The castle was quiet at night, the corridors bathed in silver moonlight from the high windows. Somewhere far off, the distant creak of shifting timbers echoed like a whisper, and the occasional hoot of an owl filtered in through the stone walls.
Fred and George led the way through the dark hallways, their footsteps light, their eyes scanning for the flicker of Filch's lantern. Behind them came Oliver Wood, carrying a small burlap sack slung over his shoulder like it was filled with treasure. Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell followed close behind.
At the rear of the group was Inosuke, moving with all the subtlety of a marching band.
"Why are we sneaking?" Inosuke muttered loudly. "If someone tries to stop us, we'll just knock them down and keep going."
Fred spun on his heel, hissing, "Because, my boulder-brained friend, if we get caught, that's the end of your Quidditch career before it starts."
Inosuke tilted his head, his boar mask perched atop his head. "Career? Is this some kind of hunting job?"
George smirked. "Sort of. Except instead of hunting animals, you'll be hunting Slytherins."
That seemed to satisfy him.
They slipped into an unused classroom on the fourth floor, its desks shoved to one side, leaving a clear open space. The curtains were drawn tight, and the only light came from a single enchanted lantern on the floor, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls.
Oliver stepped forward, dropping the burlap sack onto a desk. "Alright," he said, his voice firm. "Listen up, because I'm only explaining this once."
He turned to face Inosuke, who was already eyeing the sack like it might contain a wild animal.
"Quidditch," Oliver began, "is the greatest sport in the wizarding world. Two teams, seven players each. The goal? Score more points than your opponents by the time the Golden Snitch is caught."
Inosuke frowned. "Golden… what?"
Katie held up a hand-sized golden ball with delicate wings. It gave a sudden flutter and zipped from her hand, darting toward the ceiling before she caught it again.
Inosuke's eyes widened. "I kill that, right?"
Angelina snorted. "No! The Seeker catches it. That's worth one hundred and fifty points. Ends the game."
"Boring," Inosuke grunted.
Oliver quickly jumped in. "That's not your job. Your job, as a Beater, is to protect your team from Bludgers — enchanted iron balls that try to knock players off their brooms — and to send those same Bludgers hurtling toward the other team."
Fred leaned against a desk, grinning. "Think of it like this: you've got a club, you've got two big angry metal balls flying around, and you're allowed to hit them straight into your enemies."
Inosuke's grin spread slowly. "Now we're talking."
Oliver reached into the sack and pulled out a dark, polished Beater's bat. But this was no ordinary bat — the handle was wrapped in thick dragon-hide leather for grip, the head reinforced with a faintly shimmering metal band. It was longer, heavier, and slightly thicker than regulation.
Inosuke's eyes locked on it immediately.
"This," Oliver said, holding it out with both hands, "is yours. Custom-made. Heavier than a normal bat, so when you hit a Bludger, you don't just redirect it — you launch it."
Inosuke stepped forward, taking it in one hand. He gave it an experimental swing. The air whistled. A desk three feet away rattled from the force.
Fred muttered, "Sweet Merlin…" under his breath.
Oliver smirked. "You'll need to be accurate, not just strong. Bludgers move fast, and you'll be on a broom when you're swinging. Hit it wrong, and you'll send it at your own team."
"I won't miss," Inosuke said simply.
"Right," Oliver replied, clearly pleased with the confidence. "Now, positions. We've got three Chasers — they score goals with the Quaffle, that's the big red ball. One Keeper — defends our hoops. Two Beaters — that'll be you and one other. And the Seeker — catches the Snitch. You focus on keeping the Bludgers away from our team and smashing them into the Slytherins. Make it hurt."
Inosuke tested the bat again, taking a wide stance. "What if I just… hit the Slytherins directly?"
Alicia chuckled. "That's a foul."
Inosuke's grin widened. "Then I'll foul a lot."
Oliver's eyes glinted. "Only if you're subtle about it."
Fred piped up. "Which means 'don't get caught.'"
George added, "Which means 'look innocent' — something you've never managed in your life."
Ignoring them, Oliver moved to the next phase. "Alright, before we put you on a broom, you need to learn to track a Bludger. We'll simulate it tonight. Fred, George — you're on Bludger duty."
