They began their training the very next morning on Quidditch Grounds.
Black saw Wood and Harry making trial, flying runs in the sky and his eyes narrowed.
He wanted the golden snitch. Not just any golden snitch. There were many to come in the coming years, he knew. He wanted…
… The Golden Snitch — Timeline Artifact!
There was only one way it would happen. Harry Potter must carry out his task as per the original timeline. However, Black also wanted to participate in the Quidditch Games as his My House, My Rules' Growth depended upon it.
That's why he needed to carry out all these elaborate schemes and manipulation, letting Harry become a reserve.
Slytherin must not win the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup, Black thought, remembering the condition. It doesn't matter who contributes how much towards the win, though. Harry, my dearest friend, I am counting on you this Saturday. Hope Darcie will be merciful to me. That golden-haired bitch!
After experiencing the enormous excitement because of the last Total Unsynchronization, that helped Kai and Black combat against their Cognitive Dormancy in the long term, they had decided to let the Unsynchronization continue for now.
Suddenly, Black eyes landed above the Nimbus 2000 in his right hand and his frown became a grin.
"Look at you," he mumbled, caressing the Broomstick, "my precious!"
With a running hop, Black shot through the air, joining the others.
…
Saturday,
By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the pitch.
It was like the Werewolf incident had never taken place; such was the charm of the wizarding game — Quidditch.
In the locker room, Black, Harry, and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes. The Slytherin would be playing in green, of course.
As he saw Harry getting comfortable in his uniform, Black analyzed the Nimbus 2000's Skill — Snitch Seeker!
With his Observation Haki, Ad Infinitum, and Lucky Intuitions, if let run amok, he could catch the Snitch before the Snitch itself knew where it would be.
However, the Primordial Tower was a fascinatingly, disastrous place. Now experienced in the Systems' treacheries, Black didn't find any Skill useless.
Who knew when and how the Skill would come in handy?
Moreover, Named Items were always welcomed to be a part of his arsenal, even if he had to use them just to decorate the walls of his Throne Hall.
"Nervous?" Wood approached Black and asked.
Black smiled. "Aren't you?"
The captain let out a confident, silly grin. "I trust the plan. Victory is as good as Gryffindor's this time."
Then, as if getting a cue, they both looked toward Harry.
The boy with the lightning-shaped mark, wearing glasses, gulped sensing the greedy, hungry gazes.
Wood cleared his throat for silence.
"Okay, men," he said.
"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.
"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."
"The big one," said Fred Weasley.
"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.
"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Black and Harry, "we were on the team last year."
"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it. Trust…"
"… the plan!" the members shouted together.
"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."
When they walked out, the shouts deafened their ears.
Onto the Slytherin's side, they had put up large banners with Darcie punching around tiny werewolves. The beasts bounced against the banners' edges before getting punched again.
There was also a tiny Draco, who kept shouting for help.
It was unknown who had let out the knowledge of her punching her way out of the Werewolves' hoard to reach Draco, but the story had become the most whispered tale in recent days.
For Darcie's fans, it was just another shiny treasure in the already well-lit sky, scattered with stars.
Gryffindors had also done their part, putting up banners.
Their banners depicted a giant, gloved fist landing on a roughly, drawn golden-haired girl, and sending her flying beyond the banners' edges.
Some of them had the girl devoured by a scarlet lion, too.
All in all, the sheer enthusiasm around the two Houses created pressure, making Harry's knees wobble.
"Fighting werewolves was easier," he whispered to Black. "Don't die."
Black replied with uncanny, sarcastic seriousness. "I won't."
Then the Slytherins walked out, with Darcie in the middle of the group.
She was probably the only one who looked normal among them, despite her being taller than most boys of her age.
Surrounded by the likes of Flint, the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, who gave the impression of a bloated werewolf to Harry, Darcie felt small…
Harry shuddered at the deception.
"They are purposely letting her walk in the middle," Black told Harry, eying the enemies.
Then they noticed another thing. A thing that made all Gryffindors exchange worried glances.
Darcie Malfoy, the rumored user of Comet 220, was now holding a brand new Nimbus Two Thousand.
They silently cursed within.
Madam Hood, the referee, whistled. She stood in the middle of the field as the two teams came to stand on either side, her broom in her hand.
"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, eying Black and Darcie. Their little battle in the Hogwarts' sky had already become a legend.
"Mount your brooms, please."
The reserves backed away.
Black clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.
Fifteen brooms rose, high, high into the air. They were off.
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too —"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor."
"She's really flying — dodges a speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"
From high up in the sky, Black heard the Gryffindors' cheers and Slytherins' moans.
He eyed the bug hovering way above him. She wasn't even searching for the Golden Snitch, it seemed. Darcie's eyes were dead on his head, a small smile daring to surface on her lips.
Fuck! Black cursed. Let's start then…
Just to test the Skill, Black poured 200 MP into the Named Item.
The Nimbus Two Thousand snatched the control Black had on it for the briefest moment, dipping its tip toward far east-southeast.
Black saw a golden flash, confirming the Skill's potency.
"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?"
A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.
Black shot toward the golden flash.
Darcie dropped from the sky.
If they continued on this path, they were bound to collide at a speed of over 100 kph.
"And here comes the stars of the day," Lee Jordan said, a faint trembling in his voice. "The Celebrity basher — "
"Jordan!"
"I mean, young Arlen Black is on the Golden Snitch, chased by the 3rd year, flying from the birth, very rich —"
"JORDAN!"
Thud!
To the surprise of all, Black and Darcie collided midair, both almost dropping off their brooms. Yet, somehow, they still kept chasing the Golden Snitch, taking control over the broomsticks.
Darcie narrowed her eyes.
"Here comes the Bludger — " Jordan commented. "Good one Fred, the Weasleys are on it again. And sent it to Darcie. She… — Eh? — She grabbed the Bludger. Merline's Beard! She threw it at Black — Bludger missed — They are going to crash again!"
Black and Darcie spun like black and golden threads of silk, chasing the Snitch.
The speed at which they were flying blurred the very sights.
It happened then.
Out of nowhere, Black made a sharp turn and faced Darcie, who was coming at him with an unmatched speed.
Darcie's eyes widened.
Black grinned.
Boom!
**************
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