While Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were locked in fierce rivalry...
There were still a few surprisingly harmonious moments.
For example...
Luna from Ravenclaw found Ginny from Gryffindor and gently placed her roaring lion hat onto Ginny's head.
Luna then happily put on her own flapping eagle hat.
Whenever Ravenclaw wasn't playing...
She always cheered for Gryffindor.
Meanwhile...
Hermione Granger quietly made her way over to Lewis.
"Look."
She blinked playfully while holding up a small pouch of badges.
The badges were blue with bronze lettering that read:
GO Lewis!
A few seconds later...
The words vanished, replaced by a soaring eagle.
Hermione pointed her wand at one of the badges.
The image immediately floated into the air, circling above her head.
"It looks like you've completely mastered Silent Illusion."
Lewis praised with satisfaction.
"Next comes Timed Illusion—illusions that can produce sound."
"Oh, honestly."
Hermione pouted.
"At a time like this, you're talking about magic?"
"My mistake."
Lewis chuckled before gently taking her hand.
"Then thank you, dear Miss Granger..."
"For supporting a Ravenclaw wizard despite all the pressure."
"You'd better appreciate it."
Hermione muttered softly.
"So make sure you crush Gryffindor today."
"I want those people to have nothing left to brag about."
Lewis naturally knew who "those people" referred to.
Mostly Ron Weasley...
And the girls who had continued excluding Hermione.
Although Scabbers had been exposed as Peter Pettigrew and Crookshanks' actions had been completely justified...
Hermione's relationship with many Gryffindor students had never fully recovered.
On top of that...
This year's heavy academic workload left her with even less time to maintain friendships.
Lewis gently rubbed her hair.
He was already considering preparing a permanent Mind Elixir for her as well.
Hermione had always been somewhat different from the other girls.
Now she had become even more isolated.
"Don't worry."
Lewis said seriously.
"I'll get revenge for you."
"It's a promise."
Hermione smiled shyly.
Her ears turned slightly red before she hurried away, distributing the badges she had made to the rest of the Ravenclaw students.
Just then...
Roger burst into the Great Hall, breathing heavily.
"I just checked outside!"
"The weather's perfect!"
"Hardly any wind!"
"The sunlight's a little bright, but the ground is dry."
"Excellent flying conditions!"
He paced anxiously alongside the Ravenclaw table, checking each player's equipment one last time.
Soon...
The castle doors opened.
The Ravenclaw team picked up their brooms and followed Roger toward the changing rooms.
When they reached the Quidditch pitch...
The stadium was already roaring.
Nearly three-quarters of the spectators wore blue and bronze.
Countless Ravenclaw flags waved proudly through the stands.
Lee Jordan's excited voice echoed around the stadium.
"Here comes Gryffindor!"
"Harry Potter!"
"Katie Bell!"
"Angelina Johnson!"
"Alicia Spinnet!"
"The Weasley twins!"
"And Captain Oliver Wood!"
"They're all once-in-a-decade talents—the greatest generation in Hogwarts history!"
The moment those words left Lee's mouth...
The stadium erupted into deafening boos.
How shameless could one commentator possibly be?
Even Professor McGonagall looked embarrassed.
Only the Gryffindors applauded enthusiastically.
Lee quickly recovered.
"And now—Ravenclaw!"
"Lewis Green!"
"Shirley!"
"Cho Chang!"
"Ravenclaw actually has three Firebolts..."
"Fortunately Gryffindor has one as well!"
The two teams lined up opposite one another.
"Captains!"
Madam Hooch called.
"Shake hands!"
Roger and Wood clasped hands.
On the surface...
Everything looked perfectly cordial.
But the determination burning in both their eyes made it clear...
Neither intended to lose.
Madam Hooch's next words were nearly drowned out by the crowd.
"Mount your brooms!"
"The Raven versus Lion showdown..."
"Begins now!"
The opening whistle sounded.
Every eye immediately focused on Lewis, who held the Quaffle.
Unlike previous matches...
He abandoned Ravenclaw's usual opening strategy.
During training...
He had established screen-and-roll tactics as the team's standard offense.
Lewis and Shirley would alternate as offensive pivots.
The other would become the primary scorer.
Originally...
Lewis's ideal strategy had been a triangle offense.
Its core concept involved creating triangles on the strong side, forcing single coverage before repeatedly switching the point of attack and converting double teams into open opportunities.
Unfortunately...
There was one problem.
Roger.
As one point of Ravenclaw's so-called "Iron Triangle"...
Roger's offensive consistency was...
Questionable.
Among Hogwarts Chasers...
He wasn't even close to the top.
He was an experienced veteran.
Unfortunately...
Instead of reaching his peak...
His performance had already begun declining.
His shooting accuracy had become...
Painfully unreliable.
His bricks, however...
Were remarkably consistent.
Lewis occasionally wondered whether Roger had secretly accepted betting money.
