Chapter 501 Goalkeeper Selection

Chapter 501 Goalkeeper Selection
The time finally came to Friday, September 9th. This also meant that the first week of school had finally come to an end, and those little wizards who were overwhelmed by the heavy workload of the whole week could finally have a rare moment of respite.

On a September morning, a breeze blew over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, the golden morning light fell on the lawn, and the air was filled with the fresh smell of soil and autumn leaves. The Gryffindor Quidditch team's selection was in full swing, and today's selection focused on the goalkeeper.

Angelina Johnson stood in the middle of the court and announced loudly: "The focus of today's selection is the goalkeeper. We need a reliable enough defense to ensure that our points will not be easily equalized by the opponent."

On the sidelines, several candidates were eager to try, including Ron Weasley and Vicky Frobisher. Ron clenched his old broom tightly, looking nervous, while Vicky seemed quite calm, her palm gently brushing her broom handle, her blue eyes full of concentration.

Wood had left behind a strict set of goalkeeper training standards, so Angelina naturally wouldn't make the assessment too easy. The first round was a basic reaction test, where several regular players took turns throwing quaffles at the goalkeepers to observe their interception abilities.

Ron was the first to play. Fred and George took turns throwing the Quaffle, and Ron dodged and blocked it, but his reaction was obviously a bit slow, and he missed the chance to catch the ball twice. Although he tried hard to adjust, he still seemed to be unable to do it.

It was Vicky's turn. She hovered steadily in front of the goal on her broomstick, with a calm expression on her face. George threw the Quaffle first, at a very fast speed - but Vicky had adjusted her position almost as soon as the Quaffle left her hand and easily blocked it. Then Fred suddenly made a fake move to deceive her, but Vicky was not fooled at all and intercepted the ball accurately.

"The reaction speed is amazing!" Lee Jordan exclaimed excitedly on the sidelines.

To be fair, Ron's skills were not bad, although not as good as his predecessor Wood and slightly worse than Vicky, but he still had room for improvement. However, the flying broom he used was really bad, which made his originally inferior character even more lacking in self-confidence; the combination of the two factors of broom quality and lack of self-confidence greatly affected the display of his strength.

After a short break, Angelina led the players in a real-life simulation, with the attacking players taking turns to dribble the ball into the goal to test the goalkeeper's ability to respond.

Ron tried his best, but he was always a beat slow when facing Angelina's accurate shots. He barely saved a few, but also missed a lot.

In contrast, Vicky's performance impressed everyone. Not only could she accurately predict the trajectory of the ball, but she could also quickly adjust her position, leaving the Quaffle with nowhere to hide.

"She's really strong." Angelina murmured, watching Vicky flip flexibly in the air and easily block George's shot.

After the test, the selection results were almost certain.

Vicky Frobisher is undoubtedly the best performing player. With a little training, it will not be a problem for her to catch up with Wood's level. She may even surpass Wood and become a better goalkeeper.

"Frobisher, you are the best contestant today." Angelina said solemnly, "If you are willing to join, we can guarantee you the best broom, and your daily training time can be slightly adjusted. Gryffindor needs you."

The players around her echoed the sentiment, and George even smiled and patted her on the shoulder: "You are born to be a goalkeeper. It would be a pity to refuse."

Vicky looked at them, a hint of hesitation flashing in her eyes. Of course, she loved Quidditch, and the thrill of rushing high into the air, making desperate saves, and holding victory firmly in her hands. However, she was a little witch who focused on academic performance, and she was a little worried that she would not be able to strike a good balance between her daily studies, Quidditch training, and the activities of the Charms Club.

While she was thinking, Angelina spoke in a serious and firm tone: "Frobisher, your performance is impeccable. If you are willing to join, we will fully support you. But I must point out in advance that our training requirements are very strict. We will arrange training every day. You cannot be absent even if it is only a short practice."

"Every day?" Vicky frowned slightly.

"That's right," Angelina looked at her unwaveringly, "We are not Hufflepuff, nor Ravenclaw. Our goal is to win the cup, not 'do our best'. If you join, you must be mentally prepared and put training first."

Fred also added: "We can ensure that you have the best broom, and even help you negotiate a schedule with Professor McGonagall so that you can balance your studies."

George smiled and patted her shoulder: "Do you know how many people want to get this opportunity?"

Vicky's fingers unconsciously rubbed the broom handle, and she was torn between her conscience and her desires. She knew that if she joined, the team would fully support her and she would even become one of the keys to winning the championship. She was not someone who was afraid of hard training. She even had a hunch that if she devoted herself to Quidditch, she might become one of the best goalkeepers in Hogwarts.

But her time is limited, and the Spellbound Club...

She recalled how Shaylin patiently explained magic in the club, the gentle yet unfathomable Slytherin. The spell club was the only place where she could interact with him. And the Quidditch team took up too much time for daily training, and she couldn't take care of both.

She took a deep breath and gave an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, Angelina, I really like Quidditch, but the Charms Club is more important to me."

The team members were all stunned, as if they didn't expect her to refuse. Angelina reluctantly advised: "You can take care of both sides——"

"I'm afraid not." Vicky shook her head firmly, "You require daily training, and the activities of the Spell Club are also very frequent. I have to make a choice."

Her attitude was extremely firm, and even though Angelina, Fred and George repeatedly asked her to stay, she still did not change her mind.

In the end, amid everyone's disappointed sighs, Ron Wesley got the goalkeeper position.

---------------

At about the same time, in Umbridge's office, Harry had been punished to copy for half an hour. The parchment was covered with bright red blood from the back of his hand, and the back of his hand hurt as if it was on fire.

This is also the reason why Harry was unable to participate in the Quidditch team's goalkeeper selection.

