HP: She married Malfoy after becoming an exchange student.

Harry followed Professor McGonagall like a lost soul, his mind blank, with only the word "expulsion" buzzing in his head.

If the Dursleys knew he had caused such trouble at Hogwarts, they would definitely put him back in the cupboard and lock him up until he was eighteen.

Professor McGonagall strode across the courtyard, past the Quidditch pitch, and straight toward the castle.

The portraits in the corridor peeked out, curiously examining the strange combination. Several older students who were about to go downstairs hurriedly moved aside, pressing against the wall, and no one dared to ask a question.

Harry's heart sank to the bottom. He waited for Professor McGonagall to push open the door to Dumbledore's office, or the dark staircase leading to Filch's office—neither of which would end well.

But she stopped in front of a door with a sign that read "Quidditch Team Storage Room," took out her wand and tapped it lightly; the lock clicked open.

Inside the room, a tall boy was studying a roll of parchment. Hearing the noise, he turned around abruptly. It was Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Professor McGonagall?" Wood looked puzzled, his gaze shifting even more blankly when it fell on Harry. "And this is...?"

“Oliver Wood,” Professor McGonagall’s tone was still stern, but less cold, “I have something to show you.” She turned to Harry, her brow still furrowed, “How did you manage to catch up with that memory orb in mid-air?”

Harry opened his mouth, his throat tightening: "I...I just saw it, and then...I chased after it."

"You saw it? From that distance?" Wood suddenly became excited, rushing to Harry's side, his eyes wide like saucers. "You can lock onto such a small target while flying at high speed?"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, interrupting Wood's questioning. Her gaze lingered on Harry for a moment, a complex look that Harry couldn't decipher—a look of reprimand, scrutiny, and a faint, almost imperceptible sharpness.

"Potter, you violated school rules by flying in a no-fly zone. This is a serious breach of school regulations." Her voice returned to its stern tone. "Gryffindor will be deducted twenty points for this offense."

Harry's heart clenched; he knew he couldn't escape punishment after all.

"However," Professor McGonagall changed the subject, looking at Wood.

"Oliver, we've been looking for a decent Seeker. Freshmen are rare, but you just heard it—this kid can lock onto a Memory Ball from fifty feet and ride a rickety Seven Stars more steadily than most upperclassmen."

Wood's eyes instantly lit up like two burning flames: "You mean...?"

"Starting Monday, at five o'clock in the afternoon, you will come here for training," Professor McGonagall said to Harry, her tone finally softening slightly.

"Don't think that will excuse your violation, Potter. If you're late for practice or drag the team down, I'll personally throw you off the Quidditch pitch and deduct even more points from Gryffindor."

Harry was completely stunned. He opened his mouth, unable to utter a single word for a long time. Wood was already rubbing his hands excitedly, muttering, "The Seeker... finally a Seeker..." as if Harry were some rare treasure.

Professor McGonagall gave Harry one last look, her eyes holding a hint of warning, yet also a barely concealed expectation. "Go," she said, "don't let me down."

Harry remained frozen in place until Professor McGonagall disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Wood patted him on the shoulder, so hard he almost knocked him over: "Welcome to Gryffindor, Potter! You'll be the best Seeker at Hogwarts, I guarantee it!"

Sunlight streamed in through the small window of the storage room, falling on a pile of dusty Quidditch uniforms, the red fabric gleaming warmly in the light.

Harry touched the still-warm memory orb in his pocket and suddenly remembered the glimpse of the hem of Professor McGonagall's robe when she turned around—the Gryffindor lion emblem embroidered on it seemed brighter than usual.

In an instant, Harry thought of Malfoy's furious state earlier that day, and a smile crept onto his lips. "When that Malfoy finds out, he'll be green with envy, hmph."

------------------

During lunchtime, the sweet aroma of pumpkin juice mingled with the steam from roasted potatoes filled the air in the large restaurant.

The Gryffindor students were chattering amongst themselves around Harry about the morning's flying lesson when suddenly, a Grey Wood Owl flapped its wings and swooped down from the dining hall's dome, landing precisely on the table in front of Harry, carrying a long, thin package in its beak.

"It's Professor McGonagall's owl!" Hermione exclaimed, recognizing the bird with small spots on its wings.

Harry untied the silver-green ribbon from the bundle, revealing a smooth oak handle—it was a brand-new Nimbus 2000!

The metal nameplate on the broom handle gleamed coldly, far more exquisite than his old broom.

"Wow! Nimbus 2000!" Ron's eyes widened, and he reached out to touch it but then pulled his hand back. "This is the best broom of the year! Why would Professor McGonagall give you this?"

A murmur of conversation immediately arose from the surrounding area. At the Slytherin table, Draco put down his knife and fork, frowning as he looked over—he knew, of course, the value of the Nimbus 2000; even in his study, he only had a sample one.

Harry went along with it and mentioned joining the Quidditch team, and the Gryffindor long table erupted in a cacophony of noise, as if a firework had been thrown at it.

Ron slammed the bread in his hand onto the plate with a thud, splattering butter all over the table.

"Are you serious, man? Professor McGonagall wants you to be the Seeker?" He jumped up and grabbed Harry's shoulder, his face full of disbelief. "You were complaining to me this morning that you'd never tried Quidditch before!!!"

"I can fly quite steadily now," Harry said, subtly avoiding Ron's "exploding" plate. "Last time I was fighting Malfoy for the Memory Ball, if he hadn't suddenly crashed into me..."

"If Elias hadn't pulled you two apart, you would have been smashed to pieces!" Ron interrupted.

Neville, holding a cup of pumpkin juice, came over and stammered, "Ha, Harry, you'll be amazing!" Ever since Harry helped him retrieve the Memory Orb, Neville had truly considered Harry a good friend, and he was genuinely happy for him.

Hermione pushed up her glasses, bent down to clean the stains Ron had splashed on the book with her wand, and helped analyze the situation, saying, "Quidditch has strict rules, he can't just do whatever he wants..."