blogombal Chapter 294 The Last Quidditch Match You Can See at School
Chapter 294 The Last Quidditch Match You Can See at School
"How could that be? This is for little Ronnie." Fred and George couldn't bear to let Ayers be a guinea pig, but their own brother was a different story.
Poor Ron, he's going to be schemed against by his cunning twin brother again.
"Are you sure everything will be alright?" Harry looked at what he was holding and asked Fred and George again if they were okay.
Fred patted his chest, his face full of confidence: "Absolutely no problem, Harry! How could we harm our own people? Ron will be a true Quidditch master on the field after drinking this 'Courage Booster'!"
George nodded repeatedly, his expression so sincere that one doubted the potion's effectiveness. "Don't worry, if anything goes wrong, we'll both eat the broom!"
Harry was still somewhat hesitant, his gaze darting back and forth between the small bottle in his hand and the twins' faces.
"Let's hope there doesn't go wrong like last time. If anything happens to Ron, Hermione will turn us all into toads."
He gritted his teeth, as if he had made a huge decision, "Fine, I'll trust you this time. But if anything goes wrong, I'll make Ron withdraw from the competition immediately."
Watching their interaction, I couldn't help but smile. "I think we can find a safe place for Ron to test the effect first, such as during Quidditch practice time, where professors will be passing by and can handle any emergencies in time."
Fred and George exchanged a glance, a sly glint in their eyes. "Great idea!"
Fred rubbed his hands together. "Let's go find Ron and give him a surprise!" With that, the two of them disappeared quickly among the bookshelves like two nimble weasels.
Harry watched them walk away and shook his head helplessly: "I really hope they didn't mess this up."
He carefully placed the small bottle into his cloak pocket, then turned to me. "Ayers, what's that idea you're talking about? How can we make Slytherin lose so badly?"
I smiled mysteriously, leaned closer to him and whispered, "It was Oliver, who graduated, who told me to tell you this. He guessed that my college's team would definitely make a fuss about the traveling ball. We can do the opposite, use Ron to attract the traveling ball's attention, and then let you take the opportunity to catch the Golden Snitch. Of course, the premise is that Ron has enough courage and ability to stay on the field for a while."
Harry's eyes lit up, and a thoughtful expression appeared on his face: "It sounds a bit risky, but it's not impossible. But can Ron really do it?"
“With the ‘courage booster’ of the twins, plus some targeted training, I believe he can do it.”
I patted Harry on the shoulder. "Besides, we still have time to prepare. Let's go see what Fred and George have done to Ron."
We hurried out of the library and headed towards the Quidditch pitch. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the stone slabs of the corridor, as if foreshadowing the unexpected excitement of the upcoming Quidditch match, a match full of variables.
It turns out that Quidditch, which Umbridge had messed up, almost couldn't be held.
Thankfully, I quickly removed the pink toad, and Quidditch proceeded smoothly.
Fortunately, my seventh-grade senior was able to see one last Quidditch match as he prepared to graduate.
But sitting in the Slytherin stands and looking at the Gryffindor team across the way, I couldn't help but laugh.
Fred and George, who were about to graduate, were still Quidditch players, and then Ginny and Ron joined the Quidditch team as newcomers. Harry was the captain, and it really was all familiar faces.
I don't know any of the players on my own Slytherin team very well, and I'm not particularly familiar with the Quidditch players from my own house.
Slytherin's dark green silk banner fluttered in the wind as I idly twirled my wand, my gaze sweeping over the striking crimson of Gryffindor.
Fred and George were warming up when the twins winked at me in unison, flicking their wands to produce a few golden sparks, which drew gasps from the younger students around them.
Harry stood on the sidelines, holding his broom, talking to Ron. Ron's ears were as red as ripe tomatoes, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the broom tightly.
"Senior, are you watching your opponent make a fool of themselves?" A familiar, cool voice came from behind.
Theodore sat down next to me at some point, his long, slender fingers casually resting on his knees, his grey-blue eyes fixed on the game.
“I have high hopes for my college’s Quidditch players,” Draco said, sitting down on my other side.
