NOVEL NEXT Chapter 8: Quidditch!
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After leaving Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Harry's backpack seemed even fuller. Mr. Ollivander had been very generous—the black dragonhide backpack he'd gifted Harry was enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. Its internal space wasn't vast, but it was about ten times larger than its original capacity.
It was also incredibly convenient—Harry could reach inside and easily grab anything he needed, as the magical arrangement inside neatly stacked and organized everything.
Hagrid was already waiting outside the shop, holding a large tub of ice cream in one hand and a cage in the other. Inside the cage, a beautiful snowy owl gazed curiously at Harry.
"She's gorgeous, Hagrid."
Harry extended his fingers through the bars of the cage, and the owl gently pecked at them as if to show affection.
"I'm glad you like her," Hagrid said, passing Harry the ice cream. "There's still half a month until your birthday, but I won't be able to make it then. So, here's an early birthday present. Happy birthday, Harry."
"Thank you, Hagrid!"
"No need to thank me. Come on, we still have plenty of things to buy."
They headed to Flourish and Blotts to purchase all of Harry's textbooks, then visited the Apothecary for a cauldron and various other supplies. The assortment of magical items was dazzling, and Harry found himself increasingly fascinated by the wonders of the wizarding world.
However, what caught his attention the most was the Quidditch supply shop. After finishing all their school shopping, Harry found himself standing in front of the store. It was just after two in the afternoon, and the intense sunlight had driven away most of the window shoppers, allowing him a clear view of the display inside.
"Boys always like this stuff," Hagrid chuckled. "Though girls are just as into it too. None of these brooms are big enough for someone my size, but I do have a motorcycle, and that's good enough for me."
Even though Harry had been mentally preparing himself to accept the absurdity of the magical world, he was still stunned when he saw what was on display in the shop window.
Nimbus—representing the manufacturer. 2000—its model number. Everything about that seemed normal. But then came the word "Intercontinental," meaning it could travel long distances with enough endurance to cross continents. And "Flight," meaning it could fly. And lastly, "Missile."
It was a flying missile!
The Nimbus 2000 Intercontinental Missile!
Crafted by Nimbus Racing Brooms Co., this professional-grade racing missile was heralding a new era of Quidditch! With a top speed of 300 kilometers per hour, it offered ultra-durable performance, ensuring non-stop flight, no matter if the game lasted a week or a month— the Nimbus 2000 would never stop!
Staring at the advertisement in awe, Harry swallowed hard. The missile, about twenty centimeters in diameter and one meter eighty in length, was sleek and powerful. Its streamlined body gleamed with a metallic sheen, though not too bright to be blinding. The white coating was simple yet elegant, while the four tail fins at the back moved effortlessly. Eight directional thrusters were distributed at the front and rear, ensuring that the rider could make sharp, high-speed turns in the air.
Even with the most critical eye, Harry couldn't find a single flaw.
This wasn't just a tool—it was a work of art, displayed proudly in the shop window.
"Hagrid, wait—I don't think I'll be able to sleep unless I buy this."
"But first-years aren't allowed to bring brooms," Hagrid reminded him. "You'll have flying lessons, and you can only join the Quidditch team in your second year, Harry."
"There are always exceptions, right? I don't think I need to wait until second year. I'm a natural athlete."
Harry patted his chest. "The Gringotts cart goes insanely fast, but it didn't bother me at all. I was born for this, Hagrid!"
"If worse comes to worst, I just won't take it out. It'll stay in my bag. That's fine, right?"
Seeing how determined Harry was to get the Nimbus 2000, and knowing that Harry indeed had a talent for high-speed rides far beyond his own, Hagrid hesitated for a moment before finally nodding.
"Once you're at school, you'd better talk to your Head of House. See what the professors say."
"No problem, no problem!"
Harry pulled Hagrid along as they pushed open the shop door. "I want it! The Nimbus 2000 Intercontinental Missile," he declared boldly, pulling out his money pouch.
"Welcome, esteemed customer!"
The shopkeeper, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of business, quickly stepped forward.
"Dear customer, I'm Marco, the shop owner. You're here for a Nimbus 2000, correct?"
"Yes," Harry nodded firmly.
"There are only two left in stock. You've come just in time! The Nimbus 2000 has a limited production run, but every single one is a masterpiece."
"Two hundred and thirty Galleons. If you're ready, I can fetch it for you right away."
Harry emptied a small pile of golden Galleons from his pouch. The shop had a special tool for counting coins, and once the gold was poured in and given a shake, the coins lined up neatly in rows of ten. Within fifteen seconds, Marco had counted them all and pocketed the Galleons with a smile.
"Please wait here for a moment. Meanwhile, feel free to browse our other items. We have top-of-the-line maintenance kits, upgradable invisible seats, weatherproof screens for long journeys, and even foldable single beds. We've got it all."
With a slight bow, Marco headed to the back to retrieve the broom.
Taking advantage of the time, Harry looked around the Quidditch specialty shop at the other flying tools on display.
The Nimbus 2000's slogan wasn't just hype—it truly was ushering in a new era of flying devices. Previously, they hadn't been called missiles but rockets instead.
Take, for example, the Cleansweep and Comet series of rocket models. They were much slimmer than the Nimbus 2000, with a diameter of less than ten centimeters and a length of about one and a half meters. They had tail fins but no directional thrusters, and their top speeds only ranged from 180 to 220 kilometers per hour, leaving them far behind the Nimbus 2000.
Apart from these racing brooms, wizards used rockets for regular travel—without the "missile" feature.
These travel rockets, which could seat one to three people, were shorter at about 1.8 meters and could stretch to three or four meters for longer versions. Though not as agile as racing brooms, they were far more comfortable and stable, with smooth acceleration reaching up to 150 kilometers per hour in about thirty seconds. When fully loaded with three passengers, the speed decreased to around 120 kilometers per hour. These rockets were practically a household staple for wizards on the move. They could also fold up into a small cylinder when not in use, which doubled as a stool.
Not one to skimp on quality, Harry upgraded his broom with an invisible seat cushion. He tested the original seat, but it was a bit too hard for his liking. After that, he added a maintenance kit, but he didn't need any of the other extras. Harry planned to play Quidditch, and those weatherproof accessories weren't allowed during matches.
Satisfied! Nothing could make Harry happier than this day.
Parading around with a Nimbus 2000 in hand wasn't a great idea, so Harry tucked it safely into his enchanted backpack. His last stop was the wizarding sweets shop, where he grabbed a few of every snack he hadn't tried yet, planning to share them when he got home.
Soon, it was time to part ways with Hagrid. Handing Harry an envelope, Hagrid said, "Here's your ticket to Hogwarts. September first, King's Cross Station. Everything's written on the ticket."
Hagrid gave Harry's shoulder a final pat. "See you at school, Harry!"
"See you at school, Hagrid!"
Harry waved goodbye to Hagrid as he set off on the journey back home.
(End of Chapter)