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33.88% Harry Potter with Technology System / Chapter 102: Easy... With a Lot of Gold

Chapter 102: Easy... With a Lot of Gold

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Thunderbird then said, "They say flying is a Potter Blood Ability. I wonder if that is true." It started to speed up. Harry also followed, using the broom at full speed. The Thunderbird soared ahead, its wings cutting through the air with an elegance and power that was mesmerizing to watch. Harry pushed the Nimbus 2000, feeling the rush of adrenaline as the broom responded with incredible agility.

"Potter Blood Ability, you say?" Harry called out, intrigued. "I wasn't aware of that. My family history is something of a mystery to me."

The Thunderbird glanced back at Harry, its eyes shimmering with ancient wisdom. "The Potters have always been known for their affinity with the skies. Your ancestors were as much at home in the air as they were on the ground."

Harry felt a surge of pride, mixed with a pang of longing. "I wish I knew more about them. All I have are a few stories and second-hand tales."

Nigel, ever-present in Harry's mind, quipped, "Well, looks like you're continuing the family tradition in style. Who knew being a Potter came with an inbuilt need for speed?"

Harry chuckled at Nigel's comment, focusing on the Thunderbird's flight. The creature led him on a dance through the skies, weaving between clouds and diving with exhilarating speed. Harry followed, his heart pounding with excitement and his mind alight with the thrill of flight.

The Thunderbird's voice resonated once more, "You carry the Potter legacy well, young Harry. There is more to your lineage than you might imagine. The Potters have long been guardians of secrets and knowledge, stretching back over a thousand years."

"A thousand years?" Harry echoed, astonished. "That's... incredible. And here I am, knowing almost nothing about it."

Nigel interjected, "Well, you're making up for lost time, aren't you? Broomstick prowess, check. Mysterious family legacy, check. What's next? Discovering a hidden Potter treasure?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Except I am in one of them, Nigel." He glanced around the Enchanted Haven Briefcase, a veritable Potter treasure in itself, marveling at the ingenuity and magic it represented.

The AI, with dripping sarcasm, answered, "Oh right. My bad, Master Harry. Here you are, flying high, quite literally, in a legacy you've only just begun to understand."

Harry, steering the Nimbus 2000 skillfully, pondered the Thunderbird's words. "A thousand years of history... It's overwhelming, but I can't help feeling excited. There's so much to learn, so much to uncover."

The Thunderbird, soaring gracefully, spoke again, "Your journey is just beginning, young Potter. The skies are vast, and so is the legacy you carry. Embrace it, and let it guide you."

Harry, feeling a sense of purpose stirring within him, nodded. "I will, thank you."

Nigel, his voice taking on a rare tone of seriousness, added, "Remember, Master Harry, with great legacy comes great richness."

Deciding it was time to return, Harry bid a grateful farewell to the Thunderbird and skillfully maneuvered the Nimbus 2000 back towards the mansion nestled in the heart of the Enhanced Haven Briefcase's forest. The experience had left him exhilarated, yet introspective about his family's legacy and the mysteries it held.

Landing smoothly, Harry retracted the suitcase, tucking it into his pocket. As he made his way back to the Slytherin common room, he braced himself for the barrage of questions he was sure to face from his curious housemates. "Well, Nigel, time to face the music," he muttered under his breath.

Nigel, never missing a beat, quipped, "Indeed, Master Harry. And what a symphony it's bound to be! Just remember, in the face of curiosity, ambiguity is your friend."

Harry nodded, formulating a simple but plausible explanation in his mind. "I'll just tell them I'm a shareholder in Nimbus, and the owner wanted to send me a gift. I'll keep the details to myself until the first Quidditch game."

Entering the common room, Harry was immediately met with a flurry of inquisitive looks and whispered conversations. As he had expected, the news of his dramatic broomstick delivery had spread like wildfire.

Mixed with his latest visit to the infirmary, Harry was bound to be questioned. As he entered the common room, the curious glances from his housemates were as palpable as the damp chill of the dungeon walls. Daphne and Tracey, who cared more about his health than the broomstick, approached him first.

"Potter, are you alright?" Daphne asked, her expression showing genuine concern. "We heard about your... episode."

"Yeah, you gave us quite a scare," Tracey added, her eyes scanning him for any signs of lingering fatigue.

Harry, attempting to ease their worries, replied, "I'm fine, really. Just pushed myself a bit too hard with studies. Madam Pomfrey made sure I'm back to normal."

As Daphne and Tracey seemed somewhat reassured, Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott approached, their expressions a mix of concern and unmistakable curiosity. "Potter, that was quite a scene this morning," Malfoy said, nodding towards Harry's room where he assumed the broomstick was. "A broomstick, delivered right to the Great Hall. And if my sources are correct, it was a Nimbus 2000. You must be doing something right."

Zabini, ever the observer, added, "Any exciting news, Potter? Is there a reason for such a lavish gift?"

Harry, keeping his response vague yet plausible, answered, "Let's just say it's a perk of being a shareholder in Nimbus. The owner decided to send a gift."

Nott raised an eyebrow, "A shareholder, at your age? That's impressive."

Before the conversation could delve deeper into his financial dealings, Pansy Parkinson sauntered over, her smirk barely concealing her intent to mock. "Oh, look, Potter's back from his beauty sleep. And with a new toy, no less."

Harry, unfazed by Pansy's barb, retorted with a nonchalant shrug, "Just a bit of business, Ms. Parkinson. Nothing too extravagant."

Pansy, clearly not satisfied with Harry's dismissive attitude, tried to provoke him further. "A business, you say? Do enlighten us, Potter. How does a first-year student become a shareholder in a company like Nimbus?"

Harry chuckled as he looked at Pansy, his response casual yet pointed. "With a lot of gold, Ms. Parkinson." The surrounding students erupted in laughter, and Pansy's face flushed with embarrassment. She huffed in annoyance and swiftly exited the common room.

Shaking his head with amusement, Harry then turned to leave with Daphne and Tracey, who regarded him with narrowed eyes. "What?" he asked, sensing their curiosity.

Daphne replied pointedly, "You're hiding something, Potter."

Tracey nodded in agreement, "Definitely. You reek of secrets. Spill it, Potter."

Harry chuckled at Tracey's bluntness. "I didn't know you had such a sensitive nose, Ms. Davis."

Tracey blushed slightly at the comment, while Daphne giggled. Then, turning serious, Daphne said, "Don't change the subject, Potter."

Resigned, Harry confessed with a laugh, "Alright, fine. I'm the new Seeker for Slytherin. But it's a secret for now, only a few people know. So, please keep it under wraps."

Both Tracey and Daphne looked at Harry with a mix of excitement and surprise. "For how long?" Daphne inquired, her tone indicating she was impressed despite herself.

Harry thought for a moment, "About a week now."

Daphne squinted her eyes at him, a hint of pride in her expression, while Tracey shot him a playful but slightly annoyed look. "You kept it a secret and even let others try out for the team, and you just sat there watching with us? I thought we were friends, Potter."

Harry responded with a mischievous grin, "Well, it was part of the strategy. Marcus and Selena thought it best to keep it under wraps until the first game. A surprise element, you know."

Daphne, seemingly satisfied with the explanation, nodded. "Clever. But you could have told us."

Tracey, still feigning indignation, added, "Yeah, Potter. Next time, no secrets between friends, okay?"

Harry, amused and grateful for their understanding, replied, "Promise. No more secrets. Well, at least not about Quidditch."

--

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