freely on the Firebolt for the first time and nodded approvingly.
It was certainly worth the price.
One could imagine that when it truly appeared on the pitch, it would definitely cause a sensation.
Given commentator Lee Jordan's personality, there was a good chance he'd forget about the match totally and just advertise the Firebolt instead.
"Harry, I'm releasing the Snitch!"
Just then, Wood shouted loudly.
Harry had just descended from high altitude. Hearing this, he turned and chased after a Bludger toward the goal posts.
He easily overtook the Bludger and saw the Golden Snitch emerge from behind Wood.
In less than ten seconds, he had the Golden Snitch firmly in his grasp.
The team members cheered wildly.
Harry himself felt unsatisfied and simply released the Snitch again.
This time, he decided to give it a one-minute head start.
After a minute, Harry finally took off and accelerated in pursuit.
He dodged left and right, weaving back and forth between his teammates.
When he saw the Golden Snitch hiding near Katie Bell's knee, he dipped his head, easily bent down and scooped it up, catching the Snitch in his hand once more.
This made Katie cry out, "Harry, you almost knocked me off!"
"Don't worry, Katie, I wouldn't," Harry said confidently, holding the Golden Snitch in his hand. "I left plenty of safe distance."
"You call that a safe distance!" Katie gestured at the space between herself and Harry. "A few more inches and you'd have been kissing me!"
Harry's face reddened at this.
"Harry, this won't do," Katie couldn't help but laugh. "Blushing at a joke—when you actually kiss Cho Chang, you'll be gasping for air!"
"All right, Katie, stop teasing Harry. Let's get back to training!" Angelina also flew over, calling for them both to return to the ground.
This was the best training session Harry had had since joining the Quidditch team.
The legendary Firebolt was about to officially debut, greatly boosting all the team members' morale.
Everyone performed at their best, near perfection.
When they all landed back on the ground, Wood didn't have a single word of criticism.
In George's words, this was unprecedented.
"I don't think anything can stop us tomorrow!" Wood said. "Unless—Harry, you've resolved the Cho Chang issue, haven't you?"
"Yes," Harry said, remembering his promise to Cho Chang and nodding firmly.
"Trust Harry, Oliver. He knows what's important," Fred said confidently.
"All right, I hope so," Wood said. "Anyway—everyone practiced well. Actually, Fred and George's suggestion isn't completely out of the question—"
Harry looked at Wood in shock.
"Oliver!"
Angelina Johnson cried out in dissatisfaction.
Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell couldn't help but giggle.
"All right, all right, just saying. Let's head back to the tower—get to bed early—"
The other team members all headed to the changing room, while Harry strode toward the stands.
Sherlock glanced at Madam Hooch beside him. She had fallen asleep in her seat.
"Sherlock, do you want to try the Firebolt?"
As his best friend, Harry naturally wanted to share his joy with Sherlock.
Sherlock smiled and shook his head. "No need. Watching you soar through the sky on it is already a pleasure."
"Sherlock!"
Hearing Sherlock's words, Harry felt inexplicably moved.
"By the way, about the Slug Professor—sorry, Sherlock—"
"It's Professor Horace Slughorn."
When it came to names related to cases, Sherlock never got them wrong.
"Oh, right, Professor Slughorn. How's that going?"
"Fairly well. These past few days I've visited Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape—"
"What, you even approached Professor Snape?"
Hearing Sherlock's words, Harry couldn't help but cry out.
His voice woke Madam Hooch.
She scolded Sherlock and Harry for not waking her and insisted they return to the castle immediately.
Harry shrugged, shouldered the Firebolt, and walked out of the pitch with Sherlock. As darkness fell and the pitch gradually dimmed, they continued discussing Professor Slughorn's matter.
"Was Professor Snape willing to tell you about him?"
"Why wouldn't he be?" Sherlock asked in return.
"Oh... you know... well, I mean, doesn't Professor Snape always dislike Gryffindor students?"
"He only dislikes you and your father. Gryffindor is implicated because of you father and son."
Harry: (¬_¬)
"He was very willing to cooperate. I obtained enough information from him and gained further understanding of Professor Slughorn. Unfortunately..."
"Unfortunately, what?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Didn't you just say he was very willing to cooperate?"
"He was only willing to cooperate regarding Professor Slughorn. He didn't say a word about himself and ended up kicking me out."
Harry: "..."
Harry suddenly felt that Sherlock's definition of "willing to cooperate" was debatable.
Most likely, Sherlock had said a few words to Professor Snape, then used his unique analytical and deductive abilities to obtain the information he wanted.
Before Professor Snape kicked Sherlock out, it all counted as "willing cooperation" in Sherlock's view.
"When are you planning to see Professor Slughorn?"
"Before the end of this term," Sherlock smiled slightly. "I'll need your help then, my dear Harry."
"Me?"
Harry pointed at himself in surprise. How had this matter become connected to him again?
Sherlock looked at Harry with a smile, growing increasingly satisfied.
The Wizarding World's Savior was really quite useful!
The next morning, after Sherlock returned to the dormitory with Neville, everyone got up early.
All the boys in the dormitory crowded around Harry as they went downstairs for breakfast.
They unanimously agreed that the Firebolt needed an honor guard.
When Harry walked into the Great Hall carrying the Firebolt, it was the Firebolt's first public appearance in such a setting.
All the students turned their heads toward the Firebolt, and the Hall filled with excited chatter.
Though the Slytherin team members had known about this for a while, they were still stunned at this moment.
"Did you see his face?" Ron said irritably, pointing at Malfoy. "How can he be so calm?"
Harry felt a bit awkward. "Ahem, because he already saw the Firebolt on the train."
Sherlock chuckled softly. "Ron, it seems you're planning to teach your nephew a lesson?"
"I don't have a nephew like that!" Ron said sourly.
Wood was equally proud of the Firebolt's glory.
"Put it here, Harry."
He placed the broomstick in the center of the table, carefully rotating it so the brand name faced up.
Hermione wasn't in a particularly good mood to begin with, and now she rolled her eyes irritably.
She leaned close to Sherlock and said quietly.
"I haven't found a single piece of information about Horcrux usage! Not one!"
Clearly, Hermione was quite shocked that the Hogwarts library had let her down for the first time.
"I went through the Restricted Section with Professor Flitwick's signature you gave me, even looked at the most terrible books—the ones that teach you how to brew the most horrific potions—nothing!
I only found this in the introduction to Magick Moste Evile. Listen.
'Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction.'
Then why mention it at all?"
Hermione angrily closed the old book, which let out a ghostly wail.
"Shut up!"
She said irritably, stuffing it into her bag.
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