The twins exchanged identical devilish smiles, pulling two heavy black spheres from the sack. They were currently still, but the moment George tapped one with his wand, it rattled, then shot into the air, circling the room like a hungry wasp.
Inosuke's eyes lit up. "Finally."
Oliver barked, "Eyes on it! Wait for it to come to you — don't just swing wild—"
Too late. Inosuke lunged, the bat coming down with a sound like a hammer on an anvil. The Bludger shot across the room, slammed into the far wall, and ricocheted back toward the ceiling with a crack.
Fred ducked. "Blimey! He's going to kill someone before the match even starts!"
Oliver, however, was grinning ear to ear. "Perfect. Now let's work on aiming…"
________
The Bludger whirled through the air like a cannonball with a mind of its own, bouncing off the ceiling and walls in a deadly rhythm. It screamed past Katie's ear, zipped between Fred and George, and came screaming back toward Inosuke's head.
Most first-timers would have flinched. Most seasoned players would have ducked.
Inosuke didn't even blink.
With a smooth, almost lazy motion, he let the bat hang loosely at his side. The Bludger came within inches of his face—then his free hand shot up like a striking snake.
WHAM!
There was a sound like a thunderclap as his palm connected with the solid iron sphere. The impact should have shattered his wrist, but instead the Bludger exploded backward, ricocheting into the far wall hard enough to knock a loose stone from the top corner.
It bounced off, came screaming toward the lantern, and before anyone could yell, Inosuke stepped forward, swung the bat in a tight arc, and smacked it mid-flight—sending it straight through the gap between Oliver's head and the wall.
The Keeper froze, his hair still fluttering from the wind the Bludger had generated.
Fred's jaw dropped. "Did he just—?"
George finished for him, "—hit the Bludger with his hand and then bat it midair like it's a snitch-sized target?"
Angelina looked from the dented wall to the grinning boar-headed boy. "That… shouldn't even be possible."
Oliver slowly turned toward Inosuke, his competitive, slightly devious mind already racing. "Do that again."
Inosuke rolled his shoulders like a predator limbering up. "Easy."
Fred tapped the second Bludger with his wand, setting it free. The room instantly became chaos—two Bludgers careening in unpredictable, vicious patterns. Normally, that much metal flying around would be a death sentence indoors.
But Inosuke wasn't "normal."
One came at him from behind—he spun without looking, smacking it across the room with the back of his hand. The other zipped past his knee—he dropped into a squat, batting it away like a baseball.
The sound of each hit echoed like drumbeats, the timing perfect, the aim exact. He wasn't just hitting them—he was controlling where they went, bouncing them off walls in precise trajectories so that they never came within a foot of the Chasers.
Katie's voice was tight with disbelief. "He's… aiming with his hand better than some Beaters do with a bat."
Alicia shook her head. "This is ridiculous. This isn't learning—he's already good."
Fred and George exchanged a look, then identical wicked grins spread across their faces. George muttered, "We've just weaponized a lunatic."
Fred nodded. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
The two Bludgers finally slowed after Oliver called for them to be stunned. They hovered in midair for a moment before dropping heavily to the floor with a double thunk.
Oliver walked right up to Inosuke, studying him like a priceless broom model. "If you can do that on a broom, we're going to slaughter Slytherin. Not beat them. Slaughter them."
Inosuke tilted his head. "So… when do I get to hit the real ones?"
Oliver's grin took on that slightly evil edge. "Soon. Very soon. But first… we get you flying."
Fred patted Inosuke on the back. "And if you can hit Bludgers and ride a broom without falling off, Flint's going to be crying into his pumpkin juice."
George added, "If he's lucky enough to still have teeth after you're done."
Inosuke looked down at the reinforced bat in his hand, flexing his fingers around the grip. His grin was slow, dangerous, and entirely genuine. "I'm going to enjoy this."
Oliver turned to the rest of the team, eyes gleaming. "Tomorrow night. Pitch practice. We make sure our new Beater is ready for war."
No one doubted he would be.
A/N
I've just released a new fanfic titled MHA: The Beast of U.A
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