As the previous chapter told, Draco's mention of the Nimbus 2000 sponsorship made Flint hesitate.
The only reason Draco was Seeker was that Lucius had used chests of gold and silver to order seven Nimbus 2000s as a "sponsorship" for the Slytherin team.
Having taken the bribe, Flint, who had gained a fine broom for nothing, had to grant Lucius one request: make Draco the Seeker.
Seeing Flint hesitate, and fearing he would lose face again in front of Harry, Draco gritted his teeth. "I can talk to my father... and get him to add two—no, three—of the newest model. The Nimbus 2001."
Flint licked his lips, clapped Draco on the shoulder, and shouted at Wood, "That's right, Wood! Do you dare to play us?"
Wood and Flint were old rivals. Forget a Quidditch match; if Flint had invited him to a mountain of knives or a sea of fire, Wood would have gone.
Both were eager to compete, but both were also worried about their new Seekers. By unspoken agreement, they pushed the date back, setting it for October.
After trading insults, the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams each took half the pitch to train.
"Harry, what days are you free? I need to adjust the training schedule." Wood took out a quill and parchment. "Also, if you're free in the evenings, you can join us in the common room to discuss strategy."
At the thought, Wood became dejected again. "I suppose I can cancel my subscription to Quidditch Weekly. That'll save a bit of money. In a few years, I might have enough for a better broom."
George consoled him, "Don't bother saving. By the time you have enough, you'll be graduating."
A Chaser named Angelina said, "Let's just listen to Harry's opinion."
Seeing all eyes on him, Harry spoke. "Strategy and formations are easily discussed. But there is one thing you must all promise me. You must polish your muscles and bones, and not slack off for a single day."
George immediately remembered seeing Ron at the Burrow, collapsed like a soft mud puddle, only breathing out and never seeming to breathe in.
Fearing he would suffer Ron's fate, he quickly said, "Harry, is that really necessary? We're flying on brooms. It doesn't take much stamina."
Harry ignored him. He dropped into a bow stance and suddenly lunged at George, slamming his shoulder into him.
It was an "Iron Mountain Charge," used only to make a point. Harry used only an inch of force, but George felt an immense pushing power and was sent flying two or three yards.
When he scrambled up, he was still in shock. "What was that?! Magic?"
Harry stood firm. "Brother, have you considered what would happen if I struck you like that on a broom?"
Wood had seen it clearly. He didn't hesitate. "Everyone, listen to Harry! Tomorrow, we all start training!"
From that day on, before the sun was up, Wood and the others would be on the pitch, practicing. And late at night, Harry would drill them on strategy in the common room.
Wood, having received Harry's personal instruction, became completely obsessed. Often, after the others had left, he would stay up until the third watch (past midnight) before finally stopping.
With all this work, and others always around, the trio's plan to investigate the library for infiltration magic had to be temporarily set aside.
One day at noon, Wood was forcing himself to stay awake, pondering Harry's "Besiege Wei to Rescue Zhao" strategy, when he heard a strange flapping sound. He looked up to see a dozen owls, each carrying a long, yellow-wrapped package, flying directly to the Slytherin table.
The packages were long and thin. There were seven of them. Wood's heart sank.
The Slytherins tore open the packages. Inside were Nimbus 2000s.
"Seven Nimbus 2000s?!"
"Wait, who sent these?"
The Slytherin table erupted. Flint leaped onto the table, holding his broom high. "Wood! Do you see this? The Nimbus 2000!"
"A gift from Malfoy's father, sponsoring Slytherin!"
Wood saw it clearly, his heart feeling as if it had been struck by a heavy hammer. The Gryffindors were all using Comets. Compared to the Nimbus, it was like a worn-out mill donkey facing a thoroughbred warhorse.
He felt sick and lost all interest in his lunch, hurrying back to the Gryffindor common room. Fred and the others tried to console him, but it had no effect.
"Don't worry, Wood. Those guys can only use brooms to make up for their lack of skill."
"That's right, technique is what matters."
"You don't have to comfort me," Wood sighed. "Let's face reality. Compared to their Nimbus series, our Comets are antiques."
The team fell into a gloomy silence.
"Brother Wood, why do you worry? This one also has a grand gift to present." Harry suddenly cupped his hands and smiled. "This one intended to give it before the match to boost morale, but it seems it must be presented a step earlier."
The others didn't understand. They just watched Harry go to his dormitory. A moment later, he returned, dragging a long crate.
He opened it. Inside lay seven long objects, each wrapped in black cloth.
"Oh, Harry, you bought us brooms?"
"That's too expensive," Fred said, shaking his head. "My Comet 260 is still good for a long time."
"It really doesn't matter, Harry. The only broom faster than a Nimbus 2000 is the Nimbus 2001," Alieya advised. "Thank you for the thought, but you should return them."
Harry grinned. "Sister, why not take a look first?"
Alieya gave a small laugh. "You didn't actually buy Nimbus 2001s, did you?"
She casually unwrapped the package. And then she froze.
"Ha... Harry... did you really buy... a Nimbus 2001?"
Hearing this, the others tore the wrapping off their own brooms. The common room filled with gasps.
"Mine is a Nimbus 2001 too!"
"Wait, no... all seven of them are!"
Wood and the others were stunned. Seven Nimbus 2001s. That had to be over ten thousand Galleons!
Seeing them silent, Harry cupped his hands again. "This one had some spare change on hand and was not sure where to use it. I happened to buy a few brooms to present to everyone."
Wood yelped. "We can't accept this, Harry! This gift is far too valuable!"
"Aiya! Brother, do not be so petty. It is just a broom. Take it."
"But—"
Before Wood could speak, Fred cut him off. "That's enough, Wood. You'll make Harry angry. He'd sooner snap the broom in two than return it."
Hearing this, Wood snapped his mouth shut. He looked at Harry, his eyes welling with tears. He had a thousand things to say.
But they all boiled down to one sentence. "We're not lacking anything now."
When match day arrived, the stadium was packed. Aside from the swath of Slytherin green, the rest was a sea of red.
Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were both wearing red scarves to support Gryffindor.
"Hmph. A mob of rabble." Flint sneered as he walked out of the locker room. He shouted, "Come on! Let's crush those Gryffindor fools!"
The seven of them strode onto the field with their Nimbus 2000s, standing opposite the Gryffindor team.
"Ready to cry, Wood?" Flint grinned. "The speed of a Nimbus 2000 is something your broken-down Comets can't even compare to."
In the past, Wood would have shot back a vicious reply. But now, he just scratched his head and cleaned his ear.
"Oh, Flint, you're right. I really don't know the speed of a Nimbus 2000." He grinned. "Why don't you say that to my Nimbus 2001?"
The Slytherins looked down. And froze.
Wait, is that a Nimbus 2001?
Seven of them!
Where did those paupers get the money?!
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