Finally, he finished writing.

He had just put down his pen when Umbridge came towards him, put her stubby, ringed fingers around his arm and whispered, "Let's see if you understand that, shall we?"

As she held him and examined the words carved into his flesh, he felt a burning pain, not in the back of his hand but in the scar on his forehead, and at the same time, a very strange feeling somewhere in his upper abdomen.

Harry wrenched his arm from her grasp and stood up, staring at her. She stared back at him, her wide, puffy mouth stretched out in a smile.

"Yes, it hurts, doesn't it?" she asked softly. Harry didn't answer. His heart was beating loud and fast. Was she talking about his hand, or did she know what he had felt on his forehead?

"Well, I think I have accomplished my purpose, Mr. Potter. You may go."

He picked up his bag and left the room as quickly as possible.

---------------

In a dark underground secret room, the air was filled with a disgusting smell of blood, and mottled dark bloodstains were faintly visible on the stone walls.

Voldemort stood there expressionlessly. The only source of light came from a few candles suspended in the air. They emitted a faint green light, making Voldemort's pale face look even more terrifying.

Behind him stood a man with empty eyes and a dull face - Stan Shunpike. The Knight Bus conductor leaned forward slightly, as stiff and helpless as a puppet, and his eyes that had lost focus showed that he had long lost his consciousness.

The Imperius Curse cast by Voldemort firmly controlled his will, making him the only servant left by Voldemort's side.

A man was lying on the ground, thin and in tattered clothes. His originally round face was now sunken, making his cheekbones stand out. His nose was crooked, as if it had been severely broken, and the corners of his mouth were cracked, oozing dark red blood.

His once bright blue eyes were now cloudy and lifeless, hiding pain and despair. His blond hair was messy and greasy, covered with dirt, and looked like it hadn't been washed for several months. His body was shaking slightly, and he was obviously tortured to the point of collapse.

This man is none other than the long-lost Ludo Bagman.

After he was sent to the goblins by Sherin, he was just beaten up by the goblins and then let go. After all, Sherin had paid off his debt to the goblins, and the goblins didn't want to go too far and incur revenge from the Ministry of Magic.

But Bagman, who regained his freedom, was too ashamed to return to the Ministry of Magic. As a result, one day when he was riding on the Knight Bus, he was ambushed and knocked unconscious by Thornpark, and then sent here, where he was tortured by Voldemort for who knows how many days.

Ludo Bagman, the once glorious British team batsman and the head of the Department of Sports and Physical Education of the Ministry of Magic, is now reduced to this pitiful state. His lips trembled slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but only a faint wheezing sound came out of his throat.

Voldemort stood before him, his expression cold, his scarlet eyes looking down at him as if he were a dead dog.

“Do you finally understand, Bagman?” Voldemort’s voice was low and cold, and every word seemed to carry a piercing chill. “You are nothing but an ant. No matter how long you struggle, you will only prolong your own suffering.”

Ludo raised his head with his last bit of strength, his eyes flashing with humiliation and fear. After countless times of being tortured, he could no longer endure it. He used to be a cowardly speculator who always tried to protect himself with lies and evasion, but Voldemort would not leave him any way out.

He understood that he had no choice.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple rolling up and down, and finally spoke, his voice hoarse like torn parchment rubbing together: "Azkaban... the entrance to Azkaban... its special door key... I know the clue..."

The corners of Voldemort's mouth raised slightly, revealing a cold smile.

"Good," he murmured, "You're finally useful."

Ludo felt a cold hand touching his left arm, and the next second, a piercing pain suddenly hit him!

He wanted to struggle, but was pinned to the ground by an invisible force. His skin seemed to be burned by flames, and the shape of the Dark Mark slowly emerged, deeply engraved into his flesh.

His mouth opened wide, but no sound came out, and only a faint whimper came out of his throat. Sweat and tears mixed together and slid down his dirty cheeks.

When the Dark Mark was fully revealed, Ludo finally realized that he had no way back. He had been an official of the Ministry of Magic and a member of the wizarding community, but now he had become a servant of the Dark Lord and a true Death Eater.

Voldemort loosened his grip, looked down at the trembling Ludo, and smiled softly.

"Welcome to my service, Bagman."

---------------

As night fell that day, the Mianlong Society held its first full-staff meeting of the semester.

For the new Hufflepuff members Urig Cadwallader and Sharpy, this was their first time stepping into this secretive and powerful underground student organization. Behind them stood a group of students wearing Hufflepuff uniforms, their faces full of curiosity and shock.

The atmosphere in the entire venue was solemn and orderly. The glittering lights were projected onto the calm and focused faces, making this organization hidden in Hogwarts even more mysterious.

The new members looked around and found that not only did this place gather elite students from various colleges, but it also had an astonishing number of people, a strict organizational structure with division of labor, and discipline that could not be underestimated. This was far beyond their imagination - they had never realized that under the undercurrent of Hogwarts, there was such an unfathomable force.

Standing in the center, Xie Ling, as the leader of the Sleeping Dragon Society, had a calm and deep look in his eyes and gave a meaningful smile to the new members.

"Welcome to join the big family of Mianlong Society." His voice was neither hurried nor slow, but it carried a weight that could not be ignored. His scarlet snake pupils flashed with a strange light, making it impossible for everyone to take their eyes off him. "From today on, you are one of us."

"Joining the Sleeping Dragon Society is not only an honor, but also a great and sacred responsibility. You must abide by the rules of the Sleeping Dragon Society..."

With the official joining of this group of people, the size of the Sleeping Dragon Society expanded again to eighty-seven people. This not only made their influence reach a new level, but also meant that the tentacles of the Sleeping Dragon Society finally successfully penetrated into Hufflepuff.