Chapter 149 We are in the wrong, but we can't let the court
"I booked the Pitch for today first thing this morning," Woodsaid sternly to Marcus Flint. "I booked it, and our team got up extra early for this."
"I know you're upset, but I have a special permit," Flint said calmly, then pulled a note from his pocket.
Wood opened the note and read aloud: "I, Professor Severus Snape, hereby grant the Slytherin team permission to use the Pitch today for training... a new Seeker."
"A new Seeker, who?"
The six team members automatically spread out, and Draco Malfoy emerged from behind them, a sneering smile still on his face.
"Malfoy?" Harry looked at him, his eyes filled with surprise.
"Didn't expect that, did you!" Draco triumphantly brandished the broom in his hand. "Your brooms are outdated."
It was then that the Gryffindor team noticed the magicbrooms in the Slytherin team's hands: brand new, sleek, high-end, especially the golden Nimbus 2001 lettering on the broom's tail, which was particularly dazzling in the sunlight.
"Where did these Nimbus come from?"
Ron, who had just arrived, was dumbfounded with surprise. His family usually used old Nimbus series, or even older Cleansweep series.
It was only when Harry came over during the holidays that they had a chance to experience the Nimbus 2000, but even that was taking turns.
And now, seven of the latest Nimbus series appeared before his eyes, and in the hands of the Slytherin team, it was hard not to make him envious, jealous, and hateful.
"Draco's father sent them," Flint explained. "Compared to these Nimbus, your brooms are indeed outdated."
The Gryffindor team was speechless for a moment, unable to find a reason to retort.
"Pretty good, isn't it, Weasley?" Draco said. "My dad can get the best equipment."
Just then, Hermione pulled Aaron over, and hearing this, she immediately couldn't help but say, "Gryffindor team members aren't chosen by money; it's based on true strength."
Draco's face darkened. Just as he was about to retort, he saw Aaron behind Hermione, and immediately suppressed his anger, sneering, "Who do you think I am? Malfoy wouldn't resort to such petty tricks.
A Slytherin team member graduated last year, so we needed to take in a new member.
I joined temporarily, and these new Nimbus are just a welcoming gift.
As for the strength you mentioned, I don't recall Harry Potter demonstrating it when he joined the Gryffindor team, if catching that Remembrall counts."
Hermione opened her mouth, not knowing what to say. The situation seemed a bit different from what she had imagined.
Draco didn't join the house team through the back door; he joined as a reserve, which was perfectly fine.
"At least Gryffindor doesn't rely on equipment to intimidate others," Ron said unhappily.
"You wish you could," Draco scoffed. "The problem is, do you have the ability?"
"Perhaps I can offer a suggestion to help you get some gold; sell your old brooms. I think some museums might pay a high price."
As soon as he finished speaking, the Slytherin side burst into mocking laughter.
"You..." Ron, furious, pulled out his patched wand and pointed it at Draco, saying, "You'll pay for this."
"Eat slugs!"
Ron chanted the spell, and a green light appeared at the tip of his wand, but it shot backward.
Boom!
As the green light was about to hit Ron, a white spell shot from the side, shattering the curse, but the impact of the explosion also pushed Ron back several steps.
"You shouldn't use such disgusting spells; they're too gross," Aaron put away his wand, then looked at Ron, whose right hand was trembling slightly, and said, "You're welcome."
"Also, a reminder: if you don't change your wand, try not to use it, otherwise, you might accidentally injure yourself."
Ron nodded blankly. He hadn't realized his wand was so broken.
He could understand it working sometimes and not others; he could always try a few more times.
The spell's effect not being so good was also harmless, after all, this wand was just like that.
But for the spell to rebound, he truly couldn't accept it. This was no longer a question of whether it could be used, but whether he could bear the backlash if he did.
"Aaron, you shouldn't have interfered," Draco said with some regret. "I wanted to see what it would be like for Weasley to be hit by his own spell."
"Don't be silly. You might not be disgusted, but I am!" Aaronsaid, exasperated, then looked at Flint pleasantly, "Captain Marcus, can you tell me what's going on?"
When Flint saw Aaron, his arrogant demeanor immediately subsided a bit.
He wouldn't dare treat Aaron as an ordinary second-Classstudent, because when he was in his first Class, he had achieved the impressive feat of taking on seven opponents alone. One could say the entire Slytherin team had been defeated by him.
