Chapter 71

"So... I don't know. What do you want to do in the future?" Albert asked the trio.

"We hope to open a circus like the Greatest Showman. What was his name? Barnum?" Mario said.

"P. T. Barnum. The founder of Barnum & Bailey Circus," Daniel said.

"And we're going to be known as the 'Flying Graysons'," Jackson said.

"Why the 'Flying Graysons'?" Angelina asked.

"The three of us are secondborn," Jackson said.

"We also inherit nothing," Mario said.

"And we're from the Grey faction," Daniel said.

"And, thus, the name..." Mario said.

"THE FLYING GRAYSONS!" They said it at the same time.

"The Grey Fraction?" Angelina said it in a confused manner.

"You have the light faction headed by Dumbledore, and they are advocates of muggle rights. The Dark Faction, known as the Death Eaters, was originally headed by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and is now led by the Malfoys. They're all for blood supremacy and purity. and the Grey Fraction, led by the Greengrass Family. They are on the fence and pick the side that would benefit them the best," Albert explained.

"How do you know that?" Angelina asked.

"I like to read," Albert replied. "Can you show us what you've got?"

"Okay. Now watch," Mario said.

The three boys stood in a perfect triangle, their eyes locked on each other with fierce intensity. In unison, they reached behind their backs and withdrew gleaming silver knives from who knows where. They drew their wands, and with a flick of the wrists, props appeared behind each one of them, and music began playing. A haunting melody that underscored the danger of what was to come. Mario took a step forward and hurled his knife at Jackson. The blade whistled through the air, slicing through a thin curtain of smoke that Daniel had conjured and embedding itself on the wooden board behind Jackson's head.

The crowd behind them held its breath as Jackson stepped forward, taking aim at Mario. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the knife spinning towards his partner. It sailed through the air, grazing Mario's cheek before trunking into the wooden board beside him. Finally, it was Daniel's turn. The youngest-looking of the trio, he had a nervous energy that set him apart from his two Gryffindor companions. He stepped forward and brandished his knife, his eyes wide with anticipation.

The music swelled to a crescendo as Daniel threw his knife towards Jackson, who deftly caught it by the handle. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it spinning back towards Daniel. The blade sliced through the air, grazing Daniel's ear before lodging itself on the board behind him. The crowd broke into a slow and broken applause.

"That was cool but dangerous," Lee said.

"Lee is right, and you shouldn't be doing that here," Charlie said as he vanished with the props. "We are here to do some Quidditch practise, not play with knives that graze other people's cheeks."

Mario sneered at Charlie as he put all his knives back from wherever he got them. Under the urging of the captain, all the boys went to change into their protective Quidditch gear. The protective gear comprised head protection, a gum shield, upper body protection, thigh pads, a box, knee pads, and boots.

The Gryffindor Quidditch training kit, in Albert's opinion, was a sight to behold. It was the usual blood-red colour that is synonymous with the house of lions. They made the shirt of a soft, breathable material that was perfect for the sport, and it clung to the protective gear like a second skin. The tailors trimmed the collar and sleeves with bold gold lines, emphasising that there should be a "fiery spirit' among the team.

But it was the shorts that caught his eye. They were a deep crimson shade, with a bold white stripe down each side, giving the impression of lightning bolts, just like the scar on a certain young wizard's forehead. The shorts were short enough to allow for simple movement but not so short as to reveal too much. And then there were the socks, thick and sturdy, also red, with gold stripes at the top. They came up to just below the knee, providing protection from the rough play on the pitch. They completed the Quidditch training kit with a pair of black boots.

This was Albert's third time riding a broom. Most pure-bloods could ride their brooms in their private manors away from the prying eyes of muggles before Hogwarts. That is most likely the reason most of the quidditch players are half-bloods who have been raised in the magical world and purebloods.

Albert held his assigned broom in his hand. Time had weathered its once vibrant wooden handle, leaving it worn and aged. The bristles were uneven, as if they had endured countless battles in the sky. Neglected by the passing years, it still held a glimmer of the magic it had once possessed. It may not have possessed the sleekness of the latest models or the allure of innovative enchantments, but it carried within it the spirit of the game.

"We will start off with a couple of laps around the field, alright? Off we go," Charlie said as he lifted off.

As Albert soared through the skies, he couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance between his broom and an old bicycle. Its worn bristles seemed to struggle against the wind, resulting in a rather sluggish response. The broom's response to his commands was far from seamless, demanding the utmost control and concentration.

However, amidst the quidditch practise, Gryffindor Quidditch team members seemed to glide through the air. Their brooms carried them with grace and speed, effortlessly, and most of his friends were keeping pace with the team. The only one falling behind was Lee Jordan, a newcomer to the world of broomsticks. He had a go on a broomstick at the time as Albert, however. Let's say that while his skill as a rookie flyer was commendable, the contrast with Albert's performance showed the difference in latent potential.

Despite his best efforts, he found himself constantly falling behind, desperately attempting to match the speed and finesse of the experienced riders.

"Keep up the good work," Charlie encouraged, acknowledging the first year's determination. "Find your own pace. It doesn't matter if you're slower than the rest. As long as you're comfortable, we can bring up the speed as you get more experienced."

It was clear to all that Albert possessed a natural talent for flying. With each turn and manoeuvre, he displayed remarkable balance and agility, far beyond what one would expect from someone who had only ridden a broom a handful of times. As the team completed five laps around the stadium, the warm-up exercise ended. Words of praise towards the first years filled the air, highlighting the reason Charlie held such optimism for this group of students to win the quidditch cup once he graduated.

After warming up, the quidditch team went off to do whatever they needed to do alongside the reserves. They left Charlie with the first year to help them. The first years lined up before a wooden ladder that Charlie had transfigured. He tasked them with weaving their way through the rungs in almost perfect synchronicity. The captain continued the drill until they were in perfect synchronicity.

After the ladder drill concluded, the young Gryffindor moved on to the next drill. A procession of cones stood tall, forming a labyrinth of possibilities. They navigated through the maze, making their bodies contort and twist with unnatural precision into unnatural shapes. Next, the children engaged in reaction drills. The captain conducted their drill this time. With a flick of the wand or a resounding whistle, foam-like balls were fired at them at remarkable speeds. He tasked them with dodging as many as they could. The loser would have to help tidy up the equipment after training.

Next, they ventured into a sea of cones arranged in a zigzag pattern. They did this to make their footsteps precise and purposeful. Each turn and change of direction had to echo the fluidity that Charlie was preaching. The first years then embarked on a series of shuttle runs. Like fleeting shadows, they sprinted back and forth, their bodies propelled by determination and sheer will as their bodies were on the verge of giving up. Noticing their depleting efforts, Charlie gave them a ten-minute break and a diluted cup of gillyweed water.

In the drill after their break, the trainees stood before a collection of small hurdles. With unwavering determination, after hearing the loser also has to help the other loser clean up, they leaped over the hurdles. Charlie formed a T-shaped configuration of cones. With fierce determination, he made them sprint forward, making sure their fingertips touched the top of the end cone, before shifting sideways to do the same to the other end.

After finishing physical training and another cup of diluted gillyweed water, they could join the others on their brooms. They took part in a few simulated attacking and defending scenarios and set pieces before Charlie called today's training to a halt.