The first round of tryouts began, and just as Wyzett had predicted, it was a breeze.
Hovering, weaving, even flying upside down—every maneuver came naturally to him.
When he landed, Arsenal greeted him with a broad grin. "I've never seen a first-year handle a Shooting Star that well!"
"This is the most promising year Ravenclaw's had in ages!" He was practically buzzing with excitement. "Have you thought about which position you want to play?"
A thought flashed through Wyzett's mind—thanks to the new ability he'd picked up in the library, there was one spot he'd be perfect for. "Could I be a Chaser?"
"Absolutely!" Arsenal laughed. "No matter what, you're going to be our Chaser!"
As captain, Arsenal dreamed of winning the Cup. But in recent years, the team had lost so much talent that Ravenclaw had sunk to a perpetual fourth place.
With only four teams in the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup, fourth was just a nicer way of saying "last."
Ravenclaw prided itself on the colors of the sky and the eagle, yet on the pitch, they were always at the bottom—a sore spot for everyone.
But with Wyzett now in the mix, graduation-bound Arsenal could finally see a glimmer of hope.
Unable to contain his excitement, Arsenal sought out Roger. "Any luck finding a decent Chaser?"
"Jeremy Stretton," Roger replied, pulling over a third-year. "Good reflexes, decent aim—with training, he'll be ready for matches!"
"But we need two Chasers, and the options are slim. We'll have to comb through the list again, just to fill out the team."
"Then let me introduce Wyzett!" Arsenal's voice rose with pride. "Professor Flitwick's own recommendation—a genius! His flying skills are flawless!"
"Really?" Roger looked surprised. "Wyzett… I think I remember him—isn't he a first-year?"
Arsenal looked as if he'd just hit the jackpot. "I already put him through the first round. He even pulled off an inverted dive—his balance and speed are unmatched!"
Roger's eyes lit up. "Then I'll add his name to the roster right now!"
Arsenal nodded. "Bring out the Quaffle and Bludgers. Let's get everyone used to each other—quick training session."
Mounting their match-quality broomsticks, Wyzett and the others soared into the air.
Arsenal took up position by the goalposts. "Jeremy and Duncan, your job is to try and steal the Quaffle from Wyzett."
"Cho, you and Jason team up with Roger—hit the Bludgers at Wyzett."
Cho Chang frowned, raising her hand. "Excuse me… why is Wyzett the target for everything?"
"Because I trust him, of course," Arsenal replied with a confident smile. "We'll be building our tactics around him, so everyone needs to get used to it now—no extra explanations needed at next week's real practice."
"The Bludgers are the biggest threat on the field. This drill is as much a test for you as it is for him—let's see where everyone's weak spots are. I'll set your training based on what I see today."
Once everyone was ready, they spread out—keeping at least ten meters from Wyzett, who hovered at the center.
Roger cracked open the box of Bludgers. With a deafening whoosh, the iron balls shot into the sky, arcing and whistling as they homed in on the players.
Arsenal tossed out the Quaffle. "Wyzett! Catch!"
Suspended in the starting area, Wyzett snatched the Quaffle and rocketed forward like an arrow.
Roger zipped through the air, intercepting a Bludger and smashing it away with his bat.
The Bludger tore through the sky with a thunderous crack, tracing a black arc before hurtling straight at Wyzett—no more than two meters away.
Cho Chang gripped her broomstick tightly, nerves written all over her face.
The new players were all wide-eyed—they hadn't expected Roger to go all out, showing no mercy whatsoever.
"Maybe I'm being too harsh…" Roger muttered, already scanning for the other Bludger.
Up in the stands, Professor Flitwick gripped his wand, ready to intervene if Wyzett so much as slipped.
Beside him, Professor McGonagall adjusted her glasses, fingers clamped tight around the frames, eyes locked on Wyzett overhead.
Wood's eyes narrowed, fists clenched. "That's close range! Most people wouldn't even have time to react. And Roger's a Chaser—how can he hit a Bludger that hard?"
Arsenal held his breath, eyes glued to the Bludger.
But Wyzett had already braced himself, the Bludger's whistle ringing in his ears.
When it appeared before him, he didn't panic—instead, a surge of exhilaration spurred him to accelerate.
The team's match broomsticks were a dream—faster and steadier than any Shooting Star.
He didn't slow down. Leaning low, he tucked the Quaffle under his arm, chest pressed to the handle, and slipped past the Bludger with breathtaking precision.
His speed was astonishing—a swift darting across the sky, leaving only a blur behind.
From full tilt to sudden stillness, Wyzett was suddenly in front of Arsenal—less than three meters away.
Ancient Magic: Projectile Mastery.
He hurled the Quaffle with all his might, ancient magic surging through his arm. The Quaffle sang through the air with a piercing whistle.
Arsenal instinctively reached to catch it, but the Quaffle streaked past him in a flash of crimson, straight through the hoop.
Barely thirty seconds had passed, and Wyzett had already scored—a feat that left most of the team stunned.
Cho Chang broke into a radiant smile, shouting, "Wyzett scores ten points!"
"Professor McGonagall, I can't thank you enough," Professor Flitwick beamed. "I swear I'll help you snatch that trophy from Professor Snape!"
"It's a bit early for that—our Potter isn't half bad either," Professor McGonagall managed a wry smile. "Just wait for the match… as long as we get the Cup, I'm happy!"
Wood stared at his clipboard, momentarily at a loss for words.
When speed defied imagination, tactics had to break the mold.
Finally, he scribbled with a bitter smile: "Thank Merlin Wyzett isn't a Seeker—otherwise, who knows how fast he'd end a match."
Roger swooped over to the goalposts, grinning as he complained, "Arsenal, don't go easy on us! I gave it my all and you didn't even try to stop me!"
"At that range, there's no way to react!" Arsenal replied with a rueful laugh. "Let's go another five minutes! The rest of you, step up—don't leave Roger to do all the work!"
The session turned into a one-man show for Wyzett.
They didn't get a good read on everyone's weaknesses, but as Arsenal said, there was no doubt left in anyone's mind.
If things ever got desperate, they knew what to do—just trust Wyzett when the match began.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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