"We need to use the Quidditch Pitch, and coincidentally, Gryffindor seems to have the same idea."
"We booked the Pitch," Wood said, not to be outdone. "And we were here first."
"And several hours early," George interjected.
Fred also added, "We didn't even have time to eat breakfast."
"I have a special permit," Flint held up Snape's note. "I don't think Oliver would disregard Professor Snape's special permit, would he!"
Wood clenched his fists, his bones cracking, clearly having reached his limit of endurance.
Aaron understood this perfectly, after all, Flint's tone was particularly irritating, not like he was there to discuss, but more like he was there to show off.
"So what?" Wood sneered. "Today is Gryffindor's booked time. This was agreed upon by the four Deans, and you agreed to it then. But for you to come now, isn't that clearly going back on your word?
We will not give up the Pitch today. Even if it goes to Dumbledore, we are in the right."
The Gryffindor team members also perked up, standing resolutely behind their Captain, as Wood's assertiveness was rare, and this time they were indeed in the right.
Flint was unconcerned, once again weighing the note in his hand. "I have a special permit."
"Wait, is that so?" Aaron asked, looking at Flint with some displeasure. He had initially thought it was a misunderstanding, but now it seemed to be premeditated.
Flint froze for a moment, then hesitated to explain, "The date on this permit is today."
"That still doesn't mean you can steal our training time!"
"This is Professor Snape's instruction; Slytherin needs to train a new Seeker."
"Someone, go find Professor McGonagall and explain the situation, and get a permit," Wood said. "We're not without a Dean backing us."
"Wood, be precise with your words," Fred said meaningfully. "I must remind you, Professor McGonagall is the Deputy Principal."
"I'll go find Professor McGonagall right away!" George said excitedly.
"Wait," Wood stopped him and said, "Not you, I meant him."
Ron awkwardly pointed to himself, "Me? Why me?"
"It's seven against seven now. If George leaves, it'll be six against seven, and we'll be at a disadvantage in a fight," Wood said seriously. "So, it's up to you, Weasley's younger brother."
"Alright!" Ron took a deep breath. "Hermione, let's go."
"Just a moment," Wood said again. "Granger can't leave yet."
"Why not?" Ron asked, puzzled.
Wood glanced at Aaron and Hermione standing nearby, and said with difficulty, "The situation on the field could turn into eight against eight at any moment."
Ron:... "What do you mean? Are you saying I'm not as good as Hermione?"
"Hahaha... Weasley, I suddenly realized you've gotten smarter," Draco teased. "It's not easy to realize that!"
"You..." Ron glared at him indignantly, then inadvertently spotted Colin not far away, and his mouth immediately curled into a smile. "Gryffindor isn't without outside help; we still have an advantage."
Hearing this, not just Draco, but the rest of the Slytherinteam burst into laughter.
"Weasley, I take back what I just said," Draco stated. "You don't think the two of you combined could beat Aaron, do you?
Oh, and your wand is also a problem. Are you sure it won't hold Granger back?"
"Enough," Aaron glared fiercely at Draco. "Don't stir up trouble now."
Draco shrugged, then awkwardly closed his mouth. He still had to give Aaron face.
"I generally understand the situation; Slytherin is in the wrong."
As his words fell, the atmosphere on the scene seemed to freeze. No one had expected him to say that.
Marcus froze for a moment, then frowned, "Don't forget your identity; you're a Slytherin."
"Slytherin also has to be reasonable!" Aaron said, exasperated. "I don't think Professor Snape knew that Gryffindor had booked the Pitch today!
That special permit is only to ask irrelevant personnel on the Pitch to make way for the Slytherin team, not to let you seize Gryffindor's right to use the Pitch."
Marcus frowned, saying nothing, only looking at Aaron with an annoyed expression.
"Don't look at me like that. If you're not convinced, we can duel one-on-one, and you can choose the method.
magic is fine, close combat is fine, or Quidditch is fine too, even though I haven't practiced for a year, I still have some confidence."
Hearing this, Marcus reluctantly turned his face away. He wouldn't dare duel this ruthless person, because even if he won, he would definitely not have an easy time.
"Slytherin still has reasonable people," Wood nodded in satisfaction, then provocatively looked at the Slytherin team. "Can you leave now?"
"I'm afraid not," Aaron gave Wood an apologetic look and said seriously, "I'm very sorry, but the Quidditch Pitch still cannot be given to you today."