"Team Gryffindor is on the field!"

This time, the Quidditch commentator, Lee Jordan, shouted loudly.

"Potter, Bale, Johnson, Spinnet, the Weasley brothers, and Wood, it's widely believed that this is the best team at Hogwarts in years—"

Lee Jordan's comments were drowned out in a flurry of boos from the Slytherin side.

"Slytherin is also on the pitch, led by captain Flint, and he seems to have made some changes to the line-up and seems to be more focused on size than skill-"

The boos from the Slytherin side were louder, but Clarke, looking at the situation on the court, decided that Lee Jordan did have a point.

At least Malfoy was the youngest of their team, and the rest of the team was taller than a rugby player.

"Captains, shake each other's hands!" Mrs. Hodge said.

Flint and Wood stepped forward and held each other's hands tightly, as if they were trying to break each other's fingers.

"Get on the broomstick!" Mrs. Hooch said, "Three-two-one-"

Her whistle was drowned out by the cheers of the audience, and fourteen brooms rose into the air in an instant, turning into lightning bolts in the air, crisscrossing the air.

In the beginning, the game was still in a normal state of development.

"Now the Quaffle is on Gryffindor's side, and Arya Spinnet is in possession of the ball and heading straight for the Slytherin goal, which looks good, Arya!"

"Ah, not good - the Quaffle was intercepted by Warrington."

"Warrington of Slytherin was on a rampage on the pitch – wow! - George Weasley's Bludger hit it beautifully, Warrington dropped the Quaffle, it was grabbed by - it was snatched by Johnson, and Gryffindor was in possession again. ”

"Come on, Angelina - beautiful, over montay - be careful, Angelina, go!"

"—she scored! Ten to 0, the Gryffindor pair is ahead! ”

Lee Jordan's commentary was ridiculously fast, and Angelina, who had just shot a ball, glided in front of Clark and the others around the end of the court, waving her fists proudly, causing the bright red sea below to cheer -

"Ouch!"

Angelina almost fell off her broomstick when Slytherin captain Marcus Flint hit her hard.

"I'm sorry!"

To the boos of the audience, Flint said, "I'm sorry, I didn't see her!" ”

Of course, there was not a hint of apology or embarrassment in his tone.

In the face of the opponent's provocation, the players of the Gryffindor team are not vegetarians.

Later, Fred Weasley struck Flint on the back of the head with his bat, and Flint's nose hit the broomstick and bled out.

"Enough!"

Miss Hooch shouted, swooping among them.

"Slytherin attacks the opposing chaser for no reason, and Gryffindor takes a free throw!

Gryffindor deliberately hurts the chaser, and Slytherin takes a free throw! ”

Madame Hodge was furious about their unscrupulous means, but even punishment could not stop the smell of gunpowder between the two academies, and the first was just an appetizer.

Soon, as the game continued, there was already a trend towards Quidditch brawls.

It's almost impossible to know who did it first, but when the Quaffle flew to Gryffindor's side, Monty, the Slytherin chaser, didn't catch the Quaffle, but reached out to grab Katie's head.

Katie flipped in the air, still firmly on her broomstick, but the ball fell.

Madame Hooch's whistle went again, and she ascended to Montay and began to shout at him.

A minute later, Katie got past the Slytherin goalkeeper and scored again.

The penalty cost Slytherin, who were outrun by three goals by Gryffindor at 30-0.

Of course, they didn't do it, and in addition to rampage when they grabbed the ball, the two batsmen even set their sights on Harry.

In addition to hitting Harry with two Bludgers in quick succession, they both raised their bats and flanked Harry.

Luckily, Harry was able to avoid the two of them by turning the fire bolt at the last second.

But just because he can dodge doesn't mean his teammates can.

Slytherin's Bol hits Arya with his bat again, and quibbles that he thinks she's a Bludger.

George Weasley then retaliated by elbowing Bol in the face.

