The Return to Hogwarts

Hermione clutched her chest and cried out in concern. Harry turned to Hermione, and gave Neville and Ginny, who were equally worried about him, a smile. Perhaps it was a smile, or perhaps a twitch of his cheek as if he had a toothache; Harry wasn't quite sure. Fred and George, on the other hand, seemed quite interested. They were probably the Hogwarts young wizards who had dealt with dung balls the most, and didn't care much about the stench of the dung balls.

"Prepare!"

Professor Blaine raised one hand into the air, making a downward cutting motion.

The other three young wizards didn't quite understand what the strange gesture meant, but Harry had seen it before. When he was in school at a Muggle school, the starter would make the same gesture before announcing the start of a race at the school's sports meet.

Harry stared intently at Professor Blaine's outstretched palm. Gradually, all the surrounding noise faded away, and he could only hear his own heartbeat. This feeling of complete concentration was somewhat like the feeling he had before catching the Golden Snitch in Quidditch matches, as if all moving objects were trapped in amber about to solidify.

Draco, Cedric, and Cho Chang all dashed out after that short, solemn "Begin," but Harry rushed out the instant Professor Blaine's hand fell!

In a second, Harry had already leaped twenty feet across the red line, but that distance was still insignificant compared to the quarter-mile course.

At this moment, Harry regretted not having spent more time running recently; otherwise, he would have avoided getting hit by fewer dung balls.

Draco looked at Harry, who was several feet ahead of him, with resentment in his eyes.

Whether it was dealing with the Infernal or the boat race, the fruits of victory always fell into Potter's hands. Even in Quidditch, he was a step behind. Pride and self-esteem made him unable to tolerate always losing to Potter in such contests. He mustered all his strength to catch up and was determined to beat Harry tonight.

However, this competition isn't about speed.

Just as Draco was thinking about 'avenging himself', a dozen or so 'dung balls' finally 'descended'!

To be fair, Harry and his friends are in a much better situation than Professor Blaine had just been. When Professor Blaine demonstrated for them, the first wave of attacks consisted of dozens of dung balls, but now there are only a dozen or so coming at them. Moreover, the number of targets has suddenly increased fourfold. In other words, each person only needs to dodge four or five dung balls.

But this only makes it easier in theory; in practice, it is much more difficult.

Draco stared in horror at the shadows hurtling toward his face. He tried to dodge, but his brain sent out commands while his body failed to respond to those complex instructions. He couldn't make any complicated dodging movements. In the nick of time, Draco suddenly clutched his head, let out a strange cry, and then tumbled several times on his knees!

Harry wasn't much better off than Draco. He was clearly trying to imitate Professor Blaine's amazing 'C' shaped movement, but unfortunately, he didn't have a flying broom. Rapid changes of direction at high speed are not so simple. Harry slipped and fell straight to the ground with a thud.

"what!"

A piercing scream that could shatter glass suddenly rang out.

Caught off guard, Qiu Zhang was attacked by three large dung balls, as if she had been punched three times simultaneously. The subsequent explosion of foul-smelling liquid made her face turn pale. Qiu Zhang collapsed onto the sticky ground, tears streaming down her face as she retched.

"Qiu Zhang!"

Perhaps it was luck, or perhaps it was composure, but Cedric managed to dodge the first wave of attacks. He caught a glimpse of Harry and Draco falling almost simultaneously out of the corner of his eye, and a secret thrill rose within him. Just as he was about to seize the opportunity to overtake them, a scream from behind made his heart clench. Cedric immediately stopped in his tracks, turned around, and rushed to Cho Chang's side to help her up.

"What are you doing, Mr. Diggory!" Amosta's voice was colder than ever before. "You think this is just a game, huh? A good opportunity for you to show your gentlemanly manners?"

Amosta then turned his chilling gaze to Qiu Zhang, who seemed to have lost the will to fight.

"Does the stench of dung balls make you more nauseous than the smell of fresh blood? Stand up and finish the rest of the way!"

Cedric gritted his teeth, preparing to leave Cho Chang's side to continue his challenge, but the short delay he made allowed the second wave of attacks to arrive. Before he could even stand up straight, something slammed into his forehead, causing Cedric's vision to go black and him to fall over.

Professor Blaine's chilling reprimand left Cho Chang at a loss. She instinctively obeyed his orders, but the sticky, smelly stench left her with no strength in her limbs. She struggled a few times but couldn't get up. The exploding dung balls around her pushed her to the brink of collapse. She could only cover her face and sob as her shoulders trembled.

Draco's knees were badly injured in the first wave of attacks, while Harry's heavy fall left his head numb.

The two did not give up. The crisis they faced made them continue their arduous journey, even though they couldn't hear what Professor Blaine was reprimanding them.

However, Draco and Harry had completely lost their composure at this moment. They used the same foolish method, covering their faces with one hand and scrambling forward.

This method was obviously unsustainable for long. Before they could run fifty feet, Harry and Draco, having taken a series of heavy blows, collapsed. They curled up on the floor, holding their heads in their hands, too weak to stand up again.

“We can’t just passively wait for the attack to come; we have to learn to anticipate and observe the opponent’s movements—” Amosta ordered the armored vehicle to stop attacking, sighing helplessly, “Running with your eyes covered. That’s suicide.”

Just as Harry had predicted, every young wizard who came to the classroom that night was tortured; none of them could last more than fifty feet. And every girl who participated in the training left the classroom with tears in her eyes.

“From now on, you don’t need to be at the Quidditch pitch before six o’clock, but you need to spend half an hour every day running. You can choose your own time to continue running, and I will know if you are doing what I ask.”

Before leaving the classroom, Professor Blaine's instruction left all the young wizards speechless with despair.

