HP When Harry is a Genius

On this day, as the owls flocked into the Great Dining Room as usual, everyone's attention was drawn to the slender parcel carried by six long-eared owls.

Harry was as curious as anyone about what was in this package, but he had a vague sense of anticipation.

Sure enough, several owls circled down and landed in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor.

Just as they flew away with flapping wings, another owl brought a letter and threw it on top of the package.

Harry tore open the letter first, only to see that it read:

"Don't open the package on the table.

It contains your new broomstick, the Nimbus 2000, and I don't want everyone to know you have a new broom, lest they all want it.

Oliver Wood will be waiting for you at the Quidditch pitch tonight at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Professor Minerva McGonagall. "

Ron leaned over curiously.

Harry handed him the letter, not hiding his delight.

"Nimbus 2000! The coolest broom!" Ron exclaimed enviously, "I've never even touched it."

Harry and Ron hurried out of the hall, trying to find a quiet place to unpack and get out their broomsticks before the first period.

However, as they passed through the hall, they found that the way upstairs was blocked by Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco snatched the package out of Harry's hand and touched it.

"It's a broomstick," he said, throwing the package back at Harry with a look of mixed envy on his face. "You're going to get punished, Harry, first years aren't allowed to play with that."

Ron couldn't help it anymore. "It's no ordinary broomstick," he said. "It's the Nimbus 2000. Harry is on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Dumbledore himself agreed!"

"Really, Harry?" Draco's eyes lit up, and he said in surprise, "You made the Quidditch team?"

Harry nodded: "Yes, Draco, don't tell anyone for now, Professor McGonagall asked me to keep it a secret."

The corner of Draco's mouth turned up, and he said in a drawn-out tone, "Unless you promise to lend it to me when you're not practicing!"

"Of course." Harry smiled.

Ron said angrily from the side: "This is also called secrecy? You are always too kind to him!"

Harry patted him on the shoulder reassuringly: "Okay Ron, I'll be the first to tell you. And, when you fly well like Draco, I'll lend it to you too. "

Ron stared at Harry desperately: "You mean what you say?"

Harry nodded vigorously: "Keep your word!"

"Okay, just wait, I won't lose to Malfoy!" Ron clenched his fists excitedly.

Draco glanced at Ron with contempt, he raised his chin proudly, and said disdainfully, "Hey, it's up to you?"

Then he proudly took Goyle and Crabbe away.

Ron glared at Draco's back, and he shook his fist vigorously at the air.

"Harry, you are the only Gryffindor who can stand him!" the red-haired boy said through gritted teeth.

"So Potter, you think this is a reward for breaking the school rules?!" A dissonant angry voice came from behind them.

Hermione Granger came thumping upstairs, staring disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"I thought you stopped talking to us, Granger," said Harry, shrugging.

"Yeah, better not talk about it just yet," said Ron, rolling his eyes at Hermione Granger, "it makes us feel very comfortable."

Hermione Granger strode away, her nose held high, as if she disdained their company.

That day, Harry lost his patience with the first-year content taught by the professors that he had already mastered, and his thoughts couldn't stop flying to the dormitory-his new broomstick was lying under his bed.

From time to time he thought of the Quidditch pitch where he was going to practice tonight, which was a place full of attraction for all first-year students.

At dinner, Harry swallowed the food in threes and fives, and then quickly ran up the stairs with Ron, finally able to open his Nimbus 2000!

"Whoa!" exclaimed Ron as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's sheets.

This broomstick is simply too much to hold.The lines are beautiful and shiny, the handle is made of mahogany, and the long tail is tied with neat and straight branches. The words "Nimbus 2000" are printed golden on the top of the broomstick.

Seven o'clock was getting closer, and Harry left the castle and walked towards the Quidditch pitch in the twilight.

Hundreds of bats are placed high in the surrounding stands so that the audience can see the situation on the court.At each end of the court were three gold poles with rings on top.

They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks that Muggle children used to blow soap bubbles, only they were each fifty feet tall.

Harry got on his broomstick and kicked his feet off the ground, what a wonderful feeling!

