Hogwarts: What wicked thoughts could a little wizard possibly have?

Chapter 59 The Ball Game

The sky was clear, and white clouds drifted lazily by.

The Quidditch pitch, which is usually quiet, was packed with people today, with the stands of all four houses filled with fluffy little heads.

As Vaughn and his teammates entered the pitch, Slytherin erupted in cheers, and several upperclassmen conjured a serpentine firework that hissed and swirled in the air.

Many people in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were also holding banners with large, glittering gold lettering:

"Vaughn will win!"

When Vaughn saw Cedric and a few of his most familiar girls from Ravenclaw in the distance, he smiled and waved to them, which immediately drew another wave of cheers.

"Hello everyone, this is Lee Jordan, and I'll be your commentator today. Our dear Professor McGonagall will be overseeing things. Now, on the field is the Slytherin team. Look, Vaughn Weasley, this handsome fellow is driving the little witches crazy..."

"cough!"

"Sorry, Professor, the Gryffindor team is next..."

After the two teams took turns entering the field, the referee, Mrs. Hooch, who was standing in the center of the field, walked between the two teams with a flying broom.

"I hope everyone will compete fairly, honestly, and with a spirit of sportsmanship..." Madam Hooch glanced at the Slytherin team, where Flint grinned with his buck teeth in a foolish smile. Madam Hooch quickly turned away and began explaining the taboos.

Vaughn looked at Harry across from him, winked, and Harry returned his gaze with a rather defiant smile.

Poor child, you have no idea what you're going to experience soon.

"...Alright, everyone, please hop on your flying brooms."

Madam Huoqi took out a silver whistle, and with a whistle, fifteen flying brooms rose from the ground.

The game is on!

The red Quaffle was tossed high into the air, and the two teams immediately began scrambling for it.

Lee Jordan's commentary was amplified throughout the entire stadium by a magically activated microphone.

"...Now we can see that the game has started, and the competition is very intense. What do I see? Harry isn't participating in the team's attack; he's flying higher. Oliver Wood seems to have a tactic tailored for him, giving him a better view..."

"In contrast, Vaughn of the Weasleys is interfering with his brothers, Fred and George, dodging and weaving like lightning in front of them... Oh no! Fred tried to hit the runner to Vaughn, but Vaughn led it into Angelina Jensen's attack path. She was closest to the Quaffle, but the Slytherin stole it. How despicable..."

"Jordan!"

"Excuse me, Professor, I mean, it was a brilliant tactic, Vaughn made full use of his speed advantage... Oh, goal! Slytherin leads 10-0!"

A strong wind blew in, making his robes flutter. Wearing windproof goggles, Vaughn turned around and held up one finger to the twins.

The twins were very upset.

Harry looked down anxiously from high above. His team had fallen behind at the start of the game, which made him very anxious, but he didn't see any golden light.

He wanted to go down and help, to participate in the team's offense or defense like Vaughn did.

But Wood gestured to him to execute the tactics—he was too thin and small to compete.

Vaughn was still darting back and forth through the crowd.

He placed both feet on the broomstick footrests, half-crouched, his cloak billowing behind him, and swiftly passed in front of Angelina, the Gryffindor Chaser.

A black, wandering ball was attracted to him. When the ball accelerated to try and knock him down, he nimbly dodged it.

Angelina, who was following behind him, had to pause her attack again to avoid the ball from becoming its target.

She turned around and yelled at the twins, "What are you doing? Hitting that damn running ball!"

"...Too bad...I mean, too brilliant! Vaughn, with his darts, completely disrupted Gryffindor's formation. The Golden Snitch is still nowhere to be seen, Harry is still just watching, and Gryffindor simply can't compete! Is Wood's tactic really working?"

No one knows the answer.

Vaughn pushed the speed of Nimbus 2000 to its limit, making the Wandering Ball almost his plaything, futilely teasing him and causing Gryffindor a great deal of trouble.

Soon, Slytherin had taken a commanding 90-20 lead. Harry grew increasingly anxious in the air. He saw golden flashes a few times, but they were fleeting and he couldn't make out their trajectory.

Finally, after seeing the golden light again, Harry couldn't resist any longer. He pressed down on the handle and swooped down.

His unusual movement was immediately noticed by Vaughn, who had been paying close attention to him, and Vaughn gave Flint and Derian Purcell a hand gesture from a distance.

Lee Jordan's voice was also shouting:

"...What? Harry spotted the Golden Snitch? He's swooping down—oh no, Flint and Polsey have broken formation! What are they planning? Good heavens, they're accelerating towards Harry! Those two despicable, shameless, vile..."

"Jordan!"

"I'm sorry, Professor, thankfully they didn't actually hit Harry, but Harry was still stopped!"

"Foul! That's a foul!" Dean Thomas roared excitedly from the Gryffindor stands, yelling at Madam Hooch, "Give them a red card! Send them off!"

"Dean, this isn't football, this is a valid tackle in Quidditch."

Simo Finigan said speechlessly.

But the Gryffindor lion cubs were still worried about Harry, because the monstrous Flint and the towering Polsey had blocked Harry's path.

They brushed past him, interfering with his broom. Slytherins undoubtedly knew how to do dirty tricks; they kept faking their speed by bumping the tail of Harry's broom, preventing him from accelerating.

"Oh—poor Harry, he's like a puppet hanging in the air, being slapped around by two gorillas... Damn it, where's the referee? Referee! Flint's broom tail hit Harry in the face, didn't you see it?"

This time, Professor McGonagall unusually did not stop Lee Jordan.

Flint's increasingly inappropriate actions were clearly making her angry.

Unfortunately, the referee didn't see that moment; she was focused on the next round of Quaffle play.

Harry felt a sharp pain in his face, and his glasses were almost knocked off, which made him very angry, but he couldn't fight back. The physical strength of two sixth-year students was clearly beyond his ability to contend with.

Fred and George wanted to help him, but Vaughn stopped them again.

He always managed to cleverly lure the ball away, and then use his agile movements to dodge every attack from the ball, leaving the twins flustered and overwhelmed by the erratic movement of the ball.

Ron watched the fierce "battle" in the sky, his hands clenched tightly.

To his embarrassment, he didn't know who to cheer for, and Hermione, who was not far from him, was in the same predicament.

Seeing Harry nearly knocked over again, and Fred finally getting rid of Vaughn and rushing to his rescue, the two finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Ron roared, "Vaughn is despicable! Is he trying to kill Harry?"

Before Hermione could retort, a loud voice behind them said, "Vaughn isn't the captain; he's just carrying out the tactics."

"Hagrid? When did you get here?"

"Oh, I just arrived. Would you like to try the rock-skin cakes I brought?"

The two people who had tried it once before and almost knocked out their teeth were now reluctant to eat it again.