Early morning.
The brilliant sunshine cascaded over Hogwarts, highlighting its ancient silhouette with a dazzling glow. The splendid weather seemed to show favor to the long-awaiting little wizards.
As the castle gates swung open, the little wizards on a temporary break from classes eagerly streamed out, gathering in groups to discuss their favorite school players.
Both the older and younger students were brimming with excitement.
Every face was lit up with irrepressible excitement and joy.
"I barely slept at all last night, just wondering about today's score."
"Huh? Then it looks like you must have placed quite a bet, risking all your remaining pocket money, right?"
"Not just that, I also borrowed a significant sum from Little Grindelwald's [campus loan]. Though the interest is a bit high, if I win, I won't lack pocket money for the next seven years."
"Hiss, you're brave to borrow from that little witch. Aren't you afraid that if you can't repay, your entire family will be forced to work off the debt? I've heard her relative has been actively appearing in major global newspaper interviews lately."
"I wanted to borrow from that Ravenclaw little wizard's [Ian Loan], but he said he doesn't lend to gamblers—what can I do? There's only one chance a year to strike it rich."
"Hiss, it seems like our Young Professor is much more conscientious... But I've also heard that, before hanging out with Little Grindelwald, the Young Professor wasn't this conniving."
...
There was a continuous buzz of discussion among the crowd.
The so-called grand event was actually the Quidditch College final, which is why Ian still found time to water plants in the Room of Requirement, feeling no particular waves of emotion.
There was nothing to be done.
Perhaps for other Hogwarts students, this was a rare grand event, but Ian never felt interested in a sport like Quidditch, which he felt lacked fairness.
If Ian didn't adhere to the principle of integrating himself into the collective as much as possible and hadn't placed a bet of five Golden Galleons under his twin brothers' betting pool, he truly wouldn't have wanted to join the other little wizards to watch the so-called finals. The latter reason weighed slightly more than the former.
"Watching Quidditch to me is like asking the President of Brazil to watch the Dragon Country football team." Ian couldn't quite understand why his two roommates seemed so eager and excited.
Even though Ravenclaw College was already eliminated last week, William and Michael still harbored a burning enthusiasm for Quidditch, even raising banners to support Hufflepuff.
Their tense and excited expressions were something Ian found hard to relate to.
Perhaps they had bet quite a fortune on this match? Yes, in Ian's opinion, the most thrilling aspect of such matches was probably the gambling pool run by a few rebellious Gryffindor students.
"Honestly, Ian, your flying skills are so good, we can't understand why you don't like Quidditch. You could achieve great honor and success in this sport." William held a two-foot-tall canvas, magically painted with the Hufflepuff emblem.
The badge flashed and sparkled, appearing very beautiful from a distance. It was something his roommates had asked Ian to make, naturally standing out more strikingly than others' banners.
"Yes, yes, Quidditch players enjoy preferential dating rights on campus." Michael always appeared more mature than other little wizards in these matters.
It could also be because his little girlfriend recently became wildly enamored with a player from Slytherin College—the same college that Hufflepuff faced in this year's school finals.
"I think Ian doesn't need any dating rights." William muttered softly beside him, not as flattery but as a heartfelt sentiment.
After all, even the upperclassmen were eager to win over this handsome and talented little wizard, so Ian surely didn't have the same emotional worries as Michael and himself.
"If Quidditch could undergo some reform, I think I'd develop some interest in it." Ian had indeed submitted a Quidditch reform plan to Madam Hooch.
However.
The plan he meticulously crafted in ten minutes ultimately fell into oblivion; wizards are an old-fashioned breed, and in matters of Quidditch they're even more so.
This was evident from William and Michael as well.
"It's already perfect, Ian, no new elements are needed." Michael looked at Ian, who was not far ahead of them, with a rather puzzled expression.
"Yes, yes, it has always been this way for so many years." William agreed, they couldn't even imagine how Quidditch could be reformed.
"If you had analyzed the previous fifty years of Quidditch match data on a global scale, you'll find how much unfairness is hidden in near a thousand matches."
"Each game has an average of fifteen Quaffles scored, or about one hundred and fifty points, making it almost impossible for the score difference to exceed 150 points."
"In recorded matches, there have been less than sixty where the score difference was so significant, essentially meaning that whoever catches the Golden Snitch wins."