(32) The Trophy Room

Ian and Draco exchanged glances before both turned to Flint.

"Uh, well, welcome to the Slytherin Quidditch team. Tomorrow, I'll familiarize you with the Quidditch rules," Flint said awkwardly.

And so, Ian and Draco found themselves unexpectedly and somewhat bewilderedly joining the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"This feels like a dream," Draco said in disbelief. "I actually joined Quidditch! In my first year! I'm only a first-year!"

"I didn't expect it either," Ian replied, feigning surprise. "I thought we'd at least have to wait until our second year to join the team."

"Merlin's beard! I must write to my father about this!" Draco said excitedly. "He'll be so proud of me! Ian! You know, we're the youngest Quidditch players in a century!"

"Ahem! Ian, Draco."

Hearing a cough, the two turned around to see the Gryffindor trio approaching them from behind.

"I've got great news for you—Harry's been made the Gryffindor Seeker!" Ron said enthusiastically. "The youngest Seeker in a century!"

Ian and Draco looked at each other before breaking into smiles.

"That really is great news," Ian said with a grin. "But, Ron, you might not know—Draco and I have also joined the Slytherin Quidditch team. I'm a Chaser or Beater, I don't know what I'm good at but Draco's a Seeker."

"What?!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock. "Three youngest Quidditch players in a century!"

"If I'd known, I would've flown up during that class too," Ron said regretfully. "Maybe Professor McGonagall would've picked me for the Gryffindor team."

"Oh, please. With your flying skills?" Hermione retorted mercilessly. "You'd be lucky if you didn't get thrown off the broom."

"You've never flown before, so you don't get to talk," Ron huffed.

"Alright, you two, stop arguing," Harry interrupted them with a sigh, though his expression soon grew worried. "Honestly, I'm a little scared. What if I embarrass myself during the match? I've never played Quidditch before."

"You won't, Harry," Hermione said confidently. "You and Ian both have a natural talent for it."

"I..." Harry started to say something, but Hermione cut him off.

"Come with me," she said. "There's something I want to show you."

Hermione led the group to the Trophy Room and stopped in front of a plaque. She pointed to the engraved words:

—Quidditch House Cup, Six-Time Consecutive Champions, Won by Gryffindor Seeker James Potter.—

"Look," Hermione said, turning to Harry. "Your father was once Gryffindor's Seeker, and one of the best Seekers in Hogwarts history."

She looked at Harry earnestly. "So, Harry, you don't need to worry. Quidditch is in your and Ian's blood."

Harry stared at the plaque, his eyes slowly growing wet.

Ian sighed inwardly.

Here we go again—another round of performing under Dumbledore's watchful eye.

He stayed silent for a moment before pretending to be overcome with emotion, grabbing Harry's hand excitedly. "Harry, did you see that? This is the honor Dad achieved in the past. Now, it's our turn!"

Harry, swept up in Ian's enthusiasm, wiped his eyes and grinned. "You're right, Ian! It's our turn!"

At that moment, a shadow suddenly fell over the group.

They turned to see Dumbledore standing there, smiling warmly at them.

"What a touching scene," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Seeing you two brothers reminds me so much of James and Lily back in the day."

Ian felt a jolt in his heart. He knew it—this old man had been secretly watching them all along.

He casually glanced at the portraits hanging on the walls, silently cursing in his mind.

These blasted paintings are his spies! All of them are in cahoots with Dumbledore!

"P-Professor Dumbledore," Harry stammered nervously.

"There's no need to be nervous, children," Dumbledore said kindly, his smile as warm as ever. "Old folks like me often get nostalgic. Seeing you all just made me want to come over and chat."

Ian sneered inwardly. You don't trust me, and you're just here to check up, but you make it sound so dignified.

"I heard you two little ones talking about making a big splash in Quidditch?"

Dumbledore said, looking at Harry and Ian with a smile. "I'm glad to see you both so confident. I think if your parents were still here, they would be very proud of you."

"Professor Dumbledore, we'll do our best!" Harry said firmly, clenching his fists.

Ian remained silent, only nodding slightly. He really didn't want to act out another deep brotherly bond performance in front of Dumbledore.

"Very good, Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile, nodding approvingly. "I look forward to seeing your performance in the Quidditch matches."

With that, Dumbledore turned to leave.

After walking a short distance, he suddenly glanced back at Ian, giving him a warm smile.

"And you too, young Ian. I'm looking forward to your performance as well."

Ian cursed silently in his heart but maintained a bright, innocent smile on his face as he waved at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore chuckled softly, then turned and walked away.

"Phew—" Harry exhaled a long breath. "Professor Dumbledore is so kind and approachable."

"Yeah, really kind," Ian echoed, though inwardly, he couldn't resist rolling his eyes.

"Alright, let's get going," Hermione urged. "If we don't leave soon, it'll be dark."

The group left the Trophy Room and returned. As soon as Ian and Draco entered the Slytherin common room, they were greeted by a group of excited students waving enthusiastically at them.

"Ian! Draco! You're back!" Theodore called out.

"Prefect Potter, we heard that you and Malfoy joined the Quidditch team!"

"Is it true?"

"That's amazing!"

"This time, Slytherin is bound to win!"

"Yeah!"

Ian and Draco were immediately surrounded by a crowd of excited students, who began bombarding them with questions.

"Alright, alright, everyone quiet down," Ian said, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "If you keep this up, Draco and I are going to go deaf."

Hearing this, the crowd fell silent, though their faces were still brimming with excitement as they looked at Ian and Draco.

"It's true," Ian said with a nod. "Draco and I have indeed joined the Quidditch team. But it's not just the two of us—Harry also joined Gryffindor's Quidditch team."

"So what! You're the best, Prefect!" Theodore, now Ian's loyal fan, immediately refuted. "If it weren't for you in today's flying class, Longbottom might've fallen to his death!"

"Exactly! Our prefect is the best! Who cares about Gryffindor!"

"Prefect, Slytherin will definitely win the Quidditch Cup—and the House Cup too!"

"That's right! We're going to win for seven straight years!"

Looking at the crowd's fervent expressions, Ian couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

How naïve.

There's no way Dumbledore would let Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup, let alone the House Cup.

Ian was willing to bet that even if Slytherin managed to win the House Cup purely on merit, Dumbledore would find a way to hand the trophy over to Gryffindor.

After all, Dumbledore still needed to build up Harry's "confidence" and ensure his recognition in the wizarding world.