NOVEL WEB Chapter 112: Quidditch Match
The day had finally arrived—the one every student had been waiting for, especially Oliver Wood. Today wasn't just any Quidditch match; it was the match. Gryffindor versus Slytherin—the fiercest rivalry in Hogwarts history.
Excitement buzzed in the air as the stands filled with eager students and staff. Months of practice had led to this moment, and Gryffindor had two new players to show off. Everyone whispered about them—especially him.
"Welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season!" Lee Jordan's voice boomed across the stadium through the magical amplifiers, brimming with energy. "It's Gryffindor versus Slytherin! And this year, keep your eyes on the pitch, folks—two rookies you won't want to miss! First up—our very own Harry Potter. Yes, the Harry Potter, playing Seeker for Gryffindor! And Katie Bell joins the Chasers!"
The crowd roared, students waving banners and shouting over each other. Beside Lee, Professor McGonagall sat stiffly, though her bright eyes betrayed her excitement. She looked like a cat about to pounce on a ball of yarn.
Around them, the other professors sat in their seats. Snape watched, face unreadable, his black robes drawn tight. Professor Quirrell fidgeted beside him, muttering under his breath, his hands never straying far from his odd, wrapped turban. Sprout, Flitwick, and the others leaned forward as Madam Hooch stepped onto the pitch.
A shrill whistle cut through the air. The balls were released—the Quaffle shot skyward, the Bludgers tore through the sky like cannonballs, and fourteen players kicked off the ground.
Harry gripped his Nimbus Two Thousand—a gleaming broomstick sent by his father for making it to the Gryffindor team. His heart raced as the wind whipped through his messy black hair. His green eyes scanned the pitch, nerves fading as adrenaline took over.
"And they're off! Angelina Johnson in possession—Katie Bell to the left, Alicia Spinnet to the right!" Lee's voice cracked with excitement.
Angelina wove expertly around Cassia Valentine before tossing the Quaffle to Katie. Small but fast, Katie ducked under Gideon Stroud's arm and shot forward like a streak of light.
"Bell's weaving through Slytherin like they're statues!" Lee shouted.
Katie passed to Alicia, who looped it back. Katie snatched it midair, twisted—
GOAL!
The Gryffindor stands erupted with cheers as the Quaffle soared cleanly through the middle hoop, past Slytherin Keeper Flint.
"Ten points to Gryffindor! What a debut for Katie Bell!"
But Slytherin wasn't backing down. Their Chasers responded quickly. Rowan Harker—a broad-shouldered seventh-year—charged down the pitch, shoving Alicia aside with a sharp, legal check. The Quaffle flew toward the Gryffindor hoops.
Oliver Wood dove, fingertips brushing the leather—but missed.
"Ten-all," Lee announced.
The match grew fiercer. Fred and George Weasley patrolled the air like hawks, sending Bludgers screaming toward the Slytherins. One nearly clipped Marlow Greaves, the Slytherin Seeker, who hovered high, eyes darting for the Snitch.
Harry kept climbing. The wind roared in his ears, but his focus sharpened. He scanned the sky, waiting for a glimpse of gold.
Then—there it was. A flicker of gold near the Slytherin stands.
Harry dove.
"Potter's seen the Snitch!" Lee practically shouted.
But as Harry aimed for it, his broom jerked. Suddenly, it wasn't obeying him. It bucked and twisted beneath him like it had a mind of its own.
In the stands, Cael sat among the Gryffindor students, eyes narrowing. Beside him, Hermione clutched the rail, worry etched across her face.
"Cael, what's wrong with his broom?" she asked, eyes wide. "Is Harry in danger?"
"Something's definitely wrong," Cael muttered, watching closely. "But let's see what's happening first."
"Can't we stop the match? He should switch brooms!" Hermione said urgently.
Cael sighed. Her concern was obvious. "Alright… we'll do something. But first, keep your eyes on the crowd. If no one tampered with his broom before the match since it's always checked , the problem's happening now."
Hermione snatched the binoculars and scanned the stands. Her gaze sharpened. "Look—Snape and Professor Quirrell. They're both chanting something."
Cael's jaw tightened. He stood, pulling Hermione with him. "Time to make some trouble."
Hermione scrambled after him. "Where are we going?"
"To fix the problem… and maybe cause a little chaos," Cael said with a grin.
They slipped behind the professors' row. Cael carefully slipped a small enchanted prop under Quirrell's seat. The charm shimmered faintly as he adjusted it.
Once they backed away, Cael activated the device.
With a loud whoosh, Quirrell shot upward out of his seat, hands flying to his turban to keep it in place. The crowd burst into laughter as he hovered midair, spinning helplessly before tumbling back into the stands.
Hermione giggled, covering her mouth. "That was brilliant! But why was he trying to jinx Harry's broom?"
Cael shrugged. "Maybe he's a die-hard Slytherin fan."
Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled, the worry easing from her face as they turned back to the match.
"Potter's broom's steady again! He's going for the Snitch!" Lee shouted.
Harry dove, eyes locked on the golden ball, fingers outstretched.
Marlow slammed into him—an illegal hit—but Harry held on, teeth gritted.
The Snitch darted right, zipping toward the stands. Harry adjusted his grip, muscles burning, the broom humming beneath him.
One last burst of speed—and his hand closed around the fluttering Snitch.
The whistle blew.
The stadium erupted in deafening cheers.
"He's done it! Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins—170 to 40!"
Students poured from the stands, celebrating the long-awaited victory. Gryffindor had finally beaten Slytherin after last year's crushing defeat—and Harry Potter, the youngest Seeker in a century, was the star of the match.
Later, as Cael made his way toward the castle, a grin tugged at his lips. The sky darkened overhead, clouds rolling in. The wind picked up, and the faint rumble of thunder echoed across the grounds.
Finally—the storm he'd been waiting for.