"Seems interesting."
Avada raised an eyebrow from the stands. He felt he was beginning to understand the purpose of the Seeker's role—it effectively added an entirely new system to a Quidditch match.
Before the Golden Snitch slowed down, the game followed the usual pattern: Chasers and Beaters scoring and clashing. But once the Snitch decelerated and became catchable, the match shifted into another mode entirely. Both teams began interfering with the opposing Seeker while protecting their own—catching the Snitch was never the Seeker's job alone; it required the cooperation of the whole team.
The two phases interwove seamlessly, with rules and tactics flowing from one into the other, creating far more strategic choices and possibilities. That, Avada realized, was the true appeal of Quidditch—at least when both sides actually obeyed the rules.
Last year's match hadn't been nearly this entertaining. Back then, the scoring phase had been little more than a contest of fouls, and after the Snitch slowed, its altitude had been so high that the Seekers' battle zone became completely separated from everyone else. Each group played its own game… which was how Avada had gotten the mistaken impression that Seekers didn't really participate in direct confrontation.
Of course, the absurdly low cost of fouling was still something worth criticizing.
Still, in this match, both Gryffindor and Slytherin were—rarely—strictly adhering to the rules. Perhaps it was out of respect for the Boy Who Lived, or perhaps Baron's presence had slightly eased the hatred between the two sides. Either way, with the rules observed and no split battlefield, the match was genuinely thrilling—even Avada found his blood racing as he watched.
After the Snitch vanished again, the game returned to its first phase. Chasers and Beaters resumed their fierce exchanges. Baron continued weaving through the field in search of the Snitch, while Harry kept circling high above…
Suddenly, Harry's broom began to shake unnaturally. The vibration intensified rapidly, until it nearly threw him off.
Then the Nimbus 2000 completely lost control, jerking and twisting wildly as it carried Harry higher and higher, drifting away from the pitch…
"My broom's gone mad!"
He shouted downward, but no one could hear him. He was already too far above the others, and everyone below was focused on the match, unable to spare attention for anything else.
'Voldemort's making a move.'
Avada frowned, shifting his gaze from the pitch to the stands, locking onto Quirrell and Snape. Sure enough, both had their heads tilted higher than everyone else's, eyes fixed tightly on Harry's broom, lips moving in silent incantation…
'Where's Hermione? Hermione, do something!'
Harry's broom was growing more unstable by the second—one more moment and he'd be flung off. Anxiety tightened Avada's chest as he looked toward the Gryffindor stands. Hermione was still scanning the audience with a grave expression, clearly not yet certain of Snape's exact position. And whether Harry's broom could hold on even another second was anyone's guess.
"It looks like Seeker Baron has stopped patrolling—his broom is slowing down… what's he planning?"
Lee Jordan's excited commentary suddenly caught the change. "He's flown up to Madam Hooch—does he need the loo? Wait, he's pointing at the sky—let's see what's goi—Merlin's beard! Harry, what are you doing?!"
"Harry's broom seems to have malfunctioned! Thank Merlin Baron spotted it in time and reported it to the referee—Madam Hooch is ascending to provide emergency protection!"
"Just as expected of Baron," Avada nodded softly.
While searching for the Snitch, Baron had also been using feints to harass Harry and prevent him from spotting the Snitch first, so he'd been watching Harry closely—and was the first to notice something wrong. In the midst of a heated first-phase battle, the only person likely to focus on a Seeker was another Seeker.
At the same time, Hermione finally knocked Quirrell over and secretly set Snape's robes alight. Amid the chaos, Harry's broom gradually stabilized.
'Wait… this time, with the commentator calling it out, everyone noticed the Nimbus acting up. Doesn't that mean the Nimbus Racing Broom Company is absolutely doomed? Their latest revolutionary product nearly killed the Boy Who Lived…'
As the danger passed, Avada's thoughts began to wander, offering a silent moment of mourning for the company.
'After this is over, I should explain things to Baron and have Mr. Shafiq discuss issuing a statement with Dumbledore. Otherwise, the Nimbus company's value might crash straight into the ground… Though—does the magical world even have a stock market?'
Mulling over such details of wizarding society, Avada refocused on the match. Harry, having just regained control, suddenly snapped his head around and dove almost straight down toward the ground—nearly a ninety-degree plunge. Baron had already started racing toward the same spot…
"Both Seekers have spotted the Snitch again! But this time it's extremely low—almost skimming the ground!"
"Baron has the distance advantage and is closest—but he's slowing down! He must be worried about crashing due to the low altitude and is choosing a gentler approach! Slytherin is trying to intercept the diving Harry—but Fred and George have blocked them! Brilliant!"
"Harry has overtaken the slowing Baron! He's dangerously close to the ground—but he's not slowing down at all!"
"A magnificent pull-up! Nearly a ninety-degree turn, less than two meters from the ground! Merlin above, what exquisite skill! And the Nimbus 2000 truly lives up to its name—any other broom would've snapped in half at that angle!"
"Harry's broom has touched down! He's covering his mouth—perhaps he's nauseous… wait, what's in his hand?!"
"It's the Golden Snitch! He's caught it!"
"The score is 170 to 50—Gryffindor wins!"
A roar of cheers nearly overturned the stadium as it erupted from the Gryffindor stands. Amid the celebration and chaos, the year's first match came to a perfect close—and one of historic significance. A Gryffindor–Slytherin match with not a single foul, and a Slytherin Seeker who even helped a Gryffindor player—this deserved a special mention in the school records.
"Thank you."
Before leaving, Harry ran over to Baron to thank him personally. He must have heard what happened from his teammates. With heartfelt admiration, he added, "If all Slytherins were like you, that'd be wonderful."
"..."
Baron rolled his eyes internally. I save your life and you insult my House—yeah, Slytherin has its issues, but you're a bit too honest for your own good, kid.
In the end, he kept smiling, praised Harry's incredible ninety-degree turn, and—while vowing internally to get the best broom next year and beat the stuffing out of him—left the pitch with the still-slightly-indignant Slytherins. After celebrating with his teammates, Harry returned to his friends…
"It was Snape!" Ron blurted out eagerly to Harry and Hagrid. "Hermione and I both saw him—he was muttering a curse at your broom, staring right at you!"
"Nonsense."
Hagrid shook his head, clearly dismissive. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, unsure how to explain. Finally, Harry decided to tell the truth.
"I found out something about him…"
"On Halloween night, Snape tried to get past the corridor guarded by the three-headed dog and got his leg bitten. We think he was trying to steal whatever that dog is guarding!"
Hagrid: ?!
(End of Chapter)