The Quidditch Pitch was in an absolute uproar.
Today marked the highly anticipated match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. As players from both teams emerged from the locker rooms and waved to the crowd, the cheers instantly ignited. The roar of the students surged like a tidal wave, pushing the atmosphere to its absolute peak.
Damian wasn't playing today. Because Slytherin's starting Beater, Perkin McNeill, had finally healed from his injuries, Damian had been relegated to the stands to watch with his roommates.
Beside Geralt sat his brand-new girlfriend, Lisa, a fifth-year Ravenclaw.
Jerry leaned over and shouted over the stadium noise. "Geralt, which team are you supporting?!"
"Of course, I'm supporting—" Geralt suddenly shuddered. He caught his girlfriend smiling sweetly at him and frantically corrected himself. "Both teams! We're all from Hogwarts, aren't we?"
Lisa withdrew her gaze, looking perfectly satisfied. Jerry just shot the fickle traitor a look of pure contempt.
Up in the commentator's box, Gryffindor's Lee Jordan was once again on the microphone.
"Both teams are in position! We can see Slytherin has made a controversial substitution today, taking Damian Black off the field! One can't help but suspect some shady inner-house dealings—"
Catching a sharp, warning glare from Professor McGonagall, Lee hastily corrected himself.
"Er, actually, Slytherin's starting Beater, Perkin McNeill, has recovered from his injury! Let's see how the full-strength Slytherin squad performs today. Madam Hooch is stepping up—the match is about to begin!"
At the center of the pitch, Madam Hooch tossed the Quaffle high into the air and blew her silver whistle.
Both teams kicked off the ground. Ravenclaw's Chaser was the swiftest, snatching the Quaffle right out of the gate.
"The first to the Quaffle is Ravenclaw!" Lee Jordan roared. "But Slytherin's two Chasers are immediately bracketing her—she can't hold on!"
"Oh, what's this? A Bludger rockets directly at the Ravenclaw Chaser! She barely dodges, but the rogue ball completely shatters the Slytherin pincer! Both Slytherin Chasers have to veer off to avoid being brained by their own Bludger!"
"That hit came from Perkin McNeill, the starting Beater who replaced Black!" Lee announced gleefully. "Is he trying to copy Damian's aggressive blitz tactics? Alas, Perkin's swing achieved absolutely nothing! He just helped the Ravenclaw Chaser slip the trap!"
Seizing the moment her pursuers scattered to dodge the friendly fire, the Ravenclaw Chaser burst free and streaked toward the goal posts.
In Quidditch, if a Chaser breaks away early, they can target the hoop farthest from the opposing Keeper. If the Keeper can't cross the pitch in time, it's an effortless score—a classic quick-strike.
"Ravenclaw quick-strike successful! Ten points to Ravenclaw!" Lee Jordan cheered loudly.
Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint looked absolutely furious. He had been one of the Chasers closing the pincer, only to be foiled by his own teammate.
"Perkin, did your stay in the Hospital Wing completely rust your brain?!" Marcus snapped, flying past him. "Watch your aim! Don't just blindly whack every ball you see!"
Perkin nodded gloomily, equally displeased with himself. He had only meant to tag the opposing Chaser, but after a month stuck in bed, his timing was embarrassingly off.
During the next few exchanges, Perkin failed to find a solid opening, and his anxiety quickly spiked into frustration.
While lying in the Hospital Wing, he had been forced to listen to endless praise regarding Damian's incredible exploits on the pitch. Perkin seethed internally. He stubbornly believed that Slytherin's overall team strength deserved most of the credit for those wins. He was convinced he could do just as well as the upstart reserve.
Although Perkin was only newly recruited to the team this year, he trained with fanatical obsession. In fact, overworking himself during practice was exactly what had caused the injury that benched him in the first place.
He refused to believe a reserve player who barely attended practice could possibly be better than him. All his agonizing effort couldn't go to waste.
Suddenly spotting a golden opportunity, Perkin aggressively darted ahead of the Ravenclaw Beater. Swinging his bat with all his might, he cracked the Bludger, sending it rocketing toward the Ravenclaw Keeper.
But before he could even celebrate the shot, the blood completely drained from his face.
The Bludger wildly missed the Keeper—and slammed squarely into Marcus Flint just as the Slytherin Captain was winding up to shoot.
Luckily, Marcus managed to steady his violently bucking broom before he plummeted to the ground. Otherwise, Perkin would have single-handedly knocked his own Captain out of the sky.
Marcus's expression turned instantly murderous. He flew straight toward Madam Hooch and called an immediate time-out, furiously demanding a substitution.
Damian, who was already fully dressed in his Slytherin Quidditch kit, calmly mounted his broom and returned to the pitch.
The stands instantly erupted into a deafening chant. "Black! Black! Black!" Damian smiled and offered a casual wave to the crowd, guiding his broom smoothly to mid-pitch.
Up in the stands, Lee Jordan's excitement visibly soared. "Time-out is over! The dazzling Damian Black is back on the field! Can he turn this messy game around?"
"What kind of spectacle will he give us today?" Lee shouted into the megaphone. "Let's wait and see! Play resumes!"
As soon as the whistle blew, Damian kicked his broom into a steep, aggressive climb, racing directly for a rogue Bludger.
Just as he violently batted the heavy iron ball toward a Ravenclaw Chaser, Damian felt his broom severely lurch beneath him. The wood shuddered violently. Instead of leveling out, the broom kept surging higher, dragging him up to a dizzying altitude.
"Damian seems set to show us that brutal blitz style again! He's just launched a perfectly aimed Bludger at the Ravenclaw Chaser—"
Lee Jordan suddenly gasped over the commentary. "Wait, what is he doing?"
"Look! Damian is rocketing straight up into the sky! Is this some crazy new Beater tactic?" Lee wondered aloud.
A few seconds later, the commentator's voice cracked. "Oh no—something's wrong! He's careening out of control up there! Has his broom gone haywire?!"
Lee Jordan went deathly pale, shrieking into the microphone. "Merlin's beard—what's happening?!"
Damian's broom spun completely out of control, whipping wildly through the freezing air. Then, Damian's expression dropped.
Through his magical sense, he felt the core of the broom suddenly erupt in a violent, chaotic magical flux.
A deafening BOOM echoed across the entire stadium.
High above the pitch, the racing broom violently exploded. A massive blast of fire and splintered wood instantly swallowed Damian's silhouette.
The roaring stands fell deathly silent, as though someone had pressed pause on the entire world. Thousands of students stared, completely stunned, up at the sky.
The pitch remained hushed for three agonizing heartbeats. Then, the stadium erupted into sheer, unadulterated screams.
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