"Before returning to your respective college lounges, go to the school hospital to treat your injuries. I've already spoken to Mrs. Pomfrey, and she'll take care of you."

Professor Blaine resumed his usual friendly tone, smiling as he addressed everyone.

"You can leave now. Um, Harry, you stay behind for a bit, I need to talk to you about something."

Many young wizards gave Harry pitying looks, except, of course, those from Slytherin.

Harry had never wanted to get away from Professor Blaine as much as he did now, but he could only watch helplessly as Hermione and the others rushed out of the classroom.

"Professor Blaine—"

Harry tried to appear as weak as possible, and he said pitifully,

“If you want me to try again, I’m afraid—I mean, I’m in pain all over.”

“It has nothing to do with that, Harry.”

Amosta chuckled.

“I didn’t expect you to accomplish all this in just a few training sessions. In fact, I kept you here because I have a gift for you, ah—a belated gift.”

Chapter 384 A Belated Gift

2023-07-20

Harry blinked, and it took him several seconds to understand what Professor Blaine was talking about.

Before the end of the second semester of their second year, Professor Blaine privately gave the three of them some rewards in recognition of their positive role in the Basilisk incident.

Hermione received a profound magic book, which was perfectly to her liking; Harry had even seen her studying its contents recently. Ron, on the other hand, received a Merlin coin, said to be quite valuable. Harry knew that Ron had kept the coin with him ever since, frequently taking it out to play with it.

But Harry didn't receive anything at the time; Professor Blaine simply told him that he would prepare a gift for him and give it to him in the future.

Last Christmas, Harry received a firebolt. He and Ron initially thought it was a gift from Professor Blaine, but they later learned that the broom was actually a gift from Sirius Black, not Professor Blaine.

By now, Harry had stopped thinking about it much, only muttering a few words to himself when Hermione took out her spellbook and Ron played with the coin. But he never expected that Professor Blaine would bring it up at this time.

"Oh--"

Harry wanted to be modest, but he was genuinely curious about what Professor Blaine would give him.

It can't be a flying broomstick, right? He already has the best flying broomstick in the world. But what else could it be besides something related to Quidditch?

A complete set of care tools for flying brooms?

Harry had indeed wanted this for some time, but he was still considering it. Although he was wealthy enough to afford it, it was quite expensive, and he didn't have the ability to earn money yet, so he had to be careful with his money.

A sophisticated Quidditch match replay model?

This model can replay the entire process of any classic Quidditch match in history. It is the latest alchemical tool launched by Nimbus Inc. Harry has been longing for it ever since he learned of its existence. However, this thing is also not cheap.

After much thought, Harry's mind was filled with Quidditch-related thoughts; after all, it was his favorite sport in the wizarding world.

It can't be a house key, can it?

Harry saw Professor Blaine reach into his pocket and fumble around, and the thought suddenly popped into his head.

Sirius Black had previously said he would pick him up from the Dursleys' house during the summer holidays and put him in his ancestral home. However, Sirius also said that the house now belonged to Professor Blaine, and he only had the right to use it. Harry didn't quite understand how this had happened, but if Professor Blaine were to pull out the key to the house now...

"Here you go, Harry—"

Professor Blaine finally took his hand out of his pocket and handed over a glittering gold object, a mysterious smile on his face that Harry couldn't understand.

Back in the Gryffindor tower, Harry was still dazed as he looked past the portrait of the Fat Lady. He had a gift from Professor Blaine in his pocket, but what Harry cared more about was Professor Blaine's intention in giving it to him.

The common room was as noisy as ever. Fred and George were vividly telling Lee Jordan and the other young wizards surrounding them about the jokes Cedric had made that night. George imitated Professor Blaine scolding Cedric, making everyone laugh.

Harry didn't join in; he quietly slipped past them, and Hermione was waving at him from the sofa.

Where is Ron?

Hermione pointed to the crowd gathered on the other side of the lounge, then lifted her wet hair and sniffed it carefully.

Although Professor Blaine eliminated the stench of the excrement balls from them, the girls, who preferred cleanliness, could not easily shake off the lingering trauma. The first thing each little witch did upon returning to her dormitory was to rush into the washroom and thoroughly clean herself.

"What's going on, Harry?"

Hermione was wearing a downy yellow nightgown. She had pulled the right pant leg up to her knee, and in the soft candlelight, her fair calves shone. Unfortunately, a bruise below her knee, painted with white paint and still lingering, marred her beauty.

"You seem distracted. Why did Professor Blaine keep you here?"

"Oh, actually it's like this—"

Harry muttered something, then took the thing Professor Blaine had given him out of his pocket and began to explain what had happened.

Twenty minutes later, the crowd gradually dispersed. Having heard many jokes and sincerely believing that his decision to withdraw from Professor Blaine's physical education class was wise, Ron walked out of the crowd. He saw Harry and Hermione sitting there whispering to each other, so he jogged over to them.

"When did you get back, Harry?"

Ron had just put his bottom on the sofa when he saw what Hermione was holding, and he immediately jumped up in surprise.

"My God, a gold watch! Where did you get that?!"

"Professor Blaine's gift to Harry--"

Hermione glanced at Ron and said calmly,

“This isn’t a gold watch, Ron. I just used magic to detect it, and its casing isn’t gold—but it is indeed a special metal, and the watch seems to be protected by magic.”

"Oh--"

Upon hearing that it wasn't a gold watch, Ron appeared much more composed. He carefully examined the silver dial adorned with sparkling decorations.

"The gift—but Professor Blaine, oh, I see, it's about that time!"

Ron also remembered that Professor Blaine was 'lacking' a gift for Harry, and he blinked, casting a puzzled look at Harry.

"But why would he give you a watch? I thought he would give you something related to Quidditch."