Harry Potter : Bloodraven

"Mr. Flint, I'm surprised you've chosen to go first... are you ready?" Maverick asked, raising an eyebrow as the Slytherin Quidditch team captain stepped forward.

The boy nodded confidently. "The position of the school team's Chaser will be mine, Professor. I'll show everyone why we've won the last consecutive school cups,"

Maverick chuckled softly. He didn't mind the boldness—if anything, he appreciated the confidence. Starting the trial with a demonstration from a seasoned player like Flint seemed like a good thing anyway.

"Good luck," Maverick said with a smile, stepping aside to let Flint prepare.

Meanwhile, the students whispered among themselves, discussing Flint's decision to go first. Their thoughts mirrored Maverick's in some ways, though with a touch of skepticism.

"Tsk. This guy's a real idiot, volunteering to go first," one student muttered under their breath. "Doesn't he know that the later you go, the more advantages you'll have? You can observe and learn from others' mistakes."

Another student shrugged, looking uneasy. "I don't know... I feel like the more I watch, the more nervous I'll get,"

A third student chimed in, crossing their arms. "Yeah, but going first also means you set the standard. If Flint nails it, the rest of us will have to work twice as hard to impress the professors."

Another voice piped up from the back, sounding defensive. "Or maybe he's just confident. Not everyone needs to overthink everything... Sometimes it's better to just go for it."

A Gryffindor nearby smirked and added, "Confident or not, I'm not letting a Slytherin show us up. If Flint can do it, so can I."

"It's all about strategy." A Ravenclaw added after thinking thoughtfully. "Watch the angles of the hoops and plan your turns in advance. That's the key."

The chatter continued, a mix of nerves, confidence, and competitive spirit filling the air, until Professor Caesar's magically amplified voice rang out for everyone to hear.

"The trial has officially begun. The first contestant is Mr. Marcus Flint from Slytherin house."

Cheers erupted, mostly from the group of Slytherins, as Flint mounted his broom, gripping it tightly and ready to take off.

"Ready, set... go!"

Flint kicked the ground and shot forward like a rocket, his eyes locked on the hoop numbered one. He passed through it flawlessly, his movements sharp and precise, drawing gasps and cheers from the crowd of students.

Maverick raised a brow as he watched Flint's takeoff and the skill he displayed. He turned his head slightly and noticed that even Steven standing beside him looked impressed by the precision and control Flint had over the broom.

"He's worthy of being the Slytherin team captain..."

Steven nodded in agreement. "Pretty good… but there's room for improvement," he added thoughtfully after a moment before jotting down a few notes.

When the Slytherin Seeker zigzagged through the air and neared the 15th ring, Maverick turned his attention back to the crowd and gestured to the prefects to send the next student.

This time, it was the Gryffindors' turn to step forward, and before long, a familiar face made his way to the starting point.

"Get him, Oliver!"

"Don't lose to Flint!"

The little witches and wizards of Gryffindor house cheered as Oliver Wood walked up and stopped in front of Maverick and Steven.

"Not bad," Maverick commented, fixing his eyes on the captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team, who exuded the same confidence as Flint had before him. Both were captains of their house's team, and it was clear that neither was willing to let the other hog all the spotlight.

"Flint will probably take the Chaser's position, so it's up to you to show whether you've got what it takes to secure the Keeper's spot," he added, offering a few words of encouragement as he handed the boy one of the neatly arranged brooms. "Get ready. When I say 'go,' you can take off."

Moments later, just as Marcus Flint passed through the 20th hoop, Maverick gave the signal, and Oliver Wood took off toward the first ring.

"Wow!"

"Go, Oliver!"

The Gryffindors shouted their support, their cheers just as loud and enthusiastic as those coming from the Slytherins beside them.

And among their group, Ronald Weasley was practically bouncing with excitement, pointing at the sky with a fanatic look on his face.

"Just look at Oliver, Harry... his flying is as skilled as that slimy snake's... no, he's even faster—he's already passed the fifth ring!"

Harry nodded with a hum, but his expression was more anxious than the frantic excitement radiating from his friend. He couldn't help but feel the pressure as he watched the two seniors display their impressive skills, all while remembering the mission he had come here to accomplish.

Just yesterday, he had been taken to the office of his head of house, Professor McGonagall, along with Oliver Wood, and was offered a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as their Seeker.

It had all happened so suddenly—after the little accident during his first week, then being invited to join the practice, and finally being offered an official spot on the team.