Fortunately...
His defensive experience remained excellent.
Besides...
Lewis still needed someone capable of managing the team's logistics.
Otherwise...
Roger might already have lost his starting position.
But today...
Lewis didn't begin with the screen offense.
The reason...
Was the Firebolt beneath him.
During practice matches...
He had already discovered just how absurdly powerful it truly was.
With his flying skill...
Once he reached full speed...
Very few defenses could stop him.
No one could even surround him.
Therefore...
At the opening of the match, before both teams had become tangled together...
There was no reason to wait for teammates to set screens.
That would only waste the Firebolt's greatest advantage.
Its overwhelming acceleration.
Gryffindor had prepared for exactly this.
After all...
They possessed a Firebolt too.
Harry's responsibilities today weren't limited to catching the Golden Snitch.
He also needed to help the Chasers on defense.
Their objective was simple.
Prevent Lewis and Shirley from scoring at will.
During previous seasons...
Those two had repeatedly built enormous point leads against Gryffindor.
Today's mission...
Was simply to delay them.
At least until Harry could catch the Snitch.
After several years of competition...
Harry had finally learned something.
He was no longer a lone wolf.
In previous years...
His tactical role had been laughably simple.
No tactics.
He spent every match doing nothing except chasing the Golden Snitch.
He never coordinated with teammates.
Pure independence.
But Quidditch...
Was always a seven-player sport.
Even the Seeker had to fit within the team's overall strategy.
Lewis believed exactly the same thing.
Chasers.
Seekers.
Beaters.
All should support one another whenever necessary.
Chasers and Seekers could help Beaters trap opponents.
Beaters and Seekers could also set screens for Chasers.
If a Seeker did nothing except chase the Snitch...
Professional teams would tear that defense apart.
It would be like a jungler in another game who truly did nothing but farm camps.
Meanwhile...
The opposing jungler ganked bottom lane at level two...
Executed four-man dives at level six...
By the time you finally became powerful...
Every lane had already collapsed.
So what if you eventually secured the objective?
Although Oliver Wood lacked Lewis's tactical understanding...
The immense pressure Ravenclaw exerted had forced him to make full use of Harry.
He practically expected one player to perform the work of three.
"Gryffindor is collapsing on Lewis!"
Lee Jordan shouted excitedly.
"They reacted incredibly fast!"
"All four Firebolts immediately pulled far ahead of the Nimbuses and Cleansweeps!"
"We're witnessing the true speed of the Firebolt!"
Switching to a professional tone, Lee continued,
"It accelerates from zero to one hundred and fifty miles per hour in just ten seconds."
"It possesses magical braking capabilities."
"And automatically maintains the ideal flying altitude."
"It is the dream broomstick of every Quidditch player."
"The Irish National Team has already equipped their entire squad with Firebolts."
"We can certainly look forward to their performance at this year's World Cup."
"Personally, though, I'm supporting Scotland."
"They were last tournament's runners-up, and in the final they faced—"
"Jordan!"
Professor McGonagall roared.
"This is Hogwarts' Quidditch Cup, not the World Cup!"
"...Right."
Lee coughed awkwardly.
"Sorry, Professor."
"Lewis's speed has finally been slowed!"
"Angelina and Harry have boxed him in!"
Angelina intended to do far more than merely block his route.
She leaned her entire body toward Lewis, gripping her holly broomstick tightly.
She remembered perfectly well...
Ravenclaw possessed two Firebolt Chasers.
Harry could only contain one of them.
After helping Harry stop Lewis's acceleration...
She needed Harry free to assist elsewhere.
That meant...
She alone had to hold Lewis back.
The two broomsticks collided.
Sparks exploded into the air.
At that exact moment—
A Bludger burst from nowhere like a cannonball, roaring straight toward Lewis's back.
"Beautiful!"
Lee Jordan yelled.
"The Weasley twins' signature double-hit!"
A double-hit referred to both Beaters striking the same Bludger consecutively, dramatically increasing its speed and impact.
It required flawless coordination.
Otherwise...
The second Beater might completely miss.
Or worse...
Get hit by their own Bludger.
Fortunately...
The Weasley twins possessed perfect teamwork.
The Bludger became a black streak tearing through the air.
If it connected...
Lewis's bones would almost certainly shatter.
Yet...
Lewis remained completely calm.
He had already noticed the unfamiliar man seated beside Professor Flitwick.
A camera hung around his neck.
Clearly...
He was the reporter from The Quibbler.
His lens had remained fixed on Lewis since the match began.
If today's game proceeded normally...
What a waste that publicity opportunity would be.
So...
Before the Bludger arrived...
Lewis suddenly rose from his broom...
Then leaped clean off it.
The entire stadium stood.
Countless students gasped.
Many instinctively covered their eyes as they watched Lewis begin plummeting toward the ground.
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