Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

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"Gryffindor is on the field!"

This time, the Quidditch commentator, Lee Jordan, shouted loudly.

"Porter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Wesley Brothers and Wood, it's widely considered the best Hogwarts team in years—"

Lee Jordan's comments were drowned out by a burst of boos from Slytherin's side.

"The Slytherins also came on, and they were led by captain Flint, who seemed to have made some adjustments to the lineup and seemed more focused on size than skill-"

The boos from Slytherin were louder, but Clark looked at the situation on the court and thought that Lee Jordan had a point.

Malfoy, at least, was obviously the smallest on their team, and the rest of the players were tall, more like rugby players than Quidditch players.

"Captains, shake hands!" said Mrs. Hooch.

Flint and Wood stepped forward and held each other's hands tightly, as if they wanted to snap each other's fingers.

"Get on the broom!" said Mrs. Hooch. "Three-two-one-"

Her whistle was drowned out by the cheers of the audience, and fourteen brooms instantly rose into the air, turning into streaks of lightning, criss-crossing the air.

In the beginning, the game was still in a normal state of development.

"Now the Quaffle is on Gryffindor's side and Arya Spinnet has the ball and heads straight for Slytherin's goal, looking good, Arya!"

"Ah, no - the Quaffle was intercepted by Warrington."

"Slytherin's Warrington went on a rampage - wow! - George Weiss came and played this Bludger beautifully, Warrington dropped the Quaffle, it was - it was taken by Johnson, Grid Lanffindor has the ball again."

"Come on, Angelina—beautiful, past the monte—be careful, Angelina, walk away!"

"—she scored! Ten to zero, the Gryffindor pair lead!"

Lee Jordan's commentary was ridiculously fast, and Angelina, who had just hit a shot, circled one end of the court, gliding past Clark and the others, waving her fists proudly, causing the bright red ocean below to cheer—

"Ouch!"

Angelina nearly fell off her broom when Slytherin captain Marcus Flint hit her hard.

"Sorry!"

"Sorry, I didn't see her," Flint said to the boos from the audience.

Of course, there was no regret or embarrassment in his tone.

In the face of the opponent's provocation, the members of the Gryffindor team are not vegetarian.

After a while, Fred Weiss came and tapped Flint's head with his bat, and Flint's nose hit the broom handle, bleeding.

"enough!"

Madam Hooch shouted sharply, swooping between them.

"Slytherin unprovoked attack on the opponent's Chaser, free throw by Gryffindor!

Gryffindor deliberately hurt Chaser, Slytherin free throw! "

Mrs. Huo Qi was furious for their unscrupulous means, but even the punishment could not stop the smell of gunpowder between the two colleges. The above are just appetizers.

Soon, there was a trend towards Quidditch brawls as the game continued.

It's basically impossible to verify who did it first, but when the Quaffle flew to Gryffindor, Slytherin's Chaser Monta didn't go to catch the Quaffle, but reached out. Grabbed Katie's head.

Katie flipped somersaults in the air, still firmly on the broom, but the ball fell.

Mrs. Hooch's whistle went off again, and she rose to Monty and began to yell at him.

A minute later, Katie passed the Slytherin goalkeeper and scored another penalty. .

This penalty cost Slytherin a big loss, and was overtaken by Gryffindor 30-0 by three goals.

Of course they quit, and the two batsmen had their sights set on Harry, in addition to rampaging when they were grabbing the ball.

In addition to hitting Harry with two Bludgers in a row, they all raised their bats and flanked Harry.

Fortunately, Harry turned around the Firebolt at the last second and rose rapidly, and then avoided the blows of the two.

But just because he can dodge, doesn't mean his teammates can dodge.

Slytherin's Bol hit Arya with a bat again, arguing that she thought she was a Bludger.

Then George Weiss returned fire, elbowing Bol in the face in retaliation.

