On the Friday after the first full moon in September, the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts were held at the Quidditch pitch as scheduled.
On that day, aside from the Slytherins themselves, students from other Houses who were keen on Quidditch also came to watch.
Among them were James Potter and his friends, Remus and Sirius.
"I need to study the competition—see what level the new batch of Slytherin players are at," James said, unusually serious.
Sirius wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch; he came purely because he knew Regulus had signed up to participate.
And since both James and Sirius were going, Remus naturally didn't hesitate to join them.
...
Regulus, carrying the Nimbus 1001 gifted to him by his father, began warming up on the ground.
He had signed up as a reserve Chaser—the current Chasers wouldn't be graduating for another two years. This year, the entire Slytherin team was present at the rookie selection, hoping to find suitable backup players.
Unlike positions like Keeper and Chaser that required coordination and teamwork, the tryouts for Seeker were extremely straightforward—
Several players would drop golden glass balls one after another from a great height, and they would see who could catch them—and who could catch the most.
What seemed like a simple trial actually demanded remarkable skill and agility.
"Your brother's up," said Potter, who had excellent eyesight. "How's Regulus's flying?"
"He flies pretty well, but he didn't have time to practise all summer," Sirius said, shaking his head as he mentally compared James with his younger brother. "I've also never seen him do any tricks."
"At least your brother definitely isn't afraid of heights—" Remus added with a smile, glancing up toward the Astronomy Tower in the direction of the castle. The little lions all grinned knowingly.
On the pitch, Regulus mounted his broomstick with elegant precision, pushed off forcefully from the ground, and the broom lifted him sharply—as if it were an extension of his own body.
The wind began to howl past his ears, whipping his black hair back, and his black cloak, trimmed in silver and green, billowed dramatically behind him.
Blue sky. Castle towers. Green trees. Rolling hills. Clear waters…
Freedom.
Vastness.
Quidditch was a passion etched deep into Regulus's soul.
He executed a few sharp turns in mid-air, then, holding the broom with one hand, ascended and descended several times in swift arcs before quickly signalling to the Slytherin team captain, Flinn, that he was ready to begin.
A burst of vivid fireworks shot from the tip of Flinn's wand, and the Beater stationed above released the first golden glass ball into the sky.
Not far away, James watched closely, his face displaying a level of focus that never appeared in class—
The glass ball plummeted in a sharp diagonal, gaining speed rapidly. In the stands, most students could no longer track the golden blur—
But to Regulus, it was as if the ball's descent had slowed. Or rather—his brain was processing the movement with incredible clarity and speed.
In just a moment, Regulus had already moved diagonally, intercepting the falling path of the glass ball.
The first one—caught.
Before he could even tuck the first ball away, the second was already accelerating down from another direction.
There was no conscious thought—Regulus felt as though his vision and body were perfectly synchronised. After a sharp drifting turn—
The second one—caught.
A cheer erupted from the Slytherin players in the stands.
The movements were simply too graceful. As a Muggle once said: "You must emphasise good looks! Good-looking things generally aren't a big problem."
Based on the aesthetic appeal of his flying alone, Regulus was undoubtedly qualified for the team.
High in the air, Captain Flinn gave a hand signal, and the third and fourth glass balls were released simultaneously, falling in opposite directions!
Regulus flew toward the lower one first—
The third one—caught!
Then he turned his broom sharply and executed an astonishing dive toward the next target!
Before the fourth ball even touched the grass, he scooped it neatly into his hand.
The fourth one—caught!
Regulus let out a long breath—his training in Stealth and Climbing had greatly enhanced his overall physical fitness.
"Light and agile! Black, that was amazing! You're incredible!" Flinn couldn't help but run over and pull Regulus into a hug. "With your level, you're more than qualified as a reserve—you could play in official matches right now."
Meanwhile, one of the current Slytherin Chasers looked glum—he could already sense the threat of being outshone. It was clear he'd have to train hard this year just to keep his place.
"James, you've got a rival!" Remus said, clapping James on the shoulder. "Sirius, your brother's really something."
"This is a whole new side of him—Regulus always finds ways to surprise me," Sirius replied with a relaxed smile. "James, I'm leaving the job of beating Regulus to you."
...
Regulus, however, was quite satisfied with being a reserve. He didn't want to become a full-time player just yet.
He simply didn't have the time to fully commit to Quidditch training.
As a reserve, he'd have much more flexibility.
"Are you familiar with Quidditch scoring rules?" Captain Flinn asked him.
"Yes, very familiar."
"Alright, one last question then: if the opposing team has 170 points and we've got 10, and you catch the Golden Snitch—who wins?" Flinn asked very.. VERY seriously.
Eh..? Is that even a question!?
"170 to 160. The opposing team wins," Regulus answered without hesitation.
"Brilliant! You wouldn't believe how many players can't do the maths..." Flinn's eyes lit up in happiness. "Yeah.. They all think catching the Snitch always means victory..."
Regulus: Hmm, my primary school maths was decent after all.
...
Soon, another piece of good news arrived—
Headmaster Dumbledore had approved the reinstatement of the Duelling Club, with Professor Flitwick officially appointed as its instructor.
The club's operations would be managed by Regulus Black, who had "already demonstrated exceptional mathematical talent." Matches would adopt a new format—one popular in the Muggle world—using a dynamic rating system that began with estimated rankings and updated them through recorded match outcomes.
Statistics, logarithms, distributions... the Little Wizards were utterly baffled.
Only the Arithmancy professor nodded repeatedly in approval, vowing to have Regulus in his class next year.
"Our Black's mathematical level is indeed very high!" declared Slytherin's Quidditch captain, Flinn.
For a while, excitement surged across the school as students submitted their applications one after another.
"Winners will receive the Golden Eagle Trophy and golden belts shaped like their House emblems!"
By now, many students knew that Slytherin's Regulus Black owned two eagles… which led to the Ravenclaw students casting increasingly resentful looks in his direction—looks that were on the verge of boiling over.
...
Regulus and a few companions squeezed into the Slytherin common room, just in time to see Rabastan Lestrange walking out, lips tightly pursed and looking visibly disgruntled.
Meeting Rabastan's dark, brooding gaze, Regulus didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled calmly and said: "See you on the duelling field."
"You!" Rabastan stumbled slightly and glared at him with unrestrained fury. "Are you seriously going to..."
Regulus didn't respond, turning away and walking off without looking back.