After thinking about everything, Harry realized he had a natural talent for the sport and for flying in general. Unlike his studies, where he often felt like he was playing catch-up with everyone else—having come to Hogwarts without any prior knowledge of the wizarding world—Quidditch had given him a sense of confidence like nothing before.

For the first time, he felt like he had something he was genuinely good at. And now, he wasn't satisfied with just being his house's Seeker. He wanted more. He wanted to be the school team's Seeker, or at least secure the reserve position, and was determined to make it happen by showing his skills today.

Well, that was until he saw Flint and Oliver fly at their best. Watching their precision, speed, and control, he finally realized the level of competition he was up against.

...

Meanwhile.

"Look! Number 22 turned red... wait, it's green again!" The comment came just as Flint passed through the 22nd hoop.

The Slytherins looked worried watching the scene and started speculating about what may happen next.

"Does that mean he failed? He must have touched the wall of the ring, right? That's why it turned red for a moment..."

"No," another student replied quickly. "The professor said to keep going even if you hit a ring or miss one. His score might be lowered, but it's not a fail."

As the students debated his performance, Flint, up in the air, didn't seem to notice that he had brushed against the ring.

Whoosh!

His focus remained sharp on the course ahead, nearing the finish line, determined to set a record that no student today can beat.

With a graceful dive through the 29th ring, he took a sharp turn to the right and smoothly passed through the final one.

Roar!

He heard the loud cheers erupt from below and slowed down before coming to a stop, finally glancing down. His housemates were all clapping and shouting his name, and even some students from other houses joined in.

His eyes then landed on another figure who had started while he was halfway through the trial. He couldn't help but raise a brow at the impressive maneuvering he was witnessing.

Oliver controlled his broom with ease, turning left, right, up, and down as if he were walking, weaving effortlessly through ring after ring. He was already halfway through the course, and it was clear that this rival of his would very likely become the school team's Keeper—his future teammate.

"Flint, you can come down now. Fly around the rings instead of going through them and land next to us."

He suddenly heard a voice in his ear—the voice of Professor Caesar. Looking down, he saw the man nodding at him and figured the professor had used some kind of voice transmission magic he wasn't familiar with.

On the ground, Steven made some notes before glancing at Maverick, who also turned to him.

"That was good, honestly. I'd be surprised if we see anyone better—but we'll see. For now, this boy, Flint, would be my pick for Chaser's position."

Maverick smiled. "He is the captain of Slytherin's Quidditch team, after all. But who knows? There may be some surprises," he said, glancing toward the Gryffindor group. His eyes landed on a figure watching Oliver, still in the air, with a solemn expression.

"Let's move on..."

There was already a Ravenclaw wizard in position, and Maverick gave the signal for him to start.

Time moved on, and under the enthusiastic atmosphere of the trials, three hours passed in the blink of an eye.

Over a hundred students had been tested so far without any accidents, but there were still about twice that number waiting for their turn. Fortunately, this was a two-day event, and he was confident he'd be able to test each and every student by the end of tomorrow.

For today, there was still time, as the trials would continue after lunch.

"Go and take a rest, Mr. Finnigan. You did well."

Maverick turned to see McGonagall comforting a first-year student who had just finished his round. The boy looked dejected, clearly unhappy with his own performance.

He nodded reluctantly and ran toward the group of Gryffindors, while the next in line stepped forward and stood before them.

"Professor, I'm ready."

The red-haired boy gave his affirmation, and McGonagall took the lead, handing him a broom. Meanwhile, Maverick's attention was on the three figures who had yet to finish their round. Apart from grading their flying skills, his main focus was ensuring that no students had any accidents. He didn't relax his vigilance for a moment, carefully observing every witch and wizard during their flight.

"Remember to be careful and don't try to fly faster than you can control..." McGonagall advised.

She then looked at Maverick, waiting for his signal. A few moments later, he retracted his gaze from the sky and gave her a small gesture, telling her she could let him start.

The Weasley twin—whom Maverick wasn't entirely sure which one—mounted the broom and got into position. Maverick watched with a hint of anticipation in his heart, wanting to see his skills, after all, they were key characters in the books, and they were said to be exceptionally good at flying.

So far, not many names he was familiar with had taken their turn. Among the crowd, he could spot Harry, Ron, Cedric Diggory, Angelina, Roger Davies, and many others who hadn't yet tested their skills. He was looking forward to seeing how each of them would perform and whether they might surprise him.

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Author's Note:

Just a quick update — up to Chapter 117 is already available on P AT r30n!

PAT r30n [.] com / RyanFic