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“A Keeper who can’t even catch a ball!”

“Look at him, he looks so foolish. Even a chimpanzee could ride that broom better than him.”

“Come on now, Ron,” said Angelina crossly, seemingly surprised by Ron’s performance, “Pay attention. You’re riding the best broom, if you react a bit faster, there’s no reason you can’t catch the Quaffle.”

Ron was already nervous enough. The Starcatcher did not help him improve as expected; instead, it added a lot of pressure that nobody had anticipated.

It would have been hard to say whether Ron’s face or the Quaffle was a deeper scarlet when he returned again to playing height.

Training continued, and on his third attempt, Ron caught the Quaffle, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

He seemed to think the same way himself, and he was glad he caught the Quaffle this time. Perhaps out of relief he passed it on so enthusiastically that it soared straight through Katie’s outstretched hands and hit her hard in the face.

Bang! Even from afar, Evan could hear the impact as he sighed lightly.

“Sorry!” Ron groaned, zooming forward to see whether Katie had been seriously hurt.

“Get back in position, she’s fine!” barked Angelina. “But as you’re passing to a teammate, do try not to knock her off her broom, won’t you? We’ve got Bludgers for that. And don’t aim for the face in the future.”

Katie’s nose was bleeding. Down below, the Slytherins were stamping their feet and jeering, completely forgetting about their own training. Even the Hufflepuff players were looking at Ron jokingly, while Fred and George converged on Katie.

“Here, take this,” Fred told her, handing her something small and purple from out of his pocket. “It’ll clear it up in no time.”

“All right, let’s practice something else,” called Angelina, somewhat exasperated, “Fred, George, go and get your bats and a Bludger; Ron, get up to the goalposts. Harry, Ginny, Ritchie, Demelza, the four of you play the Quaffle. We’re going to aim for Ron’s goal, obviously. Yes, we won’t practice anything else. Today’s main task is to help Ron adapt…”

Ron flew clumsily to the goalposts, and Harry and the twins flew down to get a Bludger, and they landed near Evan.

“Ron’s making a right pig’s ear of things, isn’t he?” muttered George. “It’s quite bad!”

“He’s just nervous,” said Harry. “He was fine when I was practicing with him this morning.”

“He probably hasn’t gotten used to the Starcatcher yet,” said Evan, with only a few records on the clipboard in his hand. He had intended to record the performance and various response data of the Starcatcher, but based on Ron’s performance, he felt that more safety features should be added to the broom. Flying and Quidditch were indeed quite dangerous…

“Yeah, well, I hope he hasn’t peaked too soon,” said Fred gloomily, “and that he adapts quickly.”

They returned to the air. When Angelina blew her whistle, Fred and George let fly the Bludger.

Everyone started moving, passing the Quaffle to each other as they flew toward the goalposts.

The three newcomers Ginny, Ritchie, and Demelza performed very well, giving full play to their own agile advantages.

But too soon, Angelina blew the whistle again, and everyone stopped.

“Stop — stop – STOP!” screamed Angelina. “Ron — you’re not covering your middle post!”

Evan could see clearly that Ron was hovering in front of the left-hand hoop since the first whistle sounded, staring at the incoming players, leaving the other two completely unprotected, as if they didn’t exist, and several balls were easily thrown into them.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot…”

“Forgot?! You have to keep an eye on the Chasers while constantly shifting!” said Angelina. “Either stay in the middle and move when you have to defend a hoop; or circle around all three hoops. You can’t just inexplicably move to the side; that’s how those four goals got past you!”

“Sorry …” Ron repeated, his red face shining like a beacon against the bright blue sky.

“And Katie, can’t you do something about that nosebleed?”

“It’s just getting worse!” said Katie thickly, attempting to stem the flow with her sleeve.

Hearing her words, Fred looked anxious and was checking his pockets.

“Go back to your positions, let’s try again,” said Angelina weakly.

In the stands, the Slytherins were so happy that they set up a chant of “Gryffindor are losers, Gryffindor are losers.” Angelina took a deep breath and pretended not to hear, but there was a certain rigidity about her seat on the broom nevertheless.

Ron returned to the hoop in the middle, but it was futile. Several more balls were easily thrown past him.

This time they had been flying for barely two minutes when Angelina’s whistle sounded.

Everyone rushed over, including Evan, who flew up to check on Katie. She was Chalk-white and covered in blood, and she was teetering on the broom, and she might fall at any time due to excessive blood loss.

Poor girl, she should have known not to try anything the twins gave her so easily…

“I have a blood-stopping potion here!” said Evan, taking out a small bottle of potion and giving it to Katie, which helped reduce the nosebleed slightly.

“She needs the hospital wing,” said Angelina decisively, “She’s lost too much blood; there’s no way she can continue training.”

“We’ll take her,” said Fred. “She — er — might have swallowed a Blood Blisterpod by mistake. Madam Pomfrey might need to know the ingredients to provide the right treatment…”

“Well, there’s no point continuing with no Beaters and a Chaser gone,” said Angelina glumly, as Fred and George zoomed off toward the castle supporting Katie between them. She didn’t have the heart to continue practicing. She waved her hand wearily and said, “Come on, let’s go and get changed.”

The Slytherins continued to chant as the Gryffindors trailed back into the changing rooms.

At that moment, the Ravenclaw team had just arrived at the edge of the pitch…

They had come to observe the Starcatcher’s performance, but to their surprise, the Gryffindor team’s training had ended early.

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