Chapter 288 Fruitless Flying Practice

On the eve of the exam, the nervous atmosphere in the castle was pervasive.

Harry and the other Gryffindor players had to fit their homework around Quidditch practices every day, forcing them to redirect all their energy away from Acromantulas and towards their studies.

In addition to all of that, there were the endless tactical discussions with Wood.

This year's Quidditch final between Gryffindor and Slytherin was set for the first Saturday after the Easter holidays.

Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant they had to win the match by more than that amount to claim the Cup. It also meant that much of the burden of victory fell on Harry, as catching the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

Every day at the table, Evan could hear Wood constantly telling Harry, "So, you must catch it only if we are more than 50 points ahead. Only when we are more than 50 points ahead, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. Do you understand? You must catch the Snitch only if we are fifty points..."

"I KNOW ALREADY, OLIVER!" shouted Harry. "This is the twenty-third time you've told me!"

"We must be cautious, Slytherin already knows you have a Firebolt and they have surely devised their tactics," Wood shifted the conversation to tactical arrangements, "We will have to score many points in this match and bring down the Slytherin team. You are the key in this match, Harry; we must be fifty points ahead first."

It wasn't just Wood; the whole Gryffindor House was fixated on the upcoming match.

It was exciting enough to contemplate. Gryffindor had not won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley left.

All Gryffindors were hoping to win this match, and none could wait.

This was especially evident considering the many grievances between Gryffindor and Slytherin, between Harry and Malfoy, and what had transpired in the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match, which had already made Harry determined to beat Malfoy in front of the whole school.

They were training day and night, trying to fine-tune the team.

Slytherin, on the contrary, trained much less frequently than Gryffindor, and now they gathered all day with melancholy, casting disapproving glances at Harry and the other players. It seemed they intended to employ other "tactics" to win the match.

Over time, the tension between the two teams and their Houses reached its peak. Harry was particularly struggling with that.

Wood had already instructed that Harry must be accompanied wherever he went, in case the Slytherins attempted to throw him off his game.

Harry was more concerned about the safety of his Firebolt than his own. When he wasn't flying on it, he kept it carefully in his trunk and frequently raced up to the Gryffindor Tower during breaks to check that it was still there.

Like Harry and Hermione, who were very busy, Evan had little time.

In addition to the pressures of the university curriculum and continuing his magical studies in the library, he was also trying to find a way to sneak into the lair of Aragog.

Evan had not made much progress in that regard.

He couldn't enter it directly, and none of Evan's known magics could help him sneak into Aragog's lair under the eyes of hundreds of Acromantulas and silently kill him.

He thought it over and over, and found it more feasible to fly directly towards it.

Evan had to retrieve his Nimbus 2000 from under the bed. Every afternoon, when he didn't have class, he went to the field to practice flying.

Now, the young wizards could often see Gryffindor's Quidditch team practicing high in the air, while Evan alone rode his broom, flying slowly beneath them.

Everyone noted Evan's behavior, wondering what he was up to.

It was known that he had always been the center of attention among the young wizards, especially at this delicate moment as the Quidditch Final was about to begin, and Evan's actions were highly suspicious.

Rumors were spreading that Evan was the secret weapon being prepared by the Gryffindor team. The Slytherins were suspicious, but they didn't dare to harass Evan like they did with Harry and other players. Just like Snape, they were now indifferent to all of Evan's actions.

With much practice, Evan's fear of heights eased a bit.

Although he couldn't fly at Harry's level, he was no longer at his previous level when he couldn't even sit on a broom and fly through the air.

After mastering certain flying skills, Evan became increasingly skeptical about the possibility of using his broom to sneak into Aragog's Lair.

Carrying a broom while battling Acromantulas, just the thought of it, this image seemed a bit humorous.

He wasn't going there to clean the place. He couldn't just fly so nonchalantly, and then ignore everything, flying back on the same broom. The chances of success were indeed very low.

As time went by, Evan still didn't progress much.

The night before the match, he had to stop flight practice and completely give up on such fantasies. In fact, all the usual activities in the Gryffindor Common Room ceased. Even Hermione put aside her books.

"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.

There was a lot of noise. Fred and George Weasley were facing the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever.

Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch pitch in a corner, moving small figures with his wand and murmuring to himself. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at Fred and George's jokes.

Harry and Ron were sitting together, avoiding Hermione and Evan, whispering something to each other, apparently discussing the match the next day.

No one cared about the upcoming exam, nor the Acromantulas and Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, only Evan kept thinking about it from time to time, imagining himself sneaking into the dangerous and gloomy Lair of the Acromantulas.

Every time Evan thought about it, he had the awful feeling that something very big was struggling to come out of his stomach.

"Relax, Evan, don't dwell on the Centaurs and Acromantulas," Hermione closed the book she had in hand. It seemed like she was reading Evan's mind, "You told me earlier not to pressure yourself too much, and the same goes for you. Regarding the Centaurs' requirements, we'll think of solutions together. This isn't just your responsibility."

"I know, it's just that I'm..." Evan started.

"Come on, Harry seems even more nervous than you. We should have comforted him earlier," Hermione walked alongside Evan. "This time really isn't suitable for studying, there's no way to focus."