I glanced at Draco, the tip of my wand flicking up a wisp of dark green ribbon that had fallen to the ground: "Draco, are you sure this isn't just blind confidence?"
Draco's face instantly turned a deep purplish-red, and the silver serpent emblem trembled slightly with his rapid breathing.
“Senior Ayers is quite right,” Theodore suddenly said, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the engravings on his wand.
“The Gryffindor twins are masters of disruption tactics, and Harry’s reaction speed is renowned.” Before he could finish speaking, Draco had already stood up abruptly, the hem of his black robes brushing against my knees: “Then we’ll wait and see! Once we lift the trophy, you’ll know the true strength of Slytherin!”
Furious, Draco immediately stood at the front of the stands, intending to cheer for his own school.
I looked at Draco, who was standing at the very front. He was quite tall, so why was he still so childish? I chuckled softly, "He's still so impatient."
Turning to look at Theodore, he found him staring at Ron on the sidelines, a thoughtful glint in his grey-blue eyes. "What? Are you interested in Ron?"
“No, I’m looking at the broom in his hand.” Theodore gestured, pointing to the handle of Ron’s old broom, which was wrapped with several rings of glowing gold runes.
“That’s Gringotts’s reinforcement charm, which can withstand more than three times the impact force of an ordinary broom. It seems Gryffindor has done a lot of research.” He paused, twirling his wand in his palm. “But Slytherin isn’t unprepared either.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than a commotion erupted from the Slytherin players' bench.
Goyle and Crabbe struggled to carry a huge box up to the stands. The moment the lid was opened, a deep blue light illuminated Draco's smug face—ten brand-new "Nightshade 2000" brooms gleamed with a cold metallic luster in the sunlight, each broom tipped with the Slytherin serpent emblem.
“This is the latest model my father ordered from Germany,” Draco said, deliberately raising his voice and pointing his wand toward Gryffindor.
"You think you can win if you can't even catch up to the Flying Thief?" Cheers erupted from the Slytherin students in the stands, while Harry, in the distance, simply gripped the flying broomstick I had given him, his eyes burning with the familiar fighting spirit.
Theodore suddenly leaned closer, the scent of cedar mixed with the smell of ink hitting him: "Want to know Draco's real trump card?"
He pulled a parchment from his sleeve, on which was drawn a diagram of the Walker's structure, with key parts circled in red. "They've hidden a small tracking spell inside the Walker; once it locks onto a target, unless..."
A sharp whistle pierced the sky, interrupting his words.
The golden thief's light flashed through the clouds, and the players from both teams shot into the sky like arrows.
I gripped my wand and stood up, watching the fireworks Fred and George set off explode in the air, turning Draco's smug smile into an eerie purple.
This Quidditch battle, destined to be recorded in history, has only just begun.
I hadn't planned to deal with their Quidditch injuries this year, but it seems like even the last year will be just as unsettling.
The ball, carrying dark red runes, brushed past my temples, and the eerie light reflected from its metal shell sent a chill down my neck.
Just as the parchment indicated, the two metal lumps were precisely locked onto Gryffindor's gold uniform.
"Hold the west flank!" Fred suddenly charged in from the side, the green flames from the tip of his wand temporarily forcing back the relentless Wandering Ball.
George seized the opportunity to throw out a fake thief. The silver bait, trailing a ribbon of light, plunged into the clouds, only to explode in mid-air, sending fine gold dust fluttering down onto the shoulders of the Slytherin members.
Slytherin's Chaser seized the opportunity and slammed the Quaffle hard into the scoring ring.
"Look!" Ginny suddenly pointed to the sky.
The real Golden Snitch hovered at the edge of the sun, the shimmering light on its wings flickering due to the Tracking Charm. Slytherin's Quidditch Captain broke free of the spell and took to the air again, the black incantation forming at the tip of his wand causing an ominous hum in the air.
To protect all the young wizards watching the game.
I raised my wand, and a golden light shone from its tip, enveloping the entire stadium in a blinding white light.
When my vision returned, I saw the thief hovering above the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The Slytherin Quidditch captain's broom suddenly trembled violently, and sparks flew from the core of the Tracking Charm marked on the parchment—Ron had secretly used a Counterspell on the broom handle.
