Three days passed swiftly, and the final showdown between Gryffindor and Slytherin was about to begin. The day was sunny with a gentle breeze, as if even the heavens had prepared for this decisive match.
Early in the morning, the Great Hall seemed more crowded than usual. For Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, although they had been eliminated, witnessing this pivotal match was an unmissable opportunity.
Augustus and his companions entered the stands as cheers erupted across the stadium. Surprisingly, most of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students were wearing badges with the emblem of the green serpent. Soon, the badges transformed, displaying messages like "Victory for Slytherin" and "Augustus Takes the Cup!"
Draco Malfoy frowned, visibly annoyed as he noticed the banners in the stands. "Seriously, we are supposed to be the main characters here. Why are they holding signs about Augustus taking the cup? These brainless fans are hopeless."
Loki smirked dismissively. "Without Augustus' reputation, three-quarters of the crowd would probably be wearing crimson roses and waving scarlet banners featuring Gryffindor's lion. Or worse, holding signs that say 'Gryffindor Triumphs!' or 'The Lions Take the Cup!' Which would you prefer?"
"Well, I guess I should get ready. The weather's quite nice today," Draco muttered, coughing lightly before leaving the stands.
As Malfoy headed to the locker room to change, the Gryffindor team had already entered the pitch.
"Here comes the Gryffindor team!" Lee Jordan shouted enthusiastically as he resumed his role as commentator. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, the Weasley twins, and Wood. Widely regarded as one of the finest teams Hogwarts has seen in years!"
His commentary was drowned out by a wave of boos from the crowd.
"And now, the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint! It seems they've prioritized physical size over skill this time!"
The jeers from the Slytherin side were even louder. Augustus observed that the Slytherin players were indeed bulkier overall. Malfoy, the smallest among them, appeared almost out of place next to his towering teammates.
"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch ordered.
Flint and Wood stepped forward, gripping each other's hands so tightly it seemed as if they wanted to crush each other's fingers.
"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch blew her whistle. "Three… two… one…"
Fourteen broomsticks shot into the sky amidst the deafening roars of the crowd.
Draco quickly drew his wand, casting a Grace of the Wind spell on himself and a Swift Agility charm on his broom. The enhancements noticeably brought the speed and agility of his Cleansweep 2001 closer to matching Harry's Firebolt. Keen to show off his enhanced abilities, Draco began circling Harry at dizzying speeds, leaving trails of afterimages in the air.
"It seems Malfoy has cast some sort of buffing spell on himself. His Cleansweep 2001 is now moving as fast as a Firebolt! I demand an immediate halt to this match!" Lee Jordan exclaimed indignantly. "This blatant use of magic is nothing short of cheating—a disgrace to Quidditch!"
However, Madam Hooch ignored Lee's protest, signaling that Malfoy's actions did not break any rules. The match continued.
"Alright, let's focus on the game," Lee sighed before resuming his commentary. "The Quaffle is with Gryffindor. Spinnet is charging straight for the Slytherin goalposts—looking good, Alicia! Wait, no—Warrington intercepts! He's racing down the pitch—oh! A beautiful Bludger from George Weasley! Warrington drops the Quaffle, and Johnson takes possession! Go, Angelina—yes, she dodges Montague brilliantly—dives—and scores! Ten-nil to Gryffindor!"
Angelina flew a lap around the pitch, pumping her fist triumphantly as a sea of crimson erupted in cheers below.
"The key to Slytherin's victory lies with Malfoy," Lillian remarked, watching the game closely. "If he can use wind magic to capture the Golden Snitch, Slytherin still has a chance—provided the score doesn't widen too much."
"Indeed," Thor nodded. "While Potter's Firebolt gives Gryffindor a clear equipment advantage, wind-based magic is renowned for speed and maneuverability. If Malfoy can capitalize on it, he has a real shot at winning the Snitch."
Meanwhile, chaos erupted on the field as Marcus Flint nearly knocked Angelina off her broom.
"Sorry!" Flint called out mockingly, drawing a chorus of boos from the stands. "Didn't see her there!"
Fred Weasley retaliated by lightly tapping Flint on the back of his head with his bat. Flint's nose collided with his broomstick, starting to bleed.
"That's enough!" Madam Hooch shouted, soaring between the players. "Gryffindor, penalty for unprovoked aggression! Slytherin, penalty for intentional endangerment!"
Fred protested loudly, but Madam Hooch's whistle silenced him.
"Fascinating," Loki remarked from the stands, watching the heated exchanges. "Even in sports, dirty tricks and underhanded tactics never seem to go out of style. At least Quidditch doesn't have 'hooligans.' That's refreshing."
Suddenly, a glint of gold appeared in the sky. With his magically enhanced vision, Draco immediately spotted the Golden Snitch. Calmly assessing the situation, he waited for the Snitch to draw closer to the midpoint between himself and Harry.
In a split second, Malfoy streaked past Harry, his Cleansweep 2001 shooting toward the Snitch like a rocket.
Harry froze for a moment, then quickly spotted the Snitch and adjusted his Firebolt's angle to give chase. The two racers became indistinct blurs of green and red streaking through the sky.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy, with students and teachers alike rising to their feet. The match had reached its climax. The fate of this year's Quidditch Cup hung in the balance.
Who would claim the Snitch? The answer was moments away.
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