Harry felt somewhat embarrassed. If there were attribute points involved, they should have mentioned that earlier.
Professor McGonagall wanted to joke, "Why don't you leave again—I prefer your rebellious attitude from just now," but having secured what could be a Quidditch Cup victory, she naturally wasn't joking around.
On the spot, she gave Harry the green light. Having already made exceptions, making a few more didn't matter. Harry didn't need extensive training—just confirm the position first.
Wood had no objections either. Please, that was Harry Potter!
What Harry did were important matters: studying advanced magic. How could his time be entirely consumed on the pitch?
At dinner, Harry told Ron about joining the team, casually asking about the general rules—what did Seekers do? Keeper? Beater?
Ron was about to put a piece of steak and kidney pie in his mouth when he froze halfway.
"Seeker?" he said. "But first years never—you must be the youngest House team player in about a century!"
"A century, actually. Wood told me. The rule not allowing first years is relatively new," Harry said, using his hands to stuff pie into his mouth, one bite gone. Before fully recovering his strength, his appetite would remain at ridiculously high levels.
"Now we're guaranteed to win the Quidditch Cup! With you on the pitch, just imagine—Slytherin students facing you, the one who defeated You-Know-Who!"
After spending time with Harry, Ron wasn't very afraid of Voldemort anymore—after all, Voldemort was just Harry's defeated opponent.
The fear curse surrounding Voldemort's name was dispelled by Harry's overwhelming presence. Friends and comrades who stayed close to Harry received powerful protection.
Ron's and Hermione's names were already recorded. They were just one oath ceremony away from officially becoming Night's Watch apprentice mages, which would grant them certain advantages.
Enhanced training efficiency, faster mastery of basic spells, advanced magic that wouldn't fade with disuse...
"I start training next week," Harry said. "Don't tell anyone else. Wood wants to keep it secret... Actually unnecessary. Like you said, we're guaranteed to win. He probably just wants to see the Slytherins' shocked expressions."
"You still need training?" Though Ron loved Quidditch and respected the sport—if given the opportunity to join the team, he could practice until exhausted—he respected Harry's power more.
With omnipotent Harry on the team, why waste precious time? Harry was very busy!
"I don't understand the rules, Ron. Plus I have to go a few times—it won't be too long. I don't want to waste too much time either."
Just then, Fred and George Weasley entered the hall.
Spotting Harry, they quickly walked over.
"Well done," George said quietly. "Wood told us."
They were the House team's Beaters. Wood naturally wouldn't hide the news from them.
"We're definitely winning the Quidditch Cup this year," Fred said. "Since Charlie left, we haven't won, but this year our team will shine brilliantly. You must be amazing, Harry. When Wood told us, we were all so excited we were practically incoherent. We have Harry—can't even imagine how we could lose!"
"Don't say that. Everyone needs to work together to win. Playing isn't a one-person sport." Harry's mouth spoke the words, but the reality was—
Indeed, here I don't need to pretend to be average like when playing football in the [Asian Parents] world. Even if you're all just supporting players, I alone can beat two teams and win.
"But we have to go. Lee Jordan thinks he's found a new secret passage leading outside the school."
"I bet that's the passage behind the Gregory the Smarmy statue. We discovered it our first week here. Goodbye."
"So there's originally a secret passage leading outside the school there... Thank you, Fred."
Harry nodded at them.
"I'm George."
"Ha, you two can't fool me. I can tell you apart."
"Can never fool you, great Lion King!"
Initially the twins were curious why Harry understood them so well. Later, discovering all House members could be read by Harry, they realized Harry's wisdom wasn't comparable to normal people and found it natural.
Just as Fred and George left, a very unwelcome person appeared—Malfoy, with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. The two bodyguards seemed to want to dissuade him from approaching but were failing.
"Mr. Potter, you're eating. Sorry to disturb you. I need Ron for something."
Recently Malfoy's conflicts with Gryffindor mainly involved Neville and Ron. He seemed resentful that these ordinary students were so close to Harry.
Though Neville had true courage deep down, at this age he mostly appeared somewhat timid. Ron didn't indulge Malfoy—today erupted their nth dispute.
"Ron is my friend. Don't you know that, Mr. Malfoy?"
Crabbe and Goyle instantly prepared to flee.
Malfoy sat in place, superficially still very composed, but actually thinking, You two pull me along, and let's leave!
"Wait Harry, I don't want Malfoy thinking I can only rely on you. I'm not afraid of him."
Discovering Harry wasn't displeased, Ron then said to Malfoy, "So, what do you want from me?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, retracting the presence he hadn't really deployed anyway. He stood, patting Ron's shoulder, then moved to a slightly distant position to continue eating voraciously, giving space to the two boys.
Damn this overwhelming Charisma—just now Malfoy only showed respect throughout. Unknowingly, I've already influenced him almost completely.
Already very restrained on my part.
"I want to compete with you alone, Ron Weasley," Malfoy glanced at Harry eating quickly but elegantly, feeling he probably couldn't hear voices here, so he lowered his voice. "If you don't mind, tonight—a wizard's duel, wands only—no physical contact... Also, this is between us two. You can't let Mr. Potter be your second!"
"Fine, I agree," Ron said. "But you also can't have seconds."
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, weighing their usefulness individually... Indeed, worthless.
"Fine, like that."
He said, "At midnight, how about it? We'll meet you in the trophy room. It's never locked."
"If you win, all your things—textbooks, wand, everything—I'll replace them with new ones. Your wand is already very old, right? You don't want to stay beside Mr. Potter with poor equipment, causing Mr. Potter embarrassment because of you."
"I don't want your charity, Malfoy."
"This isn't charity. If you win, these are your spoils of war. Think about it—what you rightfully deserve."
Ron was persuaded.
Harry had also repeatedly suggested that at least the wand should be replaced—it was too dangerous—but Ron didn't want Harry buying things for him. He had his own pride.
Harry thought he could find Ron some work and pay him wages. But at Hogwarts, there were no opportunities—he'd have to wait until Christmas break.
Christmas would allow direct gift-giving. Even if not self-selected and less convenient, some relatively stable wand combinations were definitely stronger than Ron's current one.
"But what's your real purpose, Malfoy?" Ron didn't think Malfoy would be so generous.
"If I win... you must introduce me to Mr. Potter as his friend!"
"I won't make Harry a wager."
Ron flatly refused.
"I agree." Harry's voice wasn't loud but floated lightly into both their ears.
"You heard?" Ron and Malfoy said in unison.
"Yes, I'm just curious to see how wizards duel. If you don't mind, I'd like to observe."