chapter 184 part 1
Chapter 181: The Rogue Bludger (Mistakenly)
"What should I do?"
Lockhart pushed most of his thoughts aside and wrote seriously in the diary.
'No wonder Dumbledore threw this thing away...'
"Thinking disrespectful thoughts again, are we? Unwilling to admit your own incompetence?"
Such words appeared on the diary's pages. "Losing me is the greatest loss of that foolish Dumbledore's life!"
Lockhart quickly buried his disrespectful thoughts deeper. "Yes, yes, you are a great treasure. Without you, Dumbledore could never have achieved what he has."
"A wise move, Professor Lockhart." This line slowly materialized in the diary. "Now then, think about it. What do you lack right now?"
"Fame, of course!"
Lockhart wrote heavily in the diary. "How can an Order of Merlin, Third Class, be worthy of me? Obviously, only a First Class order is suitable for a legend such as myself!"
"You, a legend?"
The diary mocked him as usual. "You are nothing but a charlatan who fishes for fame!"
Although he had been mocked countless times, these words still made Lockhart grip his wand tightly. *Damn you, diary, this is why Dumbledore abandoned you!*
Thinking this, Lockhart actually cheered up. If it weren't for the fact that this diary was completely unbearable, why would Dumbledore have discarded such a precious treasure?
---
"Another match?"
William set down the documents in his hands and looked at the jubilant Adams.
"Of course, it's a House Team match. We can't just cram all the matches in at the end of the term, can we?" Adams said with a look of perfect sense. "The first term is about to end, and the matches have already been postponed because of various issues. If we don't hold them now, the weekends later on will be fully booked!"
"Alright, alright. Which two House Teams are playing today?"
William was also happy for a change of pace. The stories the ghosts had been telling lately were far too heavy, and watching a House match would be a nice distraction.
"Slytherin versus Gryffindor—an absolutely brilliant, evenly matched battle. Gryffindor has collectively upgraded to new brooms; they're in their prime!"
"New brooms?"
"Did you forget? During that exhibition match, they beat Slytherin and won a sum of prize money. They're only Nimbus 2000s, but that's not bad, is it?"
William suddenly remembered—because of that match, he had even spent some time reading up on basic Quidditch terminology.
"Let's go then. When does it start?"
"Eleven o'clock. Singeade and I have even prepared lunch," Adams said with a satisfied smile.
---
"This is great!"
Perhaps because it had been a long time since he had properly relaxed, today's Quidditch match seemed particularly interesting.
The Gryffindors, with their updated brooms, looked extremely confident. Although their brooms' performance was inferior to Slytherin's, their skill alone kept the scores neck and neck, and they even had a slight advantage.
"One side has a technical advantage, the other an equipment advantage. This is much more exciting than that exhibition match."
William praised sincerely, earning the agreement of his two companions.
"Exactly. And I don't feel any pressure watching them play, since our House isn't in it," Adams said, pointing toward the commentary stand. "Look, that Gryffindor commentator is a different story. His emotions are all over the place."
To be honest, it wasn't just that the commentator's emotions were fluctuating; he was completely biased. But that was bound to happen when using a student as a commentator.
"As long as the match is exciting enough," William said noncommittally. "But isn't that Bludger over there a bit too active?"
Normally, when watching a game whose rules he understood even slightly, William wouldn't ask such a rude and laughable question. If he made a laughably ignorant comment—the equivalent of asking why each basketball player doesn't get their own ball—he felt his career as a professor might be terminated for such an odd reason.
But right now, that Bludger was behaving too strangely, which made him unsure whether some hidden rule had been triggered or if there was another reason. The Bludger kept going after one person, with absolutely no intention of changing its target.
"Who knows? Bludgers are always that crazy," Adams said while looking in the direction William was pointing. "Hmm, that does seem wrong. It's pursuing him too closely, as if it's been enchanted."
"That's right, it's definitely been enchanted," Singeade observed after a while. "I swear on my newly grown hair, that thing has absolutely been tampered with."
"Then why don't they pause the match to inspect it?"
"Are you crazy?"
William's question was met with looks of astonishment from his two colleagues.
"Giving up a match just for a rogue Bludger?"
Their incredulous gazes left William stunned. Had he said something wrong?
"It's just one Bludger. They can investigate it after the match. If the game were paused now, whoever proposed it would be the one to lose. That's the rule."
"You might as well hit the referee with a Stunning Spell. What kind of rule is that?" William grumbled irritably.
"It's not that you can't, it's just that referees nowadays know how to dodge. It's within the rules for Slytherin to tamper with the Bludger, but it's impressive that they managed to get past Madam Hooch's inspection."
William found that he couldn't quite understand the game anymore. 'Was the thing I read really the rulebook?'
"Haha, I can tell you're a novice," Adams said, in high spirits. "Today's match is a perfect example of using the rules!"
"Among the ten major prohibitions, three are directly related to the balls: it's forbidden to damage the Quaffle, it's forbidden for anyone other than the Seeker to touch the Snitch, and another one is that it's forbidden to hit a Bludger towards the audience. See, there's never been a rule against tampering with a Bludger."
"So, can you use a Bludger to hit the referee?"
"Of course. Otherwise, why do you think referees have died during matches?" Adams responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Died during a match? You can attack the referee with a wand during a match?"
"No, no, no. You can attack the referee, but you can't use a wand to do it."
This was absurd. William had thought he understood the game, but it turned out he didn't seem to understand Quidditch at all.
But Adams was clearly getting excited and began to regale him with fascinating stories from the Quidditch pitch—tales of referees' brooms being hit with all sorts of bizarre hexes, a referee's broom being turned into a Portkey and sending him to a desert, and the now-banned practices of setting an opponent's broom on fire or attacking it with a club. William was left utterly dumbfounded.
While Adams was describing these fascinating match anecdotes, the battle on the pitch grew even more intense. The tampered Bludger was frantically attacking the Gryffindor Seeker, Harry, but Harry's flying skills were practically a display of artistry, leading the Bludger on a wild chase.
'It's like kiting the killer in a game. He's a first-rate flying genius.'
The more William watched, the more he wanted to praise him. As someone who was still in danger of falling into the Black Lake during test flights, he was incredibly envious of Harry's flying skills.
"Why has he slowed down?"
Just as William was calculating how long he'd have to fly to acquire that level of skill, Harry's agile movements on the pitch became sluggish. The frenzied Bludger immediately found its chance and charged madly toward Harry's arm.
"It hit!"
William quickly drew his wand, ready to intervene—he could suspend Harry in mid-air before he hit the ground.
Adams and the others also drew their wands, but the player who was hit held on and moved forward in a strange posture.
"The Snitch!"
Adams's exclamation reached William's ears. Only then did he notice a small golden glint in Harry's hand. Then, the broom descended toward the ground at a fast but steady pace.