"Ladies and gentlemen! And our distinguished professors!"
"Welcome to the Hogwarts House Cup! Today is the first match of the school year: Gryffindor versus Slytherin!"
"I am sorry to report that your good friend, Lee Jordan, went into the Black Lake to catch some fish, but had his first kiss stolen by a Black Lake merperson. His mind has been polluted, so he cannot be here to commentate on this match."
"I am your new friend, Lynn. Thank you to Professor McGonagall for giving me this opportunity."
"I will be providing the live commentary for this match."
Sitting at the commentator's podium, Lynn showed not a hint of stage fright. However, when he mentioned Jordan having his first kiss stolen by a merperson, a black lad in the stands next to him waved his fist in protest. His face was wrapped in a large scarf, and the mouth hidden beneath it was swollen like a sausage.
This wasn't because Jordan had actually kissed a merperson, but because he had made a bet with a classmate about whether merpeople's teeth were poisonous. Consequently, while fishing in the Black Lake, he had hooked a fish that had been half-eaten, and after tasting the fresh sashimi, he was successfully poisoned.
"Now entering the pitch is the Gryffindor team!"
"After Charlie graduated and left, Wood used his sharp eyes to find a genius Seeker to reinforce the Gryffindor squad. This is also the first time a first-year student has joined a House Quidditch team ahead of schedule. Let's give Harley a round of applause and cheers, and wish her a spectacular performance!"
"Following them is the Slytherin team. Compared to Gryffindor, their members are physically imposing—especially their captain, Marcus. His thick arms are almost as wide as his head, but why is it that... Marcus's head is so pointy?"
"If I remember correctly, the use of half-troll wizards was banned in Quidditch back in 1770. The match between the Freakish Ogres and the Hyman Speed Vipers was an absolute disaster. Right at the start, members of the Speed Vipers had their heads flattened by the pectoral muscle charges of the Freakish Ogres, resulting in four severe injuries and two deaths. I only hope such a tragedy will not be repeated in today's game."
"Lynn, focus on the match," Professor McGonagall coughed, reminding him from the side.
"Right, Professor."
Lynn answered immediately.
"Now, Madam Hooch is checking to ensure players from both teams are fully ready—she has taken out her silver whistle. The match is about to begin!"
As Madam Hooch pointed her wand at the crate, the golden shadow that flew out first was the Golden Snitch. Immediately after, the Bludgers rocketed into the air, beginning to circle and accelerate overhead, while the largest ball, the Quaffle, rose vertically.
A loud whistle blew—the match had started!
"Gryffindor has possession! It's Angelina Johnson controlling the Quaffle. The Slytherin Chasers are closing in; they intend to rely on their physical advantage to intercept—a pass! Katie Bell has the Quaffle, but her position is awkward. The Slytherin Beater has seized control of a Bludger. Can George, who is closest, stop him?"
Lynn spoke extremely fast, yet his enunciation was crystal clear. The opening clash had only lasted a dozen seconds, but the audience's excitement was already being stirred up by his rapid-fire commentary.
"George has been squeezed out, but he used his back to knock the Bludger away, buying time for Katie—but Marcus, watch him! I have a feeling he wants to foul! A straight collision! Just like a raging buffalo—Katie pulled up in an emergency climb; she nearly fell off! Alicia has secured the Quaffle. The three Gryffindor girls are doing a great job; perhaps Wood considered the superior flexibility of female players?"
"The Slytherin encirclement has been breached. Can Terence Higgs's defense stop the goal? His bulk is large enough to block a goal hoop—look at Fred! He smacked the Bludger with his bat, scoring a direct hit on the Beater, Cassius Warrington, who was trying to interfere with the goal! George has already predicted the Bludger's subsequent trajectory; the Keeper should watch out for his big butt!"
"A perfect Bludger combo! The Slytherin Keeper took the Bludger's attack right on his massive buttocks. Alicia throws and scores! Gryffindor takes the lead, 10 points!"
Ding~
Lynn slapped the scoreboard. "Ten to zero, Gryffindor leads. Slytherin has possession."
