Malfoy immediately jumped to his feet.
"Hmph!"
His face filled with arrogance.
"It's just the Higgs family."
Then he proudly puffed out his chest.
"Their family only makes robes anyway. I'll have my father warn them."
Sean casually waved him off.
"You don't need to worry about that."
Then Sean looked directly at Malfoy.
"What you should worry about is training."
His tone became serious.
"You're under enormous pressure now."
"You'll need to train twice as hard as everyone else."
"Prepare yourself."
Malfoy and the others naturally didn't understand.
Behind Sean stood the entire Gringotts banking system.
Compared to Sean—
The Higgs family meant absolutely nothing.
Soon afterward, Sean led everyone toward the Quidditch pitch.
Several brooms floated nearby.
Marcus' eyes instantly widened.
"Nimbus 2000?!"
He nearly screamed.
"That's the newest broom on the market!"
"I heard it's as fast as the wind itself!"
Marcus immediately rushed over and mounted one excitedly.
Meanwhile, Sean stood quietly beside the field, feeling somewhat bored.
Because honestly—
Sean never thought Quidditch was a fair sport.
Not even remotely.
In Quidditch, once the Golden Snitch was caught, the game immediately ended.
And the team with the highest score won.
But here was the absurd part—
The Golden Snitch alone counted for one hundred and fifty points.
Equivalent to fifteen goals.
And the match itself had no time limit.
Which meant the entire game ultimately revolved around one position only.
The Seeker.
That was why the previous Seeker hated Sean replacing him.
Because the Seeker carried both the greatest glory and the greatest pressure.
Win—
And you became the hero.
Lose—
And you became the scapegoat.
That was why countless wizards obsessed over becoming Seekers.
But beneath all the excitement, Quidditch itself exposed the brutal nature hidden inside wizard society.
Originally, Quidditch didn't even use a Golden Snitch.
Long ago, wizards used a real magical bird instead.
The Golden Snidget.
Tiny.
Fast.
Fragile.
Once caught by Seekers travelling at terrifying speeds—
Most birds died instantly in their hands.
Eventually the species nearly became extinct.
Only then did magical conservationists force the Ministry to replace the living bird with a magical golden ball.
But even now—
The Snitch still retained the exact appearance of the original bird.
Almost nobody in the modern wizarding world had ever seen a real Golden Snidget anymore.
Just as Sean finished thinking about this—
The system referee announced the start of the match.
The Quaffle shot high into the air instantly.
Slytherin's Chaser immediately rushed upward to seize it.
But before he even touched the ball—
Two Chasers from the Chudley Cannons smashed into him simultaneously.
Bang!
The Slytherin player's eyes rolled backward immediately.
He fainted on the spot and fell directly toward the ground.
Only then did Sean lazily shout from the sidelines:
"Oh right."
"I forgot to mention something."
Everyone immediately looked toward him.
"Injuries here are real injuries."
Sean smiled faintly.
"And if you die here…"
"You actually die."
Instantly—
Marcus and the others broke into cold sweat.
Only now did they fully realise—
Quidditch wasn't some peaceful children's sport.
People genuinely died in professional matches.
After Sean's reminder, the Slytherin players became even more nervous.
Meanwhile, Malfoy had already spotted the Golden Snitch.
Without hiding his intentions at all, he immediately charged toward it.
Sean's mouth twitched.
"This idiot…"
Malfoy's behaviour practically screamed:
"Hey everyone! The Snitch is over here!"
Naturally, the opposing Seeker noticed immediately.
Then—
Boom!
The Cannons' Seeker smashed directly into Malfoy midair.
Malfoy himself flew farther than the broom.
He crashed headfirst into the sand below and dug a deep trench into the ground.
Sean's expression stiffened.
"In Quidditch…"
He sighed emotionally.
"The body flies ahead while the soul chases behind."
That fall definitely hurt badly.
If the field hadn't been covered in soft sand, Malfoy probably would've become Sean's first official cosmetic surgery customer.
And if the ground had been slightly harder—
Sean suspected Lucius Malfoy would soon be inviting him to dinner after a funeral.
"Match over."
A completely emotionless voice echoed throughout the arena.
"Chudley Cannons victory."
The professional team calmly returned to their original positions without celebration, waiting for the next match to begin.
Meanwhile, Malfoy lay on the ground crying miserably with tears and snot everywhere.
Sean genuinely worried the boy might suffocate himself crying.
The condition of the other players wasn't much better either.
Everyone carried injuries.
Some even limped while walking.
Sean glanced at them once before calmly speaking:
"You continue training."
"I'm going to read."
Then Sean casually found a quiet corner and pulled out a book.
Time passed quickly.
By the time everyone finally exited the training room, night had already fallen outside.
After escorting Hermione safely back toward Gryffindor Tower—
A wicked smile slowly appeared on Sean's face.
"Professor Snape…"
Sean quietly muttered.
"It's not that I want to steal your potions."
Then his smile widened slightly.
"The problem is that this poor student's household has run out of supplies."
Sean narrowed his eyes mischievously.
"You shouldn't mind me 'borrowing' a little from your collection."
.....
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