Quidditch match

The arrival of November also marks the official start of the Quidditch season for this academic year.

Today is the first Quidditch match of the school year, with Gryffindor facing Slytherin, promising plenty of excitement.

It's not just a showdown between two old rivals, but also the debut of the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts' history, and to top it off, the Seeker happens to be the highly talked-about Harry Potter!

No student would want to miss such a match, so the Quidditch pitch is already filled with students securing the best seats early in the morning.

An hour before the match begins, the stands are already bustling with excited students.

Today's weather is clear, but November in Britain is starting to get chilly, leaving Harry feeling cold and numb, despite the sunshine.

As a Quidditch player, Harry can afford to arrive at the pitch a bit later.

Right now, he's walking alone towards the players' changing room, his mind a jumble of thoughts, unable to discern if it's emptiness or chaos.

"I heard you didn't even have breakfast?"

A hand suddenly extends from beside him, holding out a piece of chocolate.

It's plain dark chocolate, more bitter than the others, but it brings him more joy than the sweetest chocolate could.

Harry instantly smiles, turning to see Professor Tewell smiling beside him.

"Professor!" He suddenly remembers something. "I, um, it's my first match today, so..."

Tewell places the chocolate in his hand.

"You still need to eat something, or you'll lack the energy to perform even if you have the heart to do so."

Watching him obediently take a bite, his expression a mix of pain and pleasure, Tewell laughs happily.

It doesn't have to be this bitter, but it's Professor Pomfrey's suggestion; she believes a little bitterness helps students remember things better.

"I have a friend who was a Seeker for the Quidditch team. On his first day, he was so nervous that he forgot how to fly and spent twenty minutes on the ground before getting on his broom."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at this.

He could imagine a Seeker, struggling on the ground for so long before finally taking off. At least he wasn't that bad.

"But that game ended in thirty minutes because my friend caught the Golden Snitch in just ten minutes."

"Even now, at the age of fourteen, he's already a Demelstrand, the best Seeker in their country."

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise, chocolate residue clear on his teeth, but his eyes were filled with admiration.

So even someone as skilled as him could be nervous at first!

"Alright," said Tewell, escorting Harry to the changing room and patting him on the shoulder.

"Go in there and show everyone the debut of Hogwarts' future top Seeker."

Watching the dazed Harry disappear, Tewell turned and headed for the spectator stands.

He hadn't planned on coming to the match today. He wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch, at least not enough to study badges.

But he suddenly remembered that in the plot, Quirrell would go after Harry today. He was worried that he might change the plot and harm Harry in another way, so he came to escort him.

To be honest, he still couldn't figure out why Quirrell would go after Harry.

If something happened to Harry now, Dumbledore would definitely become suspicious.

It wouldn't matter if Quirrell got caught; it would be worse if he was found out.

The only reasonable explanation he could think of was that this was an order from Voldemort himself.

Only he would harbor such deep hatred towards Harry.

Arriving at the stands, Professor Flitwick stood on his seat, waving frantically to Tewell. Professor McGonagall was also sitting nearby, but her attention was on the players who were already on the field. Tewell only snapped out of his thoughts when he sat down beside her.

"Why are you so late?" Professor McGonagall casually asked.

Only when she arrived at her favorite Quidditch pitch would she not be as serious and formal as usual.

"Just a little delay."

They chatted aimlessly, and suddenly, a sharp whistle sounded in the middle of the pitch, and the fourteen players from both Quidditch teams mounted their brooms and flew into the sky.

At the same time, the game balls followed suit.

Accompanied by the cheers of the young wizards, the match officially began.

Tewell really didn't understand Quidditch. Even though he had a friend who was proficient in Quidditch at Demelstrand, he only had a vague understanding of the rules.

Fortunately, there was Professor McGonagall, a former Quidditch player from many years ago.

Few people knew that Professor McGonagall was a Gryffindor player and even served as captain during her time at Hogwarts.

It was only in her seventh year that she had to give up her greatest passion due to a nearly fatal match.

However, her love for Quidditch remained undiminished, although she now detested unsportsmanlike Quidditch moves even more.

"Are they a bunch of trolls? Do they only know how to ram into opponents with their bodies?"

"Flint is attacking players with his bat! Referee, get this bastard off the pitch!"

"Oh my goodness, that despicable kid just elbowed my player!"

Professor McGonagall muttered angrily to herself, her excited fists hammering her thighs. Yeah, she seemed to hate it very much.

Professor Flitwick was not surprised by this.

"Minerva just gets passionate when it comes to Quidditch, but other than that, she's usually quite serious."

"What about you? You don't seem very interested in Quidditch?"

"If your students are casual about Quidditch, you'll be as calm as I am."

But at that moment, Professor McGonagall let out a loud gasp.

"What's wrong with Potter?!"

Tewell and Flitwick stopped their idle chatter and turned to look.

Harry's broom suddenly seemed like a wild horse off its reins, tossing and turning in the air, trying to shake Harry off.

In just a moment, Harry was thrown off, with only his hands tightly gripping the broom to prevent himself from falling.

Soon, everyone noticed his situation and exclaimed in shock, just like Professor McGonagall.

"Someone must have tampered with Potter's broom!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed loudly.

His booming voice drowned out the students' exclamations and redirected everyone's attention to the issue with the broom.

"It's impossible. Flying brooms are very sophisticated alchemical devices, with more protective magic inside than I've ever seen!" a senior student immediately rebutted upon noticing that it was Professor Flitwick who spoke.

But realizing this, he quickly corrected himself, "Of course, Professor, you must be more correct."

Tewell chuckled and shook his head.

He glanced at Quirrell's position not far away, sitting at the back, muttering to himself.

Not only him, but Snape in front was also muttering incantations.

But one was casting a spell, the other was undoing it.

If Snape just turned his head, he would naturally notice something amiss with Quirrell and scare off his magic.

It was probably due to concern that Snape abandoned his observation of the surroundings because of Harry's accident.

At this moment, a fire suddenly broke out on the seats of the staff stand, causing chaos among the professors on this side.

But these flames behaved obediently in Tewell's hands, jumping into the sky and disappearing with the flick of his wand.

After doing all this, he blinked at the crouching Hermione, startling the young witch.

At this moment, the students erupted into cheers—Harry, who had remounted his broom, caught the Golden Snitch!

Although it was a bit embarrassing, and he almost swallowed the Snitch, Harry ultimately helped Gryffindor defeat Slytherin!