Lynn, whose commentary style was completely different from Lee Jordan's, was narrating the game almost entirely based on facts. Beside him, Professor McGonagall nodded with satisfaction. If she didn't know that Lynn was usually quite busy, she would have genuinely considered making him the permanent commentator.
Slytherin's counterattack was equally fierce. The Gryffindor team, which favored agility and speed, fell to a disadvantage on defense. The physical disparity made it difficult for the three girl Chasers to effectively interfere with the Slytherin players, who were charging forward like wild boars. The pressure on Fred and George increased steeply, and Wood, flying before the goal hoops, became Gryffindor's last line of defense.
"A beautiful side dive! Wood nearly flew off his broom, but he succeeded! Possession returns to Gryffindor. But Fred is in trouble; Marcus's broom whipped into his back, nearly knocking him down. Slytherin has regained control of the Bludger. Katie is in danger; she's about to be forced into a dead end—Bludger!"
The Bludger, struck with full force by the Slytherin Beater's mighty swing, flew straight toward Katie's back. Her dodging space on both the left and right had been cut off, as two Slytherin Chasers had sandwiched her in the middle.
At that moment, a pale-faced Katie heard the whistling wind behind her. With no other choice, she had to abandon the ball. She immediately slammed the handle of her broom down, diving toward the pitch below at almost a ninety-degree angle, then pulled up into a lateral ascent with all her might, scraping against the canvas of the spectator stands and escaping by the skin of her teeth.
But the Bludger aiming for her back did not stop. Perhaps the Slytherin Beater was in too good of a form today; the Bludger continued its straight trajectory. The young wizards in the stands let out a scream and immediately crouched down, holding their heads. The Bludger skimmed past, grazing their scalps. Right in its path, a figure with a large scarf wrapped around his head, panic flashing across his face, subconsciously tried to crouch down as well.
But Quirrell's turban was too large, causing him to lose his balance as he crouched too quickly. Feeling as if someone had shoved him from behind, Quirrell stumbled and tilted his body, exposing the back of his large head right in the Bludger's flight path.
Quirrell, who was originally just a bit flustered, now went deathly pale. It was fine if he got hit, but he couldn't let his Master get hurt!
He kicked off with both feet, exerting all his strength to lunge forward. But as luck would have it, the Bludger curved and began to rise, and Quirrell, unable to change his posture in mid-air, caught the Bludger.
The back of his head caved in significantly. The force of the ball was absurdly powerful. His original forward lunge turned into a high-difficulty front flip. The massive impact from behind caused Quirrell to spin two hundred and seventy degrees forward before stumbling to a stand in his original spot. His brain was buzzing, but unexpectedly, the back of his head didn't hurt.
Maybe because the scarf is quite thick?
Just as this thought flashed through his mind, a hysterical scream echoed inside his head, causing Quirrell's already pale face to lose every last drop of blood.
Voldemort was a "good master" who sympathized with his subordinates; he couldn't even bring himself to open his mouth and curse Quirrell out.
Perhaps because it was the first time in decades he had watched a Quidditch match and was too overcome with excitement, Voldemort went directly offline after letting out that one loud scream.
"Professor, are you alright?"
The young wizard sitting near Quirrell was awestruck by the front flip Quirrell had just performed, but was also somewhat worried about his health. After all, Quirrell was already in bad shape; it would be terrifying if getting hit in the head made him even worse.
"I-I'm fine... fine... I'm very... g-good..."
Quirrell waved his hand, stuttering, and walked frantically toward the exit. "I just... j-just... need to be alone to c-calm... calm d-down a bit."
He stumbled away, looking like he had lost his soul.
Lynn withdrew his gaze with some regret. He had underestimated the capabilities of the Voldemort-brand shock absorber. After taking Snape's classes, he simply couldn't accept Quirrell returning to the classroom.
The force of that Bludger, bolstered by telekinesis, was great enough to shatter a human skull, yet it had actually failed.
"Truly a legendary Unkillable King... I underestimated you, Voldemort."
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