Got Hisoka template in Harry Potter World - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Youngest Seeker & Sour Grapes

The Great Hall erupted in scarlet and gold chaos as the news spread. Harry Potter, barely eleven years old, had been named Gryffindor’s new Seeker—the youngest in a century.

Ron Weasley (slamming his goblet on the table, pumpkin juice sloshing): “To Harry! The only first-year Seeker since… well, ever!”

Seamus Finnigan (grinning): “Malfoy’s gonna pop like a Blibbering Humdinger!”

At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy sat stiff as a board, his fork bending under his white-knuckled grip.

Pansy Parkinson (prodding his arm): “Draco, darling, if you clench your jaw any tighter, you’ll crack a tooth—”

Draco (hissing): “Shut it, Pansy.”

Across the hall, Jack Fletcher leaned back, watching the spectacle with amusement.

Blaise Zabini (raising an eyebrow): “Aren’t you supposed to be outraged with the rest of us?”

Jack (shrugging): “Why? It’s not my pride getting trampled.”

Draco’s head snapped toward him, eyes blazing.

—

Draco (voice dangerously low): “He cheated. First-years can’t be Seekers. There are rules.”

Jack (sipping pumpkin juice): “Pretty sure ‘whining’ isn’t a position either, Malfoy.”

Crabbe and Goyle choked on their food.

Daphne Greengrass (coolly): “He’s not wrong, Draco. McGonagall made the exception. That’s not cheating—that’s favoritism.”

Draco (slamming his hands on the table): “My father will hear about this!”

Theodore Nott (without looking up from his book): “Your father’s not here, Draco. And unless he’s secretly hiding under the table, I doubt he cares.”

Draco’s face contorted—first red, then an alarming shade of puce.

Theo (blinking): “Merlin. You’re literally turning green. It’s disturbing.”

Jack (grinning): “Look at that. House unity.”

—

The Slytherin common room was eerily quiet that night, the usual murmurs replaced by the occasional thud of Draco pacing.

Draco (muttering): “Can’t believe it… Potter… absolute farce…”

Jack (lounging by the fire): “You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet. And then I’ll have to listen to you complain about that too.”

Draco (whirling on him): “You think this is funny?”

Jack (raising an eyebrow): “I think you’re throwing a tantrum over something you can’t change.”

A beat. Then—

Draco’s expression darkened, something calculating flickering in his eyes.

Draco (smirking): “Who says I can’t change it?”

Jack (tilting his head): “Oh? Planning to ask nicely?”

Draco (leaning in): “I’m challenging him to a duel.”

Silence.

Then—

Theo (snorting): “You’ll lose.”

Draco (scowling): “Not if I have help.” His gaze slid to Jack.

Jack (deadpan): “Let me guess. You want me to hold your hand while you cry?”

Draco (ignoring him): “Midnight. Trophy Room. Potter won’t back down—he’s too noble.”

Jack (sighing): “Fine. But if we get caught, you’re explaining to Professor Snape why we’re out past curfew.”

Draco’s grin was all teeth. “Bring your bodybag, Potter.”

—

As the clock ticked toward midnight, Jack lay in bed, staring at the canopy.

Theo’s voice cut through the dark. “You’re actually going through with this?”

Jack (smirking): “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Somewhere above them, the lake’s creatures circled.