Hoare chased after the crystal ball at an incredible speed, flying forward with all his focus on the ball.

  When he first got on the broom, he thought it would be a bit painful to ride.

  But it wasn't.

  The broom had something akin to a saddle where he sat.

  The broom Hoare was using was the school's standard model, focused solely on safety, without any acceleration runes.

  He pressed his body low, almost hugging the broomstick, to minimize wiance.

  Hoare pushed the school-issued broom to its limits, but it still wasn't enough.

  He frowned, realizing he needed a professional broom. It ity the Firebolt hadn't been developed yet, and a Nimbus 2000 was too expensive. He o find a way to get someoo give him one.

  In his mental e with the broom, Hoare kept cheering it on, urging it to go just a little faster.

  He watched helplessly as the crystal ball headed straight for the castle's high wall. Time was running out!

  In that critical moment, Hoare felt the broom respond to his anxious mi, releasing a final burst of energy to assist him.

  With the ball just a meter away from the wall, Hoare accelerated, sweeping past to intercept the crystal ball, successfully stopping it from crashing.

  Hoare reached out with his right hand and firmly grasped the crystal ball in his palm.

  What seemed like a long sequeually took less than a minute.

  Hoare's maneuver left everyone on the field and a certain observer in the castle awestruck.

  Hoare straightened up on the broom and slowly desded.

  Everyone on the ground, whether from Gryffindor or Slytherin, couldn't help but cheer for Hoare's impressive feat. It was just too cool!

  Especially the se of snatg the crystal ball—it was more thrilling than any Quidditch match, sihe Golden Snitch wouldn't shatter!

  However, amidst the cheers, Hoare suddenly sehat his e with the broom had been severed.

  It was as if the broom had been forcibly taken over, losing trol.

  What was going on?

  Hoare uzzled. He was still twenty or thirty meters above the ground, with nothing to break his fall. If he fell, it would be worse than Neville's infamous tumble.

  Hoare's mind raced, sidering possibilities. He sed the surroundings, trying to find the person hiding behind this.

  Fortunately, Hoare had perfect 20/20 vision.

  Finally, he spotted a figure hidden behind a Roman n deep in the first-floor corridor.

  The person was mostly cealed, with only a head peeking out—gray hair and bck eyes.

  Those eyes gred at Hoare, muttering something uheir breath.

  Even without the turban, Hoare reized who it was.

  Quirinus Quirrell.

  The body possessed by the Dark Lord.

  Hoare smirked coldly. He had once saved Professor Quirrell's life, yet now the man was repaying him with betrayal.

  The damage the Dark Lord did to Quirrell's body was irreparable, but it wasn't fatal if treated in time.

  But now, it seemed Professor Quirrell didn't care if he lived or died.

  Hoare regretted not sneaking into the infirmary earlier to knock Quirrell out, preventing him from causing trouble.

  Hoare decided that once he got off the broom, he'd make sure Quirrell was unreizable even to Dumbledore.

  The other students on the wn noticed Hoare's predit and were in chaos.

  Some wao find a teacher, while others tried to take to the skies, only to be stopped by their peers.

  The noise was incessant.

  Hoare's head inning. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind, and held onto the broom, attempting tain trol.

  Perhaps Quirrell sensed Hoare's gaze, as the broom, which had been trembling slightly, began to lose trol, shaking violently in all dires.

  Hoare's breakfast was threatening to make a reappearance.

  He gritted his teeth, ging tightly to the broom, l his body, aending a thread of magito the broom.

  He could feel a traagic already maniputing it.

  Hoare increased his output, thankful he had enhanced his magic reserves earlier; otherwise, he might not have been able to outmatch Quirrell.

  Finally!

  Hoare sensed his magic gradually overp Quirrell's, about to recim trol of the broom.

  Suddenly, the broom flipped, leaving Hoare upside down, the world turned on its head.

  "Oh my god!!! William!!!"

  "He's going to fall!!!"

  "Someone save him!"

  "Quick, get a professor!"

  The screams and cries for help were deafening.

  Hoare was entirely focused on the final struggle for trol, uo pay attention to anything else.

  Sweat dripped down his hair, and in his ied position, his limbs were useless.

  But Hoare couldn't afford to rex, his muscles tense and ag.

  He realized the differeween a broom and a horse.

  A broom couldn't be tamed by physical effort alo was a magical tool requiring both physical and magical trol.

  Clearly, Hoare's mastery of magic was advanced, his C-level talent providing a strong e with the broom.

  But physically, his current position made it difficult to exert force.

  Hoare tinually adjusted his posture, trying to press his body closer to the broom, using his waist, back, thighs, and calves to forcibly trol the broom's speed and altitude.

  When the shaking finally subsided, Hoare's waist exploded with power, spinning him bato the broom.

  This show of strength successfully expelled Quirrell's magi the broom.

  Feeling the broom stabilize, Hoare let out a long breath.

  Then he trolled the broom, flying steadily and slowly back to the ground.

  The crowd erupted into cheers.

  "Henry! Henry! Henry!"

  "That was amazing!"

  "Henry is ours!"

  When Hoare's feet touched the ground, everyone surrounded him.

  Faces were lit with excitement.

  Hoare felt like a superstar, shaking hands with everyone, some even giving him enthusiastic hugs.

  To be ho, it was a bit embarrassing and awkward.

  Hoare braced himself to accept everyone's praise, feeling a bit bashful from all the pliments.

  "Henry William!"

  A stern male voiterrupted the cheers.

  Everyone saw a giant bat fpping its wings approag from afar.

  Both Gryffindors and Slytherins shivered, bowed their heads, areated a few steps, leaving Hoare alo the front.

  Hoare held the crystal ball in one hand and leaned on the broom with the other, looking slightly bewildered as the dark figure of Srode toward him.

  Professonagall followed behind.

  "Henry William, e with me. The rest of you, hmph. Follow Professonagall's instrus," Snape said, his face dark as he hahe remaining students over to Magall.

  He turned and walked away briskly, not g if Hoare could keep up.

  Hoare was still in a daze, unsure why Snape wanted him, but he saw the words "take care" in the eyes of his cssmates.

  Hoare hahe crystal ball to Professonagall and hurried to catch up, realiziill had the broom. He ran back to pce it on the wn.

  This bad-forth left a siderable distaween him and Snape.

  Hoare rushed to catch up, expeg So be far ahead, but was surprised to find Snape waiting for him.

  Sood in the shadows of the corridor, almost blending into Hogwarts.

  Hoare noticed Snape's gaze fixed on him.

  It felt like he was being scrutinized.

  0Niffler0