HP When Harry is a Genius

"No, Potter!" Hermione Granger yelled, "Mrs Hooch told us not to move, you're going to get us all in trouble!"

Harry smiled at her comfortingly, got on the broomstick and kicked the ground vigorously.

Hermione Granger stamped her foot in exasperation. She waved her arms, trying to reach out and grab Harry, but Harry was already up.

The air whistled through Harry's hair, his robes fluttered behind him, and he was very pleased with the realization that he had a great gift for flying - so easy, so wonderful.

He lifted the broomstick a little higher, making it fly higher.

He heard the screams and gasps of the girls from the ground, and Ron's cry of admiration.

Harry turned the broom sharply, facing Draco in the air.

Draco looked taken aback.

"Here," said Harry, smiling, and he joked threateningly, "or I might knock you off the broom."

"Oh, really?" Draco blinked, and he tossed the glass ball high into the air, then quickly landed on the ground.

Harry saw the glass ball rise into the sky in what seemed to be slow motion, and then began to fall.

Harry leaned forward, pointing his broomstick downward.

In the blink of an eye, he was speeding down in a dive, chasing the memory ball.

The wind howled in his ears, mingling with the screams of the audience below.

Harry reached out and caught the Memeball firmly a foot above the ground.

He straightened the handle of the broom just in time, and then he stood lightly on the grass, clutching the memory ball tightly in his hand.

"Harry Potter!" Professor McGonagall was running towards them.

"In all my years at Hogwarts, I have never seen such a bold student—"

Professor McGonagall was literally speechless in astonishment, her spectacles gleaming with anger.

"—how dare you, you'll break your neck!"

"It's not his fault, Professor." Patil kindly defended Harry.

But Professor McGonagall interrupted her: "Shut up, Miss Patil!"

Ron tried to help Harry divert Professor McGonagall's anger: "It was Malfoy first—"

Professor McGonagall interrupted him with a wave of her hand, and her expression became calm, showing no emotion: "Stop talking, Mr. Weasley."

Harry scratched his black hair shyly, and he explained to Professor McGonagall in a low voice: "It's okay, Professor, I won't get hurt."

Professor McGonagall looked at him quietly, and suddenly said seriously: "Okay, Potter, follow me."

Professor McGonagall strode toward the castle.

Harry glanced back at Draco, who was looking at himself nervously and unconvinced.

Harry made a reassuring face at Draco.

Professor McGonagall strode forward without looking at him, and Harry trotted after him.

Hermione Granger's gloating voice came faintly from behind: "I've warned Potter a long time ago! Mrs. Hodge told us not to use the broom, we should obey the teachers' request!"

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She pushed open the door and stuck her head in.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could Wood come out for a moment?" said Professor McGonagall.

"Wood?" Harry asked a little strangely.

A tall and strong fifth grade boy walked out of Professor Flitwick's classroom with a dazed expression on his face.

"You two, come with me," said Professor McGonagall.

The three strode down the corridor together, Wood eyeing Harry curiously.

"Go in." Professor McGonagall pointed to a classroom and let them in.

Peeves was alone inside, busy writing curse words on the blackboard.

"Get out, Peeves!" Professor McGonagall yelled.

Peeves threw the chalk into the dustbin with a clang, and stormed out of the room cursing.

Professor McGonagall closed the door heavily, turned around, and faced the two boys, a mysterious and pleasant smile suddenly appeared on her face.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I found a Seeker for you!" Professor McGonagall said with a smile.

The expression on Wood's face changed from confusion to joy.

"Are you serious, Professor?" he asked excitedly.

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall dryly. "The boy is a genius! I've never seen anything like it. Is this your first time riding a broomstick, Potter?"

Harry nodded inexplicably.

"He swooped fifty feet and grabbed the thing," Professor McGonagall said to Wood, and she gestured with her hand. "There's not a single bruise, and Charlie Weasley couldn't have done that!"

Wood's expression now is as if all his dreams have become reality all at once.

"Ever seen a Quidditch match, Potter?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"He's just the right size for a Seeker!" said Wood, sizing Harry up in circles. "Light, quick, and we've got to get him a decent broom. Professor, I'll see." A light wheel of 2000 may sweep the Seven Stars."

"I'm going to talk to Professor Dumbledore to see if we can make an exception for the use of first-years. Indeed, we need a better Quidditch team than last year. The Slytherins were beaten badly last time, I didn't dare to meet Snape for a few weeks." Professor McGonagall murmured to himself.