He darts between the goalposts and flies up and down the pitch.He only needs to touch it lightly, and the Nimbus 2000 will turn in the direction he needs.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Here came Oliver Wood, with a large wooden crate under his arm.

Harry landed next to him and listened to him explain the rules and precautions of the Quidditch game.

Wood opened the box, and inside were four balls of different sizes.

One was bright red and the size of a football; two were black and a little smaller than the red one; the last was very small, about the size of a large walnut.It is golden and has small silver wings.

These, Wood told Harry, were the Quaffle, the Bludger, and the Snitch.

After explaining what the Quaffle and the Bludger were for, he asked Harry, "—you understand that, don't you?"

"Three Chasers trying to score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guarding the goalposts; the Bassman keeping the Bludger from hitting his own players," said Harry in a breath.

"Fine!" said Wood. "Any questions?"

"Um, has the Bludger ever killed anyone?" Harry asked.

"Never at Hogwarts. One or two got a broken jaw, that's all.

Don't worry, the Weasley twins are our team's batsmen, they will protect us from Bludgers and hit them to opposing players.

The Weasley brothers were more than adequate with the Bludgers, they were like two Bludgers themselves, to be honest.

I'm the goalkeeper for our team and you'll be the Seeker. said Wood.

He reached into the crate again and took out the Snitch, its little silver wings flapping.

Wood explained to Harry: "The Snitch is the most important of all the balls. You can't catch it, it flies like lightning and you can't see it.

You have to go back and forth between the Chaser, the Batter, the Bludger and the Quaffle to catch it before the opposing Seeker.

If either team's Seeker catches the Snitch, that team earns an extra 150 points!

A Quidditch game isn't over until the Snitch is caught, so sometimes a game can go on for days - I think the highest record was probably three months - and they have to bring in substitutes to put the players on. Let's switch off and sleep for a while.

Okay, that's it, any more questions? "

Harry shook his head, he knew what he needed to do.

He held the Snitch in his hands, feeling a natural liking for the little golden rascal in his heart, and he couldn't wait to catch it right away in the game.

Harry is busy every day now.

In addition to taking those first-year courses he had already learned, he also had to complete a lot of boring homework - Hogwarts did not allow skipping grades, and did not allow exemptions.

And also practice Quidditch three nights a week.

All the rest of the time, Harry spent himself in the library, or practicing spells and potions in the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor—a room he knew from Voldemort's memory, and which he had dug out as Voldemort's The crown of Raquellaw, one of the Horcruxes.

But Harry didn't know what to do with it for a while, tell Dumbledore?

Oh no, how should Harry explain all this?

So this magical crown still lies quietly in the Room of Requirement.

However, Harry changed the key to the Room of Requirement, which contained Raquellaw's crown: "I need a place full of Muggle household garbage, the kind that won't spoil."

Harry thought, even if Voldemort or other Death Eaters come here again, they probably won't find this room again, right?

When Harry realized that he had been at Hogwarts for two full months, he once again lamented how time flies.

When I was studying Muggle knowledge desperately in the Muggle world and practicing spells secretly, I was not as busy and exhausted as I am now.

From the moment Snape took him into Diagon Alley, or from the moment he overcame the ghost in the scar on his forehead at the age of seven, Harry was clearly aware of how bad his situation was-a murderer His parents and his perverted enemy, who almost killed him, are secretly watching him, ready to rush up and tear him to pieces at any moment.

As for Dumbledore, Harry didn't trust him. He always thought that the white-bearded old man who liked to eat sweets all day long just wanted to train him to be a tool that could die generously at any time.

Harry was afraid of being betrayed, he never trusted only himself.

Although he has read many psychological books in the Muggle world, he knows that this is an unhealthy state of mind, and he also tries hard to make himself trust others.

But in the end, he still couldn't fully trust others, let alone trust himself in a resourceful and resourceful old wizard who was over a hundred years old.

So Harry can only desperately absorb knowledge, practice spells and potions desperately, and do everything possible to make himself stronger and stronger.

Otherwise, God knows how thrilling and precarious his future will be.