Chapter 92: Passing the Flight Test
He needed more speed.
Fortunately, these Bludgers had been weakened considerably. That, combined with Shawn's Proficient flying, made them easy enough to dodge.
"First Quaffle!"
Madam Hooch loosed the ball. The leather Quaffle, twelve inches across, shot out like a nimble bird.
Shawn locked onto it. The wind roared louder in his ears. In a heartbeat, his magic brushed the braking charm built into the broom. The Nimbus 2000 stopped as if it were part of his own body. A sharp turn, and he left the Bludger a long way behind.
Only in that first burst did he truly feel what the panel meant:
[Greatly increases sensitivity to a broom's magic.]
[Greatly enhances flying talent.]
[Slightly boosts short‑term acceleration in flight.]
His magic felt as if it were surging, and when he triggered the broom's acceleration charm, the power behind it more than doubled. Yet he still tracked the Quaffle cleanly, even as his speed spiked.
In under ten seconds, Shawn caught the first Quaffle. The test's benchmark allowed three full minutes for that.
Once held, the Quaffle clung tight to his hand, thanks to the Gripping Charm invented by a wizard in 1875.
He swept low over the grass and dropped it neatly into the basket by Madam Hooch's feet.
"Excellent!" she shouted. "Second one!"
"Cool!"
Up in the stands, Justin punched the air. Hermione's cheeks flushed with excitement. "Terrifying, really," she muttered.
"If I had not seen the notice and missed Shawn's test… Merlin, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life," Justin said suddenly.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but their focus snapped back to Shawn at once.
The second Quaffle was clearly faster and more agile than the first, looping around the goalposts in quick, swooping arcs.
It still did not give Shawn much trouble.
"Third!" Madam Hooch called, more animated by the second. "Watch it. Catch this Quaffle and you are through. You have twelve minutes left."
The flight test ran for fifteen minutes. On paper, a student was meant to pace themselves: one minute, then five minutes, then nine minutes.
Shawn's performance was so far beyond the usual level that all of that went out the window.
He was moving more than twice as quickly as most.
It only made Madam Hooch feel the waste more keenly.
Such a fine Quidditch prospect.
At that moment, a tall Gryffindor arrived with a knot of red‑and‑gold behind him. He was still talking.
"We are going to be the strongest side, better than any other House, because we train harder than they do and we have flown in all weathers," Oliver Wood was saying.
"Too right," said George Weasley. "My clothes have not been dry since August."
"And we have the best Seeker, and a brand‑new Nimbus 2000," Wood added, chest heaving as he turned to Harry. "It is down to you now. Show them your talent.
"Today you either catch the Snitch, or die trying."
"So no pressure, Harry," Fred said with a wink.
Harry did not feel remotely less pressured.
On the pitch, Madam Hooch was all but shaking with energy.
Shawn was her student more than anyone else's. Watching him weave between two Bludgers, closing on the Quaffle step by step, lit every old Quidditch spark in her heart.
Bludgers were at their fastest in the early stages of the game. There were no Beaters here to whack them harder. Most students who passed the test dragged the Bludgers around until they began to slow, then went for the Quaffle. That was why the time limit was in place.
Shawn did the opposite. He met the Bludgers head-on, relying on sheer speed and sure hands to slip every hit.
Madam Hooch had entirely forgotten she had never told him the Bludgers would slow down. Shawn, having snatched his chance so quickly the first time, had not noticed either.
"Trust yourself, Mr Green. Faster!"
She watched the little Ravenclaw explode forward like a meteor ripping across the sky. It felt like standing on the sidelines of a match again. "Accelerate. Turn, Mr Green. You can do this."
Her unguarded enthusiasm left Wood staring.
"Mr Green?" he muttered. "Does anyone know who that is?"
"I think… I might," Harry said, hardly believing his own eyes.
Shawn Green. There was not a first‑year student in Hogwarts who did not know the name. He was top in nearly everything. Professor McGonagall clearly backed him. Even Professor Snape refrained from insulting him – sometimes he even added points to Ravenclaw.
That alone was astonishing.
His notes were legendary. That was what most students remembered best.
Every weekend, Ron could be heard in the dormitory howling, "I am going to die without Green's notes. No, really, I will die. I'll die right in the middle of a History of Magic essay."
Up in the clear blue sky,
Shawn closed on the last Quaffle astride his broom. Under a hundred dazed eyes, he burst forward yet again, left the Bludgers spinning in his wake and, at a speed to match half the Seekers in Hogwarts, seized the ball.
Harry and the others heard Madam Hooch clapping.
"Very good, Mr Green. You have passed your flight test with full marks."
Two cries of delight rang out from the stands. Harry saw Justin – the Hufflepuff – nearly topple over the railing and Hermione snatch his robes to haul him back.
"This… Green. Harry, tell me he is a Gryffindor," Wood said, dazed.
"He is Ravenclaw," Harry answered quietly.
"Oh. Right. Harry, we need to start. Now. Get used to your Nimbus 2000. You are still the best Seeker we have," Wood said sharply.
"Possibly not," Fred murmured, watching the first‑year drop back to the ground.
"Another Nimbus 2000," George added.
"That is a surprise."
"Feels a bit off."
"Ravenclaw might be better than us."
"Do you think we are going to lose the next match?"
"Shut it, you two," Wood snapped. His roar cut the twins off. They exchanged a look, then glanced over at Shawn and pulled matching faces.
George needed only a second to read Fred's meaning.
Go and get him.