She gave Harry a stern look over her glasses. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I'll change my mind and punish you."

Then, Professor McGonagall suddenly broke into a big smile.

"Your father would be proud of you," she said softly. "He used to be a good Quidditch player."

Harry laughed too, thinking of the short but pleasant time he had lived with his parents in Godric's Hollow.

At that time, Dad took the trouble to tell him eight hundred times every day that he was the Potter's specialty Quidditch Seeker.

On his first birthday, he also received a custom-made children's broom, which was his favorite toy at the time.

He just turned one year old and flew around on a small broom all day long. His parents applauded him non-stop and took many photos of him.

Harry's mood darkened again.

Because he remembered that the little broom was given by his dearest godfather, the enemy who killed his parents, Sirius Black.

Harry said calmly to Professor McGonagall: "I will make an excellent Quidditch Seeker."

At dinner, Harry told Ron what happened after he and Professor McGonagall left the venue.

Ron was about to put a steak and kidney pie in his mouth when he forgot halfway through it.

"Are you kidding, Seeker?!" said Ron, "but it's never possible for a first year - you must be the youngest house player in years!"

"Perhaps." Harry said, picking up the pie with his hand and stuffing it into his mouth, silently adding in his heart: It's been a century.

At this moment, Fred and George Weasley walked into the dining room. They saw Harry at first glance and walked over quickly.

"Fine," George whispered. "Wood told us. We're college, batters."

"Tell you guys we're going to win the Quidditch Cup this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year, our team is going to be great. You must be great. , Harry, Wood was incoherent when he told us about it."

"We've got to go, though, Lee Jordan thinks he's found a new secret passage to the outside of the school," said Fred.

"I guess it's the passage behind the Gregory the Smoker statue, we found it our first week at school. Goodbye," said George.

Fred and George had just left when Draco appeared.

"Having your last meal, Potter. When are you going to ride the train back to the Muggles crying?" Draco said proudly.

"I would be happier if you expressed your concern in a less tactful and subtle way." Harry said with a smile.

Draco's pale face flushed, he grabbed a package and threw it at Harry: "This is medicine for trauma!"

"Thank you, Draco, although I'm not hurt," Harry said happily.

"Sooner or later!" Draco said anxiously.

After saying this, he took Goyle and Crabbe and left here.

"He still has some sense!" Ron stared at Draco's back indignantly.

At breakfast the next day, Harry's Hedwig landed in front of Draco at the Slytherin table.

Draco opened Hedwig's package suspiciously, and out of it was a more crystal clear and beautiful memory ball than Neville's.

And it happily jumped up and down on the Slytherin table, singing out of tune loudly: "La la la, no matter how forgetful you are, or a 90-year-old demented old lady ~ With me, la la la, mom no longer has to worry about you forgetting to eat breakfast!"

Draco hastily grabbed the loudly singing memory ball and tried to hide it.

But it unexpectedly emitted colorful rainbow light inexplicably, and screamed: "What an amnesiac! Hurry up and send him to the hospital!"

Everyone in Slytherin pounded the table frantically and laughed.

Blaise Zabini burst into tears with laughter, he put his arms around Draco's shoulder and shouted exaggeratedly: "Oh~~I never knew that our little prince in Slytherin is an amnesiac~"

Draco looked angrily at Harry at the Gryffindor table, Harry showed him a shy and shy smile, and there seemed to be a little pride and anticipation in the smile.

That expression resembled that of a pug who had just brought the dish back to its owner and then frantically wagged its tail for praise.

At this time, a note floated in front of Draco from the memory ball box, which read:

It's the latest model, much better than Neville's, I guess you'll like it.You don't have to envy his memory ball from now on, Harry.

Draco held his breath in his throat and couldn't get up and down, wanting to get angry but couldn't do it.

"Idiot!" He poked the beef on his dinner plate viciously with a knife and fork, "Who would like this kind of thing!"

The author has something to say: HP7 Lily’s letter to Sirius that Harry found in Black’s old house:

Dear Padfoot:

Thank you, thank you for Harry's birthday present!This is his favorite toy.He looks so happy to be able to fly around on a toy broom at only one year old.I have attached a photo for you to see.You know little broomsticks only get two feet off the ground, but Harry nearly killed the kitten and almost broke an ugly vase that Petunia gave me for Christmas (not complaining).Of course, James thought it was great fun, saying the kid was going to be the next Quidditch star, but we had to put all the decorations away and keep watching him as he flew...