Not to be outdone, Slytherin's Bol and Derek took advantage of George and Fred protecting Harry to shoot two Bludgers at Wood, one hitting him in the stomach the other.

Wood rolled in the air, clutching his broomstick tightly, looking like he was having trouble breathing.

……

Clark couldn't help but shake his head as he watched the scenes on the court.

This is arguably the dirtiest ball game Clark has ever seen, and even the wizarding world, which is known as the country of football hooligans, has learned the characteristics of Muggle world football players.

Of course, compared to eating sea cucumbers every day and having soft legs, daring to be tough is at least a fighting spirit.

By this time, Harry had spotted the Golden Snitch in the arena, and the little thing was shining twenty feet above his head.

The audience saw Harry accelerate suddenly, hundreds of pairs of eyes were instantly fixed on him, and Hermione, who was sitting next to Clark, held his hand tightly.

"Come on! Come on! ”

The Gryffindor fans were almost hoarse, and Harry leaned over to accelerate, the wind whistling in his ears, and he stretched out his right hand, and his heart almost jumped to his throat.

But suddenly, he found that his fire bolts had slowed down—

Harry was startled, and when he looked back, he saw that it was Malfoy who had pounced on him and grabbed the tail of the firebolt and pulled it back.

"You-" Harry was so angry that he tried to punch Malfoy, but he couldn't.

When the spectators who shouted and cheered saw this, they even scolded Malfoy and booed.

Malfoy didn't care what anyone else thought, though, he was panting from dragging the firebolts, but his eyes gleamed with malice.

He achieved his goal - the Golden Snitch was gone.

"Free throws! Gryffindor Free Throws! I've never seen anything like that! Ms. Hooch screamed and swooped forward, Malfoy sliding back to his Halo 2001.

"Shameless scoundrel!" Lee Jordan, who was the game's commentator, yelled at the microphone as he jumped out of the reach of Professor McGonagall, "Despicable, shameless miscellaneous—"

Professor McGonagall didn't bother to stop him, even though she herself was waving her fist in Malfoy's direction and shouting angrily.

The Slytherins, on the other hand, were not only not ashamed of Malfoy's foul, but rejoiced, praising and encouraging him, which also caused the Gryffindor side to concede two goals in a row due to an unbalanced mentality.

Fortunately, everything is still under control, and the match point is still on the Seeker.

Harry and Malfoy both stared at each other very closely, their knees touching each other often, Malfoy used dastardly tricks against Harry, and Harry did not let Malfoy approach the Golden Snitch from any direction......

"Fuck off, Potter!" Malfoy yelled helplessly, as he tried to turn the corner, only to find Harry blocking his way.

"Come on, hurt each other!" Harry shouted.

The two tangled with each other for a moment, and then, as Gryffindor team's Angelina was surrounded by a group of Slytherin members, Harry controlled the firebolt and accelerated into it, opening a way out for her.

"Harry shouldn't be distracted, it's a tactical mistake!" Clarke, who was in the stands, suddenly expressed his opinion.

Sure enough, things turned out just as Clark had said, and while Harry was distracted to help, Malfoy spotted the figure of the Golden Snitch, swooping down with a triumphant expression on his face.

Below him, a few feet above the lawn, there was a small golden speck of light—

Harry's heart was about to stop beating when he saw this, and he hurriedly urged the fire bolt to accelerate and dive downward, but Malfoy was much closer than him, and he could only count on "money ability" now.

"Quick! Fast! Fast! ”

Harry urged his firebolts, which were the best (and expensive) broomsticks, and even if he was a latecomer, he gradually got closer to Malfoy.

In the process, Slytherin's batsman, Bol, hit him with a Bludger, but he dodged it on the broomstick.

And then—he chased Malfoy's ankle—he was next to Malfoy—

Victory was in sight, and Harry lunged forward, letting go of his broomstick with both hands, and he blocked Malfoy's arm—

"Got it!"

Harry risked his life and forgot about his life to catch the Golden Snitch first!

