A New Beginning (Discontinued)

Chapter 8 ~Many adventures to come

(Harry's p.o.v)

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that Nick and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired, but surprisingly cheerful. Indeed they got themselves detention with Snape but it didn't seem to bother them strangely.
"What are they all happy about." Said Draco, looking at them in mere disgust.
I shrugged, not knowing the answer to the mystery question.
All the owls flooded in the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large owls. I was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was surprised when the owls dropped it right in front of me, knocking my bacon from my plate on the floor. They hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the package.
I ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

DO NOT OPEN PARCEL AT THE TABLE.
It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, I don't want those imbeciles from the other houses knowing or they'll want one. Marcus Flint will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Severus Snape

I definitely couldn't hide my excitement as I happily hand the note to Draco to read.
"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Draco said excitedly. "Those brooms are the best in the league, Harry."
They both left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs blocked by Weasley and Granger. Nick seized the package from me and felt it.
"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to me with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time,Harry, first years sent allowed to have brooms."
Draco couldn't resist to have a opportunity to sass back to him.
"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's the Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you have at home, Potter, a Comer Two Sixty?" Draco smirked. "Comets looks flashy, but they're not the best, like the Nimbus Two Thousand."
Before Weasley could answer, Professor Snape appeared beside us.
"No arguing, I hope, boys?" he drawled.
"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Nick said quickly.
"Yes, yes, that's right," Drawled Severus, Smirking. "Mr. Potter is playing for our house, he's an amazing seeker, the best I've ever seen. And what model is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," I said, fighting the urge to not smirk or laugh at the horrored look on Nick's face. "And it's really thanks to Nick here that I've got it," I added.
Me and Draco headed upstairs, Hiding in our laughter at Nick's obvious rage and confusion.
"Well, it's true," I said laughing as we reached the dungeons, "If we hadn't stolen longbottom's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team......"
"True, it was so worth it to their faces." Draco retorted laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~(Time skip by Draco's fabulous hair)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Too eager to fly again to wait for Flint, I mounted my broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling -- I swooped in and out of the goals posts and then sped up and down the field.
"Hey, Potter, come down!"
Marcus Flint had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. I landed next to him
"Very nice," Said Flint, his eyes glinting. "I see what Snape meant. . . . you really are a natural. I'm going to be teaching you the rules this week."
He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.
"Right," said Flint. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," I repeated, as Flint took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Flint. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," I recited. "So -- that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Flint curiously. "Never mind," I said quickly.

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," I said, determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" I pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Flint. "Take this."

He handed me a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Flint said. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed me two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. I noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Flint warned. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at my face. I swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air -- it zoomed around our heads and then shot at Flint, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" he panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team -- it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So -- think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," I reeled off.

"Very good," said Flint.

"Er -- have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" I asked, hoping he sounded offhand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the. . .

Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers unless they crack my head open."

Flint reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

"This," said Flint, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages -- I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep. "Well, that's it -- any questions?"

I shook my head. I understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Flint, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, we were up in the air, Flint throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for me to catch.

I didn't miss a single one, and Flint was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Flint happily as we trudged back up to the castle. I walked to my dorm room to see Draco tucked in his bed quietly snoring. I got dressed myself and retired to bed, knowing more adventures will come.

DONE!!
Hope y'all enjoy the chapter
Have a good day
Peace ✌🏻
~Savvy
Total word count is 1455