Not to be outdone, Bol and Derek of the Slytherin team took advantage of George and Fred to protect Harry and took the opportunity to hit Wood with two Bludgers, hitting him in the stomach one after the other.

Wood rolled in the air, clutching his broom tightly, seemingly struggling to breathe.

…

Clark couldn't help shaking his head as he watched what was happening on the court.

This can be said to be the dirtiest game Clarke has ever seen. It is worthy of the United Kingdom, which is known as the country of football hooligans. Even the wizarding world has learned the characteristics of the Muggle world football players.

Of course, compared to a certain foot who eats sea cucumber every day and still has weak legs, it is at least a fighting spirit to dare to fight hard.

Harry had spotted the Snitch in the arena by this time, and the little thing was shining twenty feet above his head.

The audience saw Harry speeding up, hundreds of pairs of eyes were fixed on him instantly, and Hermione, who was sitting beside Clark, held his hand tightly.

"come on! Come on!"

The Gryffindor fans were almost hoarse, and Harry leaned over to accelerate, the wind whistled in his ear, he stretched out his right hand, and his heart almost jumped to his throat, almost.

But suddenly, he found that his Firebolt slowed down—

Harry was startled, and when he looked back, he saw that it was Malfoy who jumped up and grabbed the Firebolt's tail, pulling it back.

"You—" Harry was so angry he wanted to punch Malfoy, but couldn't.

The spectators who were shouting and cheering saw such a situation, and they yelled at Malfoy and booed.

Malfoy didn't care what other people thought, though. He was panting from the Firebolt, but his eyes gleamed maliciously.

He had achieved his purpose - the Golden Snitch had disappeared.

"Free throws! Gryffindor free throws! I've never seen anything done like this!" screamed Madam Hooch, swooping up as Malfoy slid back to his Nimbus 2001.

"Shameless hooligan!" Lee Jordan, who was the commentator of the game, roared at the microphone and jumped to a place where Professor McGonagall couldn't reach him. "Despicable, shameless bastard—"

Professor McGonagall didn't bother to stop him, and even she herself shook her fist in Malfoy's direction and shouted angrily.

On the Slytherin side, instead of being ashamed of Malfoy's foul, they were delighted and praised and encouraged him, which also led to Gryffindor's mental imbalance and conceded two goals in a row. .

Fortunately, everything is still under control, and the match point is still on the Seeker.

Harry and Malfoy both stared at each other very closely, their knees often touched, Malfoy used dirty tricks on Harry, and Harry wouldn't let Malfoy approach the Snitch from any direction...

"Go away, Potter!" Malfoy yelled helplessly, as he tried to turn the corner, only to find Harry blocking his way.

"Come on, hurt each other!" Harry yelled.

The two entangled with each other for a while, and then because Angelina of the Gryffindor team was surrounded by a group of Slytherin, Harry controlled the Firebolt to speed up and rushed in, making a way out for her.

"Harry shouldn't be distracted, this is a tactical mistake!" Clark in the stands suddenly expressed his opinion.

Sure enough, things went as Clark had said, and when Harry was distracted to help, Malfoy spotted the figure of the Snitch, swooping down with a triumphant look on his face.

Below him, a few feet above the lawn, was a tiny golden speck—

Seeing this scene, Harry's heart almost stopped beating, and he hurriedly urged the Firebolt to speed up the dive, but Malfoy was much closer than him, and he could only count on "money ability" now.

"Hurry up!"

Harry mobilized his Firebolt, which was worth every penny. This Firebolt was indeed the best (expensive) broomstick. Even if it was late, he gradually chased Malfoy.

In the process, Slytherin's batter, Bol, hit him with a Bludger, but he ducked on a broom handle.

And then - he got to Malfoy's ankle - he was side by side with Malfoy -

Victory was in sight, telling the flight that Harry lunged forward, letting go of his broomstick in both hands, and he blocked Malfoy's arms—

"Caught!"