He straightened up and raised his hand into the air, and the stands instantly boiled.

"Ahh

Hermione's shrill screams rang in Clark's ears, and even those as sane as she could not help but be thrilled in this situation.

This is the charm of sports competition.

On the pitch, the Gryffindor players huddled together, screamed hoarsely, and fell back to the ground.

Torrents of scarlet water rushed over the fence and poured into the field, countless hands raining down on their backs.

Harry and the other players were pushed up by the crowd as they were lifted high and carried to the stands to greet their victory and glory.

There, Headmaster Dumbledore was standing with a huge Quidditch trophy in his hand.

As for the Slytherins - the losers were unnoticed, and they had to flee back to the locker room.

"Well done, Harry!"

Clarke gave a round of applause to Harry as he held the trophy aloft, an honor for all Gryffindors.

A group of excited children gathered the Quidditch players in the middle and welcomed them back to the common room with the trophy.

There, a grand celebratory party awaited them.

The feast lasted until midnight, with students from other houses coming to visit the door along the way.

Professor McGonagall, who has always been strict about this indiscipline, chose to turn a blind eye to this violation and returned to the office early so that the students could have a more relaxed time.

But by one o'clock in the morning, even those who had the most energy were already exhausted.

At Percy's urging, the party dispersed completely, and some students from other houses immediately joined in, and silence returned to the lounge.

Harry and Ron go upstairs to sleep in the dormitory, only to find that Clark is already asleep.

Exhausted, Harry climbed into bed, wrapped the four-poster bed in a curtain, blocked the bright moonlight, and fell asleep in a short time.

Everything seemed so normal, until—in the darkness, a pair of bright, glowing eyes suddenly opened.

Clark was asleep, of course, but he woke up shortly after Harry and the others lay down.

Listening to the slight snoring in his ears, Clarke, who woke up, lifted the quilt and sat up, if Harry hadn't slept at this time, he must have seen that he was sleeping in his clothes.

Clark waved open the door to his dorm room, and without making a sound, he descended the stairs and returned to the common room.

At this time, the lounge was empty, and some of the garbage left behind by the party had been magically cleaned up, but some residual traces of the carnival could still be seen in the corners and corners.

Clark waved his hand to straighten the crooked couch, rekindled the dim flame in the fireplace that was about to be extinguished, and then set the kettle on the fire and boiled the water.

The copper kettle hung from the red charcoal fire, and soon white smoke came out of the "whirring".

Clark used the boiling water to make two cups of strong tea, and then sat quietly on the sofa and leisurely sipped the tea.

Time passed minute by minute, and the night outside the window grew darker and darker, but Clark had no intention of resting at all, and sat there until—

The portrait of the fat lady in the lounge squeaked and was opened from the outside.

Clark didn't look back, and the person who opened the door didn't seem to expect that there was still someone in the lounge staying here at such a late hour, not going to sleep.

"Who? Who's where? ”

The visitor asked first, only to see a warm fire burning in the fireplace in the common room, and an extra coffee table in front of the fireplace, on which were placed two cups of strong tea, and the heat was still emitted.

On the couch in front of the fireplace, sat a little wizard with his back to him, his head bowed, not knowing what he was doing.

"It's me."

The visitor seemed to hear Clark's voice, and hurriedly said, "It's Clark, why haven't you slept yet?" ”

Clark didn't respond, and the man behind him said, "Clark, if it's okay, I'll go up first, I'm really sleepy tonight, and the photos of the Quidditch match have been washed up to now." ”

As he spoke, a light footstep sounded behind Clarke, who walked in the direction of the dormitory stairs.

However, just as the footsteps were about to disappear on the stairs, Clarke, who had been sitting on the sofa drinking tea, suddenly spoke.

"Mr. Black, I've got all the tea ready, won't you sit down and have a drink first?"

The footsteps stopped, and the whole common room fell into oppressive silence, except for the firewood in the fireplace, which crackled and crackled slightly.

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