"Captain, what did you say?" The explosive-headed player shot up from his seat, face full of disbelief. "You're the Chaser?"
Moriarty nodded solemnly. The British team's overall strength placed them just within the top eight tier. Without using unconventional tactics, their World Cup journey would likely end prematurely.
"This is too sudden, Captain." Roman's voice trembled with uncertainty. "The match is around the corner. Is it really okay to switch positions now?"
"I don't have any problem with it. Do you have a problem?" Moriarty leaned back in his chair and stared Roman down.
Under Moriarty's calm yet imposing gaze, Roman quickly backed down. "Alright, I admit it. I'm worried. I'm not confident enough to be the Seeker—every team's captain is their Seeker."
"That's exactly why I changed positions," Moriarty replied, pulling out a stack of parchment and tossing it onto the meeting table. "Take a look at this data—it shows that in most major teams, the captain is the strongest player. And in most cases, that means the Seeker."
He tapped the parchment. "When the Seeker is the captain, everything revolves around catching the Snitch."
Red Nose raised his hand. "Isn't that how it's supposed to be? The Snitch is the most important part of the match."
The rest of the team nodded vigorously. Since childhood, they'd been indoctrinated by adults to believe the same thing—that the Golden Snitch was the key to victory.
Moriarty calmly addressed their concerns. "Ninety-nine percent of teams build tactics around the Snitch. The Seeker becomes the designated hero. Meanwhile, Chasers—who score actual goals—are often overlooked, reduced to supporting roles.
I want you all to consider this—
If the Chaser scores 15 goals before the opposing Seeker catches the Snitch, then even if they catch it, the match isn't over."
He looked around the room, watching his teammates ponder the statement. Then he raised his voice slightly.
"And if the Chaser scores 16 goals or more before the opposing Seeker catches the Snitch… even if the Snitch is caught, it won't matter. We'll still win."
Blank stares met him, but he pressed on with unshaken resolve. "Gentlemen, it's not that complicated.
Quidditch is as simple as it is complex.
Mount a broom. Send the Quaffle through the opposing goalpost. That's it."
"Sorry to interrupt, Captain… but I have something to report."
Roman's face flushed with shame. After a glance from Moriarty granting permission, he drew a deep breath.
Like tearing off a bandage, he blurted, "I can't guarantee I'll be able to mark Peru's Seeker, or Maxi, or Krum, before you score 15 goals…
Honestly, I might not even be able to keep up with the opposing Seeker at all.
That's what scares me the most. I'm afraid I'll be the weak link. I'm afraid I'll let the team down."
It took genuine courage to admit one's shortcomings. As Roman finished, his eyes reddened and he looked down.
Moriarty gave him a respectful nod. "I'm glad you've shed your pride. In truth, I placed you as Seeker after careful thought."
Roman rubbed his eyes and looked up, hope flickering across his face.
But Moriarty spoke plainly: "Give up on trying to catch the Snitch first. Two weeks is not enough time to drastically improve your performance."
Roman smiled wryly and nodded. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he understood.
"However," Moriarty's tone shifted, softening slightly, "I have a gift for you. For everyone on the team, in fact."
"A gift?" The players straightened in their chairs, intrigued.
"Twelve brand-new brooms, gentlemen."
Moriarty's voice was light, but the effect was explosive. Gasps filled the room.
"There isn't a broom in the world that rivals the speed or performance of these. Statistically, the gap between them and existing models is massive.
It's like comparing a beggar to a Middle Eastern billionaire."
He paused, watching the awe spread across the players' faces.
"Captain, you mean the new broom?" Red Nose's eyes widened. "Another alchemy masterpiece? We all know you partnered with Nicolas Flamel!"
"Correct." Moriarty acknowledged him with a nod. "Before we left for North America, Nicolas and I finalized the new broom's design and rigorously tested its safety.
Now I can say this with full confidence—the broom is ready for the market and for our team."
"Then what are we waiting for?!" Roman leapt to his feet, practically shouting with excitement. "Let's do this, just like you said! With that broom, I swear, no one's getting the Snitch before me!"
Red Nose raised his hand again. "Wait, one more thing… Where are the brooms?"
"They'll be delivered within the week," Moriarty replied coolly. "That gives us a week to adapt to them before the match."
He offered no further detail, clearly avoiding the topic.
In truth, the brooms were functional—but the launch process had been delayed due to a contract dispute with Nimbus. Moriarty had sent a letter to Lilith, requesting her help in resolving the issue within the week.
He trusted she would act swiftly.
"Let's see how much you've learned from me, Lilith," Moriarty thought with a small smile.
Meanwhile, in a second-floor classroom at Hogwarts, students dressed in crisp white coats sat attentively. This was the first official meeting of the newly-formed Justice and Law Society.
On the podium stood Percy, Gemma, and Lilith.
Lilith held a sealed envelope in one hand. In her other hand, she tapped a wand rhythmically against the desk—click, click, click.
"Moriarty wants us to resolve the Nimbus dispute ASAP."
She lifted the envelope. Under the watchful eyes of the white-cloaked members, she opened it with solemn care and passed it around.
Privately, she felt secretly pleased that Moriarty had written to her from Canada.
But her pride wouldn't let her show it. Her expression remained stern.
"Moriarty always manages to stir up trouble. Yes, Nimbus set a trap in the contract—but what are we supposed to do, sue them?"
The room fell silent. Some members exchanged awkward glances, privately thinking that Lilith and Moriarty had a rather passionate connection.
Still, Lilith had a point.
What could they do? Sue Nimbus?
Some young Muggle-born students nodded earnestly.
But Lilith threw cold water on the idea. "There's no contract law in the wizarding world."
That stunned them. Several Muggle-borns blinked in disbelief.
Lilith continued, "There's also no law against plagiarism or intellectual theft in our world. Nimbus can freely copy Moriarty's ideas, and there's nothing we can do about it—not legally."
That explained why Nimbus felt so emboldened.
Anger flared in Lilith's eyes. Anyone who dared to trouble Moriarty was her enemy.
A third-year Gryffindor from a Muggle background stood up. "This wizarding law system is useless! Can't we protest to the Ministry of Magic? Petition them to introduce contract law?"
Protest to the Ministry?
Lilith's mouth twitched. As the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's student division, that would be a bureaucratic mess—and her own problem to solve.
As for suggesting a new law?
Possible, but…
"Even if the Ministry agrees to implement contract law, how long do you think it would take? A month? A year? Moriarty gave us a week."
Lilith crossed her arms and paced in front of the chalkboard. Gemma, Percy, and the other white-coated students were all deep in thought.
The Nimbus contract dispute was the first case taken on by Justice and Law. They could not afford to lose.
But after a night of brainstorming, no one had a solid answer.
In the end, Lilith quietly wrote a letter to her family, asking the Piliwick clan to step in and help arrange a meeting with the director of Nimbus.