Amid the thunderous cheers of countless young witches and wizards, Harry mounted his broom and took his position in midair.
Taking advantage of the brief lull before the start, as was tradition, he quickly ran through his wizarding-world to-do list in his head.
The most important thing was still magical research. Right now, Harry's work on the Avada Gnaw-a-Melon lightning chain had already made some progress.
But that spell was extremely evil. Even Dumbledore was deeply wary of the Killing Curse, let alone a stronger version that could kill multiple people in one go—an Avada Gnaw-a-Melon lightning chain.
So unless it was absolutely unavoidable, this spell could never be exposed lightly.
At the same time, as he continued researching wizarding magic, Harry had also noticed something sharply: dark magic in the wizarding world really did have a serious problem.
Dark magic seemed to be cursed by some abnormally powerful ancient magic. The more a wizard used dark magic, the more their soul would be gradually polluted—sliding toward corruption, becoming more evil and increasingly obsessed with killing.
Harry planned to investigate the cause behind it, and develop more spells that had powerful offensive force while causing absolutely no contamination to a wizard's mind.
He also needed to go into the Forbidden Forest to find unicorns. Unicorns naturally possessed healing and purification magic.
Their healing magic might become the key to improving the Mending Charm, and their purification magic might be used to cleanse the curse within dark magic.
When he went to the Forbidden Forest, Harry planned to bring Hermione. He intended to train her into the Sorcerer Supreme of the wizarding world.
Just that storyline alone could probably let some author finish an entire novel, titled something like: Transmigrated to the Wizarding World as the Chosen One, I Fed a Sorcerer Supreme into Existence.
Harry thought the idea wasn't bad. He decided that once wizards and Muggles could coexist peacefully, he'd publish a novel with that title.
But right now, he needed to focus completely on this year's first Quidditch match and lead Gryffindor to the Quidditch Cup.
He felt pretty good about Professor McGonagall. The poor professor hadn't lifted the Quidditch Cup in years—this year, she ought to get her wish.
And Quidditch points were also tied to the House Cup. Winning a Quidditch match awarded a straight 150 points to the house!
For Harry, winning wasn't difficult at all, so if nothing unexpected happened, even if Snape kept docking points, Professor McGonagall could still lift both trophies this year!
"Both teams are in position, and Madam Hooch is stepping onto the pitch—the match is about to begin!" announcer Lee Jordan's cheeks were flushed, his booming voice stirring everyone's blood.
At the center of the pitch, Madam Hooch stood with hands on hips. Her pale golden eyes, sharp as a hawk's, swept across the players as she said heavily, "I expect both teams to play well—and to play fair!"
Hearing that, the Slytherin players exchanged looks and showed strange smiles.
They were always skilled.
And always had style.
Madam Hooch kicked open the crate. First, the Golden Snitch flashed out like a streak of light. Then came the two Bludgers.
Finally, she threw the Quaffle into the air.
Lee Jordan launched into it. "Oh! The Quaffle's up—AND THE MATCH IS ON!"
More than a dozen brooms crossed and clashed in the air, fighting for control of the Quaffle.
Watching the constantly shifting situation, Jordan trembled with excitement, almost screaming with uncontrollable hype:
"Ahhh—LOOK! Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor has the Quaffle! What a brilliant Chaser—and she's gorgeous too!"
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall's displeased voice rang out.
"Sorry, Professor!" Jordan immediately apologized, and the sudden interruption made many students burst out laughing.
His eyes always unconsciously chased after Angelina on the pitch. Anyone who knew him understood perfectly: Jordan liked Angelina.
But fate loved to mess with people. Poor Jordan—Angelina's attention was aimed more at the Chosen One.
Even though the Chosen One was two years younger than her!
Romance aside, Jordan's commentary was still excellent. Maybe one day he'd become an official Quidditch announcer. He sped up, calling the action in rapid-fire bursts:
"Angelina makes a gorgeous pass to Alicia Spinnet—back to Johnson, then—
Oh no! Slytherin has stolen the Quaffle! Slytherin captain Marcus Flint has it—he's going to score!
Merlin's twenty-years-unwashed underpants—he doesn't score! Wood with a great move—intercepts it! Gryffindor has possession again—
Gryffindor Chaser Katie Bell is darting around Flint high above the pitch—she's been hit in the back of the head by a Bludger!
Slytherin steals the Quaffle—Adrian Pucey charges for the goalposts—but he's knocked off by another Bludger!
