Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 415 Trust a Woman's Intuition

“I have a feeling there will be a lot of people this time,” Ron said to Harry, shoveling beans through his mouth. “You just wait and see, Harry. I bet a lot of people will be involved in the Quidditch selections—all because of you.”

“Don’t joke around,” Harry said, waving his hand.

“I’m not kidding.” Ron analyzed methodically, “You see, everyone knows you’re a nice guy—while the previous captains, whether it was Wood or Angelina, were not easygoing people and had strict requirements for joining the team… But you, my brother, everyone has always thought of you as a nice guy, the kind who doesn’t have a temper.”

Anne, who was sitting on the other side of Harry, coughed and almost coughed her breakfast up her nose.

Harry?

No temper?

How did you connect this person with this adjective?

If Harry didn't have a temper, the goblins might be far more powerful than they are now.

But she didn't intend to refute it. Since Harry hadn't said a word against it, she was too lazy to stand up and say anything.

Just as Ron had predicted, many students did participate in the selection competition.

Half of the students from Gryffindor, from first to seventh year, came.

The first-grade students nervously clutched a few tattered old brooms they had picked out from the school warehouse, while the seventh-grade students stood out tall and imposing, their presence rather intimidating.

Among the seventh-year students was a tall guy with thick, coarse hair; Harry recognized him immediately as the boy from the Hogwarts Express.

Hey, isn't this Ron's rival?

“We met last year. I participated in the Quidditch selection tournament, but I didn’t make it,” Cormac said confidently as he stepped out of the crowd to shake hands with Harry. “Cormac McCraghan, the goalkeeper.”

“Hello,” Harry said, shaking his hand.

He then looked at the first-year students and said to them, "Hey, you little first-years—remember what Headmaster Dumbledore said? He doesn't allow first-years to join the Quidditch team, you know?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter," they all said in unison.

"Then why did you come?" Harry asked again.

"Because we want to try our luck," they all said in unison again.

have to.

Harry felt that Dumbledore's orders had been wasted; how could so many people disobey orders and be so disorganized and undisciplined?

but in fact……

He really is a kind-hearted person.

Instead of sending the first-year students back, he had them line up.

Since we're already here, we should at least participate, right?

Perhaps recalling his own talent, Harry wondered, what if there were young wizards as gifted as he was? He couldn't possibly become a stumbling block in their path, could he?

So everyone stayed.

Harry arranged for those who weren't participating in the selection process and only intended to observe to sit in the distant stands, so they could watch from afar and not hinder the contestants on this side.

Harry decided to conduct a basic test first. He asked all those who applied to join the team to be divided into groups of ten and fly around the field.

That was a wise decision.

The first group of ten people were all first-year students, and obviously, they had never flown before.

"She's not even as good as Hermione," Ron muttered to Harry.

Hermione didn't hear Ron's mutterings; she was sitting in the stands some distance away.

Only one boy remained in the air for a few seconds, and he was so surprised that he soon crashed into the goalpost.

"He's terrible!" the other students teased, and the boy seemed a little embarrassed.

“If it were me, I wouldn’t participate either,” Neville said, shuddering. “My God, he can’t even fly, yet he dares to participate in the selection competition.”

“That certainly takes courage.” Seamus glanced at Neville and asked Harry, “What if something like what happened to Neville in the first year happens?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “My spell will at least guarantee they won’t lose their lives.”

That's certainly true, though it's also a bit conservative.

“You’re such a kind soul, hopeless,” Ron sighed, shaking his head, showing no concern for himself whatsoever.

At this time last year, he was still worrying about how to win Angelina Johnson's favor and join the Gryffindor Quidditch team. But this year? Ron is full of confidence this year. He believes that the goalkeeper position will definitely be his.

But Cormac McClargan clearly doesn't think so.

The second group consisted of ten girls. Harry had never met such silly girls before. As soon as he blew his whistle, they giggled and laughed so hard they couldn't stand up straight, hugging each other tightly.

When Harry told them to leave the stadium, they left happily and then sat in the stands, blaming each other.

“Women,” Ron said, shaking his head. “They’re always like this. I suspect even if Professor Snape were Quidditch captain, they would still be laughing and jeering like this.”

"Don't say that," Simon said in a low voice. "Are you out of your mind? This is a slide that you shouldn't even mention!"

While they were chatting, the third group crashed into a pile halfway around the field.

Most of the people in the fourth group arrived without brooms. Judging from their appearance, it wasn't that they forgot to bring brooms, but rather that they never intended to bring them at all.

Their purpose was simply to come and watch the spectacle.

It's all about participation.

Harry, with a dark expression, chased them to sit in the stands some distance away.

What are you doing, causing trouble?!
The fifth group... the fifth group is actually all Hufflepuff students.

It's just that Cedric graduated; otherwise, Harry really wanted to give his old friend and Hufflepuff Quidditch captain a good taunt.

Look at you Hufflepuffs, you're all traitors!

Harry irritably chased away the troublesome Hufflepuffs and some Ravenclaws, and then began selecting the Chaser.

Two hours later, after listening to a chorus of complaints and witnessing several outbursts of anger, including one where someone smashed a Comet 260 and another where several teeth were knocked out, Harry finally selected three Chaser players for himself: Katie Bell, who had performed exceptionally well and rejoined the team; a rookie named Demirza Robbins, who was particularly agile at dodging the Chaser; and Ginny Weasley, who flew faster than any of the players and made seventeen shots.

Harry was pleased with the men he had chosen, but his voice was hoarse from constantly yelling at the many complainers, and now he had to deal with the complaints of the rejected batters.

