Walking to the first floor, Howl happened to meet Harry and his group. They were holding brooms, wearing Slytherin Quidditch uniforms, and one person was carrying a heavy box.
But… there were only six people?
"Professor Jones."
"Good afternoon, Professor."
Harry was no exception; while greeting him, he also lifted his Comet broom, which bowed slightly as if nodding.
Howl responded to each of them.
It was only after Howl left that they continued their discussion.
"I just realized Marcus hasn't even organized a training session," someone said.
"It doesn't matter, Harry can take his place. The flying skills required for a Chaser and a Seeker are similar, and as a free player, a Seeker doesn't have any unique training content."
"That scoundrel, I really don't know why Professor Snape would let him be the team captain."
Someone chuckled in response, "Because he can win."
"Does that even count as winning?"
Garrd, seeing the discussion becoming more heated, quickly interjected to mediate, "Alright, maybe Marcus is just feeling unwell. We'll just do targeted training first."
"Nonsense, he just doesn't like Potter," the person who had just spoken grumbled unhappily upon hearing Garrd's words.
Harry shrugged, "I don't understand, maybe… that's how it is."
He didn't dare to make such a definitive judgment. What if Marcus was really just feeling unwell? Wouldn't that be baseless speculation and looking down on others?!
Thinking this, the group walked into the stadium. Garrd seemed to have a lot of insight into Quidditch and began to organize the training.
They even mentioned the Slytherin team's great rival, the Gryffindor team. Their captain this year was a sixth-year, a top Goalkeeper, and their two Beaters were the Weasley Brothers, who coordinated flawlessly.
To deal with this situation, the Slytherin Goalkeeper had to train with faster, smaller, and heavier Bludgers.
And the other players also had to practice dodging and coordinating with each other.
The training of the few continued until sunset. Everyone saw the performance of the Comet and became full of confidence. No other reason, the Seeker's position, which determines one hundred and fifty points, is simply too crucial.
After training, Harry bid farewell to the Slytherin group and then hurried to the library. The library would close at nine o'clock, so time was tight.
On the way, there was a click, and a flash of white light.
Harry sighed helplessly, looked up, and saw a very small, gray-haired boy on the other side of the corridor, staring at him as if under a spell.
The boy clutched a camera in his hand, and as Harry's gaze fell upon him, the boy's face immediately turned crimson.
"Creevey, please give me some personal space. I remember saying this a long time ago, but you keep forcing me to say it again every week with your actions."
"S-sorry, Potter, I just couldn't help it," Colin Creevey stammered softly. Harry's aura was too strong, making him stutter a bit.
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