"Listen up, lads," Roger said, his face etched with seriousness. "We won the
Quidditch Cup last year. That wasn't because every one of us was stronger than
the other teams, but because we were more united and more intelligent than any
of them! We were willing to draft a hundred sches and execute them exactly to
the plan!"
He gathered the team for one final pre-ga huddle.
"We prepared two masterfully complete strategies, both of which we've been
training on religiously. But now, everyone—forget those plans! Terminate the
defensive-counterattack sche! We attack! We attack, and we attack again! A
relentless, frenzied offensive will keep them too occupied to even notice our
Seeker—"
Roger's voice rose to a crescendo. "We will give everything we have for
Ravenclaw, and then, we will win that damned Quidditch Cup!"
The Ravenclaw Quidditch team was electric, their morale soaring to unprecedented
heights.
"Wood, Davies, shake hands," Madam Hooch commanded crisply. Wood and Roger
clasped hands, both narrowing their eyes as they assessed the other.
"Mount your brooms... wait for my whistle... three—two—one—"
Madam Hooch blew her whistle.
Sean mounted his broom with a gentle ease. The Nimbus 2001 felt faster and more
responsive than any other, soaring instantly into the air. Beside him, Harry sat
poised, alert as a soldier on the front lines.
"Good luck, Harry. I'll be giving it my all," Sean said, before transforming
into a streak of light against the horizon.
"I understand," Harry gritted his teeth, matching Sean's pace stride for stride.
The entire stadium watched as the two blurred into a frenzy of speed, whistling
high through the air.
"The match is underway, and the biggest thrill of the afternoon remains the
sa! Harry Potter and Mr. Sean Green! They've graced us with countless
spectacular duels before—yes, we all know it, they are absolute stars of
tomorrow; if anyone told they could play professionally, I'd be the first to
agree!" Lee Jordan nearly jumped out of his comntator's box.
"Jordan, can you please tell us what is actually happening in the match?"
Professor McGonagall's voice cut through. She looked more agitated than usual,
her binoculars fixed unblinkingly on the two Seekers.
"No problem, Professor—we can see Ravenclaw launching an offensive—rlin's
beard, it's a mad, chaotic assault!" Jordan cried out, frantic. "Roger Davies
nearly scored—are they out of their minds? If they keep this up, they'll run out
of stamina before the match is half over..."
In the stands, Lee Jordan guided the audience's attention; on the pitch, the two
flyers who moved a full level faster than the rest of the team drew the eyes of
every player. They were flying so fast that even the Beaters struggled to aim,
let alone the rest of the team, who had devolved into a frantic scramble.
"The Snitch has appeared! Sean Green is in the lead—he's too fast—Harry Potter
needs to get more aggressive, perhaps even try a little broom-bump on dear Mr.
Green—" Jordan suggested eagerly.
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall trembled as she scolded him.
"Ah, Professor—look! That was too close—Mr. Sean Green is within a finger's
breadth of catching the Snitch! Harry must take action—use your broom, your
tail, your elbow—" Lee Jordan leaned so far over the comntary stand he nearly
tumbled out. He hadn't noticed the displeased look on the Headmistress's face.
"Careful, that would be a disgraceful foul!" McGonagall warned loudly.
"Professor, there's no ti for that—no ti at all—"
McGonagall stared intently at the sky, feeling a rush of tension and excitent
she hadn't felt in years.
"Another miss!" Jordan scread. "Harry is finally taking action! He's
accelerating without regard for his own safety; the two of them are tangled
together, they've both lost their bearings—heavens, Harry recovered first—what a
magnificent opportunity—"
Jordan shouted in delight, while McGonagall looked on with concern.
"No—Green is coming back from behind—" Jordan's face soured, while McGonagall
surreptitiously clenched her fist in a cheer.
"It's coming down to the wire—it's about to be decided—both of them are pushing
their brooms to the absolute limit—collision, a turn, it's too fast, I can't
see—"
A whistle rang out across the entire pitch. Madam Hooch signaled that the Golden
Snitch had been caught. The stadium seed to stand still, everyone staring
skyward, awaiting the outco.
"Who? Who is it? It's Mr. Sean Green—oh!" Lee Jordan roared in frustration.
"Well done!" McGonagall didn't reprimand Jordan; she pumped her fist toward the
returning duo, shouting so loudly in excitent that her hat fell off.
"Professor?" Jordan looked stunned. Hadn't Gryffindor lost? Or were they not
rooting for Gryffindor?
The stadium erupted. Sean flew high above the crowd, a strange buzzing sound
ringing in his ears. He clutched the tiny, fluttering gold ball tightly in his
palm. He looked instantly toward Harry, who was flying back with a look of
chagrin until Sean drifted close.
"Just a fraction..." Harry muttered to himself.
"Yes, it was tight. You did a marvelous job, Harry," Sean admitted.
"Next ti, Sean. I'll be even stronger than I was today," Harry said, avoiding
Sean's gaze but speaking with fierce determination.
"I look forward to that day," Sean nodded.
As he turned back, he caught a glimpse of Professor McGonagall, who was still
excitedly pumping her fist. The Professor looked years younger, vibrant and
alive. "Well done," he knew that was what she was saying.
He shifted his gaze again, spotting Professor Snape with the corners of his
mouth turned upward in the slightest of nods, alongside an ecstatic Justin.
As soon as he touched down, Roger and Toya lunged at him, wrapping their arms
around his neck and screaming with unbridled joy. The rest of the team piled on:
"We've got the cup! We've got the cup!"
Countless arms intertwined; the Ravenclaw team huddled together, howling
hoarsely. A tide of blue flowed over the barriers and onto the pitch. Hand after
hand pounded their backs. In the chaos, Sean felt the weight of many voices and
bodies pressing in on him, and then, he and the other players were hoisted onto
the shoulders of the crowd.
He was elevated into the light. At that mont, Roger roared, hoarse and
passionate:
"The rcenary Plan was a total success! Ravenclaw's back-to-back championship!
We are the champions! We are the champions!"
Nearby, Justin and Hermione were pushing hard to get to Sean, with Harry dragged
along in their wake, all of them laughing excitedly. Sean was hoisted toward the
stands, where Dumbledore stood holding the massive Quidditch Cup.
☆☆☆
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