Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

Marcus Flint picked up the letter from his package and skimmed it, a flicker of disdain crossing his face.

Just then, the sounds of boisterous laughter echoed from the hallway. The voices startled Flint, prompting him to hurriedly stow the vial of potion back into his locker. He crumpled the letter haphazardly and shoved it in as well, though a corner stuck out, revealing a name written on it: Wentworth.

The weekend arrived, bringing with it the long-anticipated first Quidditch match of the new school year.

This year's opening game featured Hufflepuff against Slytherin.

To prepare for the match, Wentworth and Cedric had requested a day off from their usual studies with Professor Lupin, who jokingly remarked, "I can practically hear a stack of Galleons flying away from me."

Even before the match began, the Quidditch stands were packed with students from both houses. Hufflepuff and Slytherin supporters waved their scarves and banners, chanting and cheering enthusiastically for their respective teams. Though the players had yet to take the field, the rivalry between the two houses was already on full display.

Inside the Hufflepuff locker room, the team was making their final preparations. Kirk sat upright, exuding an air of authority as he addressed Wentworth.

"Wentworth, listen up. For your first match, the most important thing is not to get nervous! Your sole focus should be on the Golden Snitch. Leave everything else to your older teammates."

Wentworth shot Kirk a sideways glance, noticing the latter's incessantly bouncing leg. With a sigh, he replied,

"Kirk, it'd be easier to follow your advice about staying calm if you'd stop shaking your leg. I wasn't nervous before, but now you've got me jittery."

Kirk waved a dismissive hand.

"Don't sweat the details, Wentworth!"

Nearby, Hufflepuff's Keeper smirked and chimed in,

"That's just Kirk's thing. Ever since his first Quidditch match, his leg's been shaking nonstop. Over the years, it's practically become a habit!"

Kirk turned and flicked the Keeper's forehead, eliciting a laugh rather than offense.

But then, Kirk's face grew serious as he locked eyes with Wentworth. The intensity of his gaze made Wentworth slightly uneasy. Finally, Kirk spoke in a grave tone.

"All right, Wentworth, enough joking around. Now I'm going to teach you the most important rule of the Quidditch pitch. You have to remember this."

Wentworth, sensing the gravity of the moment, straightened up and nodded attentively.

Satisfied, Kirk continued,

"On the Quidditch pitch, no matter what happens, always remember to protect yourself.

"No one wants their team to lose, and neither does Hufflepuff. But unlike the other houses, we prioritize ensuring no one gets hurt over winning. Do you understand?

"When you step onto that field, the roar of the crowd will make your blood boil. That's when you need to stay calm. Never forget to look after yourself first."

Moved by Kirk's earnest advice, Wentworth nodded solemnly in agreement.

At that moment, Madam Hooch's voice echoed from the locker room entrance.

"Time to take the field, boys! Don't keep your fans waiting!"

Kirk was the first to rise. Stretching out his hand, he called the team together. Wentworth and the rest of the Hufflepuff players gathered around, stacking their hands atop his.

"Hufflepuff!"

Their cheer reverberated through the locker room.

Meanwhile, in the Slytherin locker room, Madam Hooch's call had spurred the team into action. Players grabbed their broomsticks and headed out.

Uncharacteristically, Marcus Flint lingered behind, trailing at the back of the group.

"Marcus, what's taking so long? Hurry up!"

"I'm coming! Just tying my laces," Flint called back, his head bent down as he fumbled with his shoes.

Once the rest of the team had exited, Flint quickly opened his locker and retrieved the vial of potion from his bag. His breathing quickened as he uncorked the bottle and downed its contents in one gulp.

A wave of warmth surged through him, and his body felt invigorated, almost superhuman. Flint smirked, confidence radiating from him.

"I'll crush Hufflepuff today," he muttered before striding out to join his team.

Under Madam Hooch's guidance, the Hufflepuff and Slytherin players lined up and marched onto the pitch. The cheers from the stands erupted into a deafening roar as the players entered.

"At least we've already won something," Kirk remarked without turning back.

"What's that?" Wentworth asked, intrigued.

"Our cheering squad is louder than theirs!" Kirk replied with pride.

Before the game began, the players performed the customary handshake. Though the exchange was meant to be a formality, the glares exchanged by both sides were anything but friendly.

When Flint's hand gripped Wentworth's, he deliberately tightened his hold, making Wentworth gasp involuntarily. Though Wentworth suppressed any outward cry, the sharp intake of breath didn't escape Kirk's notice.

Kirk glanced over, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. Without hesitation, he shoved Flint hard in the shoulder.

"What's your problem?" Kirk growled.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Flint snapped back, stepping forward.

"You tell me!" Kirk retorted.

Tension crackled in the air as players from both teams began shoving and arguing. The match hadn't even started, but the rivalry was already boiling over.

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