That afternoon, the news of Harry being exceptionally admitted to the House Quidditch team spread throughout the entire school.
Even the ghosts floating around were talking about it, let alone the other students.
"Seeker?" Ron was so astonished that he forgot to stuff the pie into his mouth, "But first-year students never — you must be the youngest House team player in many years."
"In a century," Harry replied with a smile, not forgetting to add, "Wood told me."
During his last six years in school, not to mention playing Quidditch, he couldn't even watch the school matches.
It's said that a student fell off a broomstick a few years ago, so Principal Black took the opportunity to stop the school Quidditch matches.
Not only did the students curse him privately, but even the ghosts whispered about it, and they even made a song to "praise" Principal Black's "great achievements."
Ron nodded understandingly, after all, his buddy was doing more than just catching the ball — he was also holding onto a heavy Malfoy.
"I start training next week." Harry picked up a juice cup and clinked it with Ron's: "By the way, did Malfoy say anything after I left?"
"Malfoy called Hermione a Mudblood, and Hermione cleaned out his mouth with 'Scourgify,' just like you did." Ron replied animatedly.
At that moment, Fred and George Weasley walked into the dining hall. They spotted Harry at once and quickly walked over.
"Well done, Harry," George said in a low voice, "Wood told us, we're on the House team too — we're Beaters, our job is to protect you from getting hit too hard."
"I'll tell you, we're definitely going to win the Quidditch Cup this year," Fred said, "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year, our team will surely shine. You're definitely great, Harry, when Wood was telling us about it, he was so excited he was nearly incoherent — when it comes to Quidditch, he's as strict as a miniature Professor McGonagall, so we're willing to trust his judgment."
"However, we have to go, Lee Jordan thinks he found a new secret passage that leads outside the school."
George quickly added: "I bet it's the passage behind Gregory the Smarmy's statue, we found it in our first week at school — see you later."
"Seriously." After the twins left, Harry said to Ron: "I've known the two of them for so long, and I still can't tell who is Fred and who is George..."
"Honestly, I can't tell either." Ron shrugged.
Hermione sat down at this moment, holding a thick old book in her arms, which was almost as big as her upper body.
"Oh my, what's this?" Ron asked in astonishment.
"Afternoon relaxation." Hermione plopped the book onto the table with a thud.
"You call this relaxation?" Ron asked dryly.
Hermione gave him a stern look, at which Ron wisely shut his mouth.
"To be honest," Ron turned and looked at Draco who was joking with Crabbe and Goyle: "The lesson during Flying Class wasn't enough, I think Malfoy needs to be taught a good lesson."
Hearing Malfoy's name, Harry's good mood suddenly turned sour.
If Cassandra knew her descendant was such a jerk, she might cast an Unforgivable Curse on his face on the spot, right?
Thinking this, his mood got even worse, his mind was filled with thoughts about that inaccessible Map Secret Room.
He was certain that there must be clues in the Map Secret Room.
But now he was only eleven, maybe he'd have to wait four years until he was fifteen to awaken Ancient Magic to be able to enter the Map Secret Room?
"Look." Ron picked up a newspaper beside him: "The Prophet Daily is still publishing the statements from Gringotts' fairies, claiming that Gringotts is the safest place."
Gringotts?
Harry immediately recalled, when he accompanied Hagrid to retrieve that small package, it was clearly emitting a sense of Ancient Magic.
His instinct at the time told him that with the help of that thing, the age limit of Ancient Magic would no longer be a problem.
However...
Harry was still a bit conflicted, after all, it was the principal's item, and it seemed very precious, how would he persuade the principal to let him borrow it?
Early the next morning, when Harry and Ron entered the Great Hall, and hadn't been seated for long, the owl messengers flew in.
Harry noticed four or five owls, holding a long package in their talons, circling in the air for a while before perfectly landing in front of him.
"Ah, my drumstick!" Ron exclaimed mournfully, as the package knocked his drumstick onto the ground.
Then he got attracted to the package.
"What on earth is this?"
"Mate, help me open the package, I'll read the letter." Harry said to Ron.
Then, he opened the letter.
"Do not open the package on the table. Inside is your latest Flying Broomstick — 'Light Wheel 2000', and I don't want everyone to know you have a new broomstick, in case they all want one."
"Oliver Wood will meet you at the Quidditch Pitch at seven tonight for your first training session. Professor Minerva McGonagall."
Harry put the letter down, trying to stop Ron from opening the package, but it was too late.
Ron had already unpacked the broomstick package, revealing the brand-new Light Wheel 2000 inside.
"Wow, mate!" Ron exclaimed in awe: "Is this the Light Wheel 2000, your new purchase?"
Beside him, Wood had his mouth open, full of envy.
Wood obviously guessed it was a gift from Professor McGonagall, but he couldn't say anything, after all Harry needed a fast broomstick for his Seeker position, and his family's financial situation might not be that great either.
But that didn't stop him from being envious, he was genuinely envious! Harry was only a first-year, which meant he could play on this Light Wheel 2000 for at least seven years!!!
"Remember to come find me for training tonight," Wood calmed his emotions, after all, he was a seasoned fifth-year student, not one to be jealous of a first-year kid, "Professor McGonagall has already told me to train you urgently for the next match against Slytherin — she must have told you, last year after losing heavily to Slytherin, she avoided Professor Snape for quite a while."
"I will." Harry nodded seriously.
Thinking back to his six years at Hogwarts, what he desired most was indeed the Quidditch banned by Principal Black.
Black, you've done all the bad things!