That Bludger is batted aside by Fred or George—those twins are impossible to tell apart—
Gryffindor's Beaters are doing brilliantly—Angelina takes the Quaffle back, she's sprinting, the hoops are right ahead—GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"
The pitch was roaring, cheers and shouts blending into a boiling sea.
But Harry sat outside all that excitement, looking mildly bored.
With his strength, the moment he actually tried, he'd catch the Golden Snitch quickly and the match would end immediately.
But then the match would be way too boring.
The students didn't want to see that. What they wanted was a dramatic, back-and-forth showdown—not a blink-and-it's-over speedrun.
Just like the duel arena in the Crossroads Dimension: aside from the people betting, the rest didn't care who won.
They just wanted blood on the floor.
Harry turned his head forward and said helplessly, "Higgs, why do you have to stay right in front of me? You're blocking my view."
Higgs was Slytherin's Seeker—an attractive young guy. Right now, he looked deadly serious, staring at Harry without daring to glance anywhere else.
Hearing Harry, Higgs replied gravely, "We know how strong you are. You can find the Snitch fast. So my only task this match is to tie you down so the others can build a lead and win."
He didn't hide it at all. It was naked, straightforward strategy.
Harry went silent. Typical Slytherin—winning no matter what.
This approach worked on most Seekers, but as always…
Harry wasn't most Seekers.
Even though he was confident he could shake Higgs, Harry still didn't feel like grabbing the Snitch immediately. Slytherin's plan actually suited him. So he started chatting with Higgs instead.
"You sure? Gryffindor already scored twice. Even without me, you might still lose."
Even though Gryffindor was up by twenty points, Higgs didn't look worried. Instead, he stared at Harry with a strange, meaningful expression.
After hesitating for a while, he seemed to warn him: "Potter… you should know Quidditch has over seven hundred different ways to cheat."
"Huh?" Harry looked blank for a second—but then he understood exactly what Higgs meant.
In the next scramble, two Slytherin players boxed Angelina in from both sides, forcing her to slam toward a goalpost at high speed.
When they were only a few meters away, both players sharply veered aside—and gave Angelina a shove on the way out.
Poor Angelina couldn't dodge in time. She crashed into the post with a heavy impact and went unconscious.
Harry's eyes turned cold instantly. He looked at Higgs sharply and demanded, "So this is your 'secret' to winning over and over?"
Higgs spread his hands helplessly.
"Personally, I follow the rules. But Slytherin is like this—anything to win.
Besides, cheating has always existed in official matches. At this point, cheating is basically part of Quidditch!"
A thick bundle of black lines practically appeared on Harry's forehead. He'd already thought the "catch the Snitch decides everything" rule was absurd enough, and now they could just openly cheat too?
What happened next completely set Harry's anger on fire.
Slytherin captain Marcus Flint suddenly snatched a bat from one of the Beaters and roared, "Gimme that!"
Then he swung the bat in a full arc and smashed the Bludger hard.
The struck Bludger shot forward at high speed—straight at Wood. Wood didn't even have time to react before it slammed into his nose.
The impact was so brutal that Wood flew off his broom like a kite with its string cut, plummeting straight toward the ground.
From that height, even with thick sand below, he'd at least break several bones.
Harry laughed in fury. "Heh. What an interesting game. So swapping in as a Beater mid-match isn't a foul?"
Seeing Harry smile, Higgs suddenly felt a bone-deep chill for no reason at all.
——————
In the stands, Hermione and Ron stood with the other Gryffindors, watching everything Slytherin had just done.
Hermione puffed out her cheeks, furious. "No. That's cheating!"
Seamus was even angrier, raising his hand and shouting, "They're cheating! Give them a red card—send them off the pitch!"
Hearing Seamus, Ron muttered quietly beside them, "What's a red card? Quidditch doesn't even have a rule for sending players off."
Hearing Ron's mutter, Hermione—smart as she was—felt exactly as speechless as Harry did.
What kind of garbage sport was this, with rules this broken?
But if that was how it worked, Hermione couldn't change it. All she could do was cheer for Harry and pray he could still win.
But when she saw Higgs glued to Harry's side, her heart sank instantly.
Now both key players were injured and taken out, and even Harry was being tied down.
Winning was going to be really hard!
Then, suddenly, she saw something strange—Harry actually shook Higgs off in an instant and shot toward Gryffindor's Beater.
Lee Jordan also noticed and froze.
"What's happening—Gryffindor's Seeker Harry Potter is flying toward Fred!
Merlin's sixty-years-unwashed bad omen—HE TOOK THE BAT AND SMASHED A BLUDGER!
Oh my God—I think I just heard bones snap! A Slytherin player got hit and passed out before they even hit the ground!"
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