Not only was his voice hoarse, but it would also crack when he spoke a few words. He kept drinking cold water, but it didn't help his voice return to normal.

He was filled with regret, deep, deep regret. If he had known this job would be so difficult, why had he agreed to become Gryffindor's Quidditch captain in the first place?
Annie, sitting not far away, looked over here with a gentle smile.

“I dare say,” Anne said to Hermione, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Harry would rather face dozens of trolls than these classmates.”

"Why?" Hermione asked curiously.

“Because when facing these classmates, all he can do is yell, and they might not even listen to his yelling,” Annie said with a smile.

She didn't say anything more after that.

Then comes the batter.

The girls weren't very interested in the batsman position.

Harry could only choose the best among the worst. His two batters were not as outstanding as Fred and George, but they were still satisfactory: Jimmy Perks, a broad-chested, short third-year student, whose powerful runaway ball gave Ron a bump the size of an egg on the back of his head; and Richie Gutt, who looked frail but had excellent aim.

The two of them are now sitting in the stands with the audience, watching Harry choose their final teammate.

Next up is the goalkeeper.

Ron is different now than he was in previous years; he's very confident now.

His ability matched his confidence, and he crushed Cormac McClargan with an absolutely dominant performance.

"I knew you could do it!"

After Ron's victory, Hermione excitedly leaped up and bumped into Ron's arms.

Ron patted Hermione on the back with his paws, and smiled at McLagan, who seemed to be fuming with anger.

This made McClargan even angrier. He glared at Ron angrily and turned to leave.

“You know what?” Anne asked softly beside Harry, “that McLagan, he likes Hermione.”

"Huh?" Harry stared wide-eyed at Anne.

“Yes.” Anne nodded and said to Harry, “Didn’t you see it? His feelings for Hermione—trust a woman’s intuition.”

Harry thought this was a huge bombshell.

"How did you figure that out?" he asked curiously.

“Intuition,” Anne said, squinting and nodding to herself. “Trust my intuition, Harry. I haven’t been wrong before—”

“Go and get Hermione away,” Harry said alertly. “I need to talk to Ron about this…it’s crucial!”

“Hey,” Anne said, “don’t tell anyone I told you, okay?”

“Yes, I know.” Harry nodded.

When Anne walked over to Hermione and led her away chatting and laughing, Harry pulled Ron to the side.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, puzzled. "You seem to be in a hurry, is something the matter?"

“Of course,” Harry said worriedly. “You know what? Anne told me she could tell that McClagan liked Hermione—”

In order to gain Ron's trust, Harry sold himself to Anne without hesitation.

"What?!" Ron yelled.

"Calm down." Harry turned to look at the classmates whose attention had been drawn by Ron's shout. "Keep your voice down, what if Hermione hears you?"

“No way,” Ron said, scratching his face. “I need to keep Hermione away from him. How can this guy be like this…”

“Alright, Ron, you need to calm down.” Harry patted Ron on the shoulder. “Let me set a time with everyone first, okay? I need to set a time for everyone to train together, don’t you think? After all, we’re a brand new Quidditch team.”

“Fine.” Ron nodded impatiently.

Harry and the others agreed that the first team practice would be next Tuesday, and then they left the Quidditch pitch.

"I'm actually a little hungry."

On the way back to the Great Hall, Harry said, rubbing his stomach.

Ron and Hermione seemed to be angry again; neither of them spoke, and they stood there like statues, saying "123".

"What's wrong with them?" Harry asked Anne curiously.

“Oh, I know,” Ginny suddenly interjected. “My big, fat brother told Hermione to stay away from a boy—ha, who does he think he is, ordering people around?”

“Ginny!” Ron turned around and glared at Ginny.

However, Ginny made a face at him and ran away.

Harry understood Ginny's implication—you two haven't officially started dating, so you really don't have the right to tell her to stay away from McLagan.

In what capacity did you speak to them?
“Teenagers…” Anne shook her head and sighed helplessly, “I’m going to see Sebastian in a bit, do you want to come with me?”

“I’m not going,” Harry said, waving his hand. “I’m afraid Sebastian will lose control of his emotions if he sees me.”

Hearing Harry's words, Anne pressed the back of her hand to her lips and smiled gently.

Of course she knew how much her brother hated Harry, this "Scarhead Veela," and Anne had no doubt that if her brother could be resurrected, the first thing he would do was tear Harry apart.

But despite his words, Sebastian only verbally opposed Harry; in reality, he thought Harry was a reliable person, and at least Anne wouldn't be wronged.

To Harry's surprise, the cold war between Ron and Hermione was still going on.

Hermione's expression grew even colder whenever Ron took out the Half-Blood Prince textbook.

Harry had tried to persuade her, but every time he started, Ron would change the subject, while Hermione would simply turn around and leave.

"Can't we think of a solution?" Harry felt that things couldn't continue like this.

“You’d better not get involved in this,” Ginny said to Harry. “Listen to me, Harry—even though you and my brother are best friends, you certainly don’t know him as well as I do… If you get involved, it will only make things worse. Let him figure it out on his own.”

“But I still feel it’s not good to do nothing,” Harry said hesitantly.

"Then you should find something to do," Ginny said, pursing her lips.

Harry thought that made sense, since it was a matter between the two of them, and he, as their mutual friend, was caught in the middle, like a mouse caught in a bellows—suffering from both sides.

Forget it.

Since we can't control this matter, let's just leave it alone.

As soon as this thought arose, he instantly felt that the whole world had become more spacious.

(End of this chapter)