Ginny seized the opportunity to swoop down, and the moment her fingertips touched the thief's fur, she heard that signature silvery, crisp sound.
The sound of silver bells exploded in the air like magical notes, plunging the entire Quidditch stadium into a brief silence.
Immediately afterwards, a deafening cheer erupted from the stands, and the Gryffindor students waved their scarlet scarves wildly, jumped up from their seats, and threw their hats into the air.
"We won!" Hermione excitedly hugged another girl in a Gryffindor uniform next to her, her eyes glistening with tears of joy.
Ginny slowly rose into the sky, holding the Golden Snitch high in her hand, a proud smile on her face.
Harry was also sitting on a flying broomstick, clapping for his team's players.
Ron, standing on the ground, gave her a thumbs-up, his face full of pride, as if he deserved half the credit for the victory.
Ron doesn't seem nervous at all now.
Fred and George are riding their flying broomsticks and giving their sister a thumbs up.
The Slytherin Quidditch captain had a grim face. He glared at Ron, then looked at me in the stands, before slamming his broom on the ground and slinking away with his team.
Draco left in displeasure after seeing that his academy had lost again, especially considering the huge investment his family had made.
After the referee announced the result of the match, the Gryffindor players gathered around and tossed Ginny high into the air to celebrate their hard-won victory.
"Ginny, you were amazing!" "That was the most exciting capture ever!" Everyone praised her enthusiastically. Ginny's face turned bright red, but a happy smile remained on her face.
“Senior Ayers, it seems you’ve been hated by our own Quidditch captain,” Theodore said calmly, having watched the whole thing unfold.
"What can he do to me?" I nonchalantly put away my wand and sat down.
There are still so many people in the stands. Theodore and I aren't in a hurry to leave. We're both sitting here waiting for others to leave first.
"Let's go." I didn't care at all about the captain of Slytherin.
However, I don't know if it was because I blocked the Quidditch captain's attack earlier.
It seems that now the younger students in Slytherin have a problem with me.
Now they're openly whispering among themselves in the corridor.
The candlelight flickered in the corridor, casting swaying shadows on the stone walls, and the faint sounds of murmurs coming from downstairs could be heard.
"You really don't intend to explain?" Theodore suddenly spoke, the silver snake pendant flashing coldly at his collar with the movement. "After all, on the day of the Quidditch match, you used magic to block his full-force spell in front of everyone. In the eyes of those little snakes who worship strength, that was no less than slapping the captain in public."
I scoffed, and as I stood up, the hem of my robe swept across the cold stone steps: "What's there to explain? If you can't stand it, come and fight me one-on-one. I don't mind."
Before the words were finished, a crisp sound of porcelain shattering suddenly came from around the corner.
Three Slytherin girls emerged from the shadows in a panic, the one in the middle holding a crystal glass broken in two, her deep green eyes filled with disbelief.
“Senior Ayers!” She took a half step back, the snake-shaped hair ornament in her hair trembling slightly. “We…we were just passing by.”
Theodore raised an eyebrow at me, a silent smile playing on his lips.
My gaze swept over the parchment the girls were deliberately hiding behind their backs—the hasty handwriting still bore traces of wet ink, clearly indicating they were secretly recording something.
"Next time you eavesdrop, remember to reinforce the invisibility spell with a second layer of protection." I reached out and placed my wand above the shattered cup. As the pale green light swirled, the fragments automatically pieced themselves back together.
"But since we've been caught red-handed, why don't we just ask them face to face? What do you think I did wrong that day?" I asked the junior girls with a smile.
The girl on the far left suddenly clenched her fist: "The captain was clearly trying to win Quidditch! But you used magic to interfere with the game and made him lose face in front of the whole school!" Her voice echoed in the empty corridor, startling the bats overhead into fluttering wildly.
Theodore stepped forward at the opportune moment, the tip of his wand sliding out of his sleeve and scraping against the stone brick, producing a teeth-grinding scraping sound: "According to school rules, questioning a senior requires first..."
"That's enough." I raised my hand to stop him, then looked at the junior schoolmate who had questioned me.