(35) Wood Vs Flint

After lunch, Ian and Hermione headed to the Quidditch pitch.

At that moment, Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint were locked in a standoff, standing face-to-face on the field.

Both were glaring at each other, as if trying to kill the other with their gaze alone.

"Flint, I'm here to train our new Gryffindor Seeker, Harry Potter, and I've got a note from Professor McGonagall," Wood said, patting Harry on the shoulder and addressing Flint across from him. "So kindly step aside."

"Wood, you've got impeccable timing," Flint sneered. "I also have a note from Professor Snape. I'm here to train our new Chaser, Ian Potter, and new Seeker, Draco Malfoy."

Flint emphasized the name "Potter," clearly trying to remind Wood that Gryffindor wasn't the only house with a Potter.

Hearing this, Wood frowned. "But we got here first."

"Wood, let me tell you something—it won't make a difference even if you practice," Flint said with a provocative smirk. "Don't forget, Slytherin has been the Quidditch champion for six consecutive years. Gryffindor is nothing more than our defeated opponent."

As he said this, Flint glanced at Draco standing beside him and then at Ian, who was walking toward them with Hermione.

He continued, "Especially this year, with such outstanding Chasers and Seekers on our team, your Gryffindor has no chance at all."

"You!" Wood was furious, gripping his broom tightly and preparing to charge at Flint to argue.

But just then, a slender hand reached out and stopped him.

"Wood, calm down," Ian said as he stepped up beside him.

Seeing it was Ian, Wood's expression softened considerably. He knew Ian was a decent Slytherin, so he suppressed his anger and said, "Ian, you're just in time. You tell me, isn't Flint being completely unreasonable?"

Ian gave Wood a reassuring smile, but inwardly he was cursing up a storm.

This Flint, who looks and thinks like a troll! Can't he just stop causing trouble with these Gryffindor fuckers?

And now I have to clean up this mess. If it weren't for my plan to 'build slowly and strike later,' I'd already have hit this guy with a nice, big Confringo!

Though he was mentally tearing Flint apart, Ian kept his composure. Turning to Flint, he offered a slight smile.

"Flint, the Quidditch pitch is large enough. You're only training me and Draco—we can easily divide the field in half and share it with Wood and his team."

"But Ian, that would interfere with our training," Flint frowned, clearly puzzled by Ian's suggestion. He couldn't understand why Ian would side with Gryffindor, even if his brother was there. So what?

"Flint, don't you think sharing the field might be a unique opportunity for both houses?" Ian patted Flint's shoulder and lowered his voice. "Besides, wouldn't you want to observe Gryffindor's tactics? See how they train their Seeker?"

Hearing Ian's words, Flint immediately understood his intent.

"You're right, Ian," Flint nodded in agreement. "This is the perfect chance for us Slytherins to crush Gryffindor's morale."

Turning to Wood, Flint gave him a smug, taunting smile.

"Wood, since Ian suggested it, let's train together. I'd love to see how you Gryffindors plan to beat us Slytherins this year."

Though Wood was reluctant to agree, Ian's earlier words lingered in his mind. Suppressing his frustration, he nodded. "Fine. We'll split the pitch—half for each of us."

With that, Wood and Flint led their respective teams to opposite sides of the field, beginning their training.

Before Ian headed off to change, Hermione quietly pulled him aside.

"What did you say to Flint just now? Why did he suddenly agree?" she whispered.

"I told him this was a great opportunity to crush Gryffindor's morale and watch how they train their Seeker," Ian said with a sly smile, keeping his voice low. "He's so eager to see Gryffindor humiliated that he couldn't resist agreeing."

"Smart as always," Hermione said with a playful glance, then added, "Hurry up and change. I'm looking forward to watching your practice."

Ian nodded and headed for the locker room.

A short while later, Ian emerged in Slytherin's Quidditch uniform and stepped onto the field.

Draco, already in his uniform and holding his broomstick, was waiting at the edge of the pitch. Spotting Ian, he immediately came over. "Come on, Ian! I know the rules of Quidditch well. Just pay attention to Flint's instructions, and if there's anything you don't understand, ask me."

Ian nodded and followed Draco to Flint's side.

Seeing that both Ian and Draco were ready, Flint cleared his throat and began explaining the rules of Quidditch.

While listening to Flint's explanation, Ian couldn't help but glance over at Gryffindor's training on the other side of the pitch.

Harry was perched on his broomstick, diving and ascending repeatedly under Wood's guidance, practicing a variety of maneuvers.

Harry really has a natural talent for flying.

Watching Harry's movements, Ian couldn't help but nod to himself in acknowledgment.

His movements were smooth and instinctive, showing no signs of inexperience.

For a moment, Ian felt a twinge of jealousy. Born talent, huh? Must be nice. Unlike me, who had to spend points buying skills from the system.

But the jealousy was fleeting, and Ian quickly shifted his focus back.

I'm Ian, a transmigrator with a system. If I can't even outperform an eleven-year-old wizard, what's the point of having these advantages?

With his motivation reignited, Ian looked up at Flint. "Flint, I've memorized everything you said. Can we start training now?"

Draco, just as eager, chimed in, "Yes, Flint, let's start already. I can't wait!"

Flint glanced at Ian and Draco, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Alright. If you're both ready, let's begin the training!"

With that, he turned and strode toward the center of the pitch.

"You'll start with the basics," Flint instructed. "Ride your broomsticks around the pitch a few times to get a feel for their performance." He held up two quaffles. "These are quaffles. Potter, as the Chaser, your task is to get these quaffles into those three hoops. Malfoy, as the Seeker, I don't need to explain your job—catch the Golden Snitch."

Ian and Draco nodded, mounted their broomsticks, and followed Flint toward the center of the pitch.

On the other side, Wood, noticing Slytherin beginning their training, called Harry to start theirs as well.

For a while, the pitch was alive with the sounds of broomsticks zooming through the air.

As Ian flew his broomstick high above the pitch, his mind wandered to the idea of transforming it into a sword.

Maybe I can ask Professor McGonagall about it. If I can fly on a sword instead, how cool would that be?

The thought amused him so much.

"Ian, what's so funny?" Draco flew up beside him, looking puzzled.

"Nothing, just thought of something amusing," Ian replied, shaking his head, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Seeing Ian unwilling to elaborate, Draco didn't press further. 

"Oh! look at Harry. I saw him find the Golden Snitch in just ten minutes earlier. He's incredibly fast."

At that, Draco clenched his teeth. "This won't do! From now on, I'm coming to train every single day! There's no way I'm letting Slytherin lose the Quidditch Cup because of me!"

"Then you'll need to work hard," Ian said with a slight smile. "Harry does have a natural talent for flying. If you want to surpass him, you'll have to put in the effort."

"Hmph! Just wait. I'll definitely beat him!" Draco huffed before speeding off ahead.

Watching Draco's determined figure, Ian chuckled to himself and sped up to follow.

________

Read ahead at P@treon.com/Dragonel

Ch 43 is already there and my goal is to make that 12 chaps ahead of WN♥