Regardless of the danger, Harry risked his life to catch the Snitch first!

He straightened up, raised his hands in the air, and the stands were instantly boiling.

"what-"

Hermione's shrill screams came from Clark's ears, even if she was as sensible as she was, in this situation, she couldn't help being excited.

This is the charm of sports competition.

On the pitch, the Gryffindor players huddled together, shouted hoarsely, and fell back to the ground.

Scarlet torrents rushed over the fence into the pitch, and countless hands rained down on their backs.

Harry and the rest of the players were confronted by the crowd, lifted to the heights and carried to the stands for their victory and honour.

There, Headmaster Dumbledore was standing, holding a huge Quidditch trophy.

As for Slytherin - the losers are ignored, they can only flee back to the locker room.

"Nice job, Harry!"

Clark applauded Harry as he held the trophy, an honor that belongs to all Gryffindors.

A group of excited children surrounded the Quidditch players and, together with the trophy, welcomed them back into the common room.

There, there is a grand celebration party waiting for them.

This joyous feast lasted until midnight, with some students from other colleges stopping by in the middle.

For this kind of violation of discipline, Professor McGonagall, who has always been strict, chose to turn a blind eye and returned to the office early so that the students could play more relaxed.

But by one o'clock in the morning, no matter how energetic people are, they are already exhausted from playing.

Under Percy's urging, the party completely dissipated, and some students from other colleges also immediately returned to silence in the lounge.

Harry and Ron went upstairs to sleep in the dormitory, only to find that Clark was already asleep.

Exhausted, Harry climbed into bed, tangled the curtain of the four-poster bed to block the bright moonlight, and fell asleep immediately.

Everything seemed to be so normal until—in the darkness, a pair of bright eyes that seemed to be exposed to electric light suddenly opened.

Clark fell asleep, of course, but he woke up again shortly after Harry and the others lay down.

Hearing the slight snoring in his ears, Clark, who woke up, lifted the quilt and sat up. If Harry and the others hadn't slept at this time, they must have seen that he was sleeping with his clothes on.

Clark waved his hand to open the dormitory door, walked down the stairs without making a sound, and returned to the common room.

At this time, the lounge was empty, and some of the garbage left by the party just now had been cleaned up by magic, but there were still traces of carnival left in the corners.

Clark waved the sloping sofa back into position, rekindled the dark flames in the fireplace that were about to go out, and then put the water bottle on the fire again and started boiling water.

The copper kettle was hung on the crimson charcoal fire, and soon white smoke came out "huhu".

Clark brewed two cups of strong tea with the boiling water, then sat quietly on the sofa and sipped the tea leisurely.

Time passed by minute by minute, and the night outside the window was getting darker and darker, but Clark had no intention of resting at all, so he just sat there until—

With a creak, the portrait of the fat lady in the lounge was opened from the outside.

Clark didn't look back, and the person who opened the door didn't seem to have thought that, so late, there were still people in the lounge who didn't go to sleep.

"Who? Who's where?"

The visitor asked first. He only saw a warm fire burning in the fireplace in the common room. There was a coffee table in front of the fireplace. There were two cups of strong tea on the coffee table. Exudes heat.

On the sofa in front of the fireplace, sat a little wizard, with his back to himself, his head bowed, not knowing what he was doing.

"it's me."

The visitor seemed to have heard Clark's voice and said quickly, "It's Clark, why haven't you slept yet?"

Clark didn't respond, and the person behind him said again: "Clark, if there's nothing else, I'll go up first. I'm so sleepy tonight. The photos of the Quidditch match have been washed until now."

After saying that, a light footstep sounded behind Clark, walking towards the direction of the dormitory stairs.

However, just as the footsteps were about to disappear on the stairs, Clark, who had been sitting on the sofa drinking tea, suddenly said.

"Mr. Blake, I have all the tea ready, won't you sit down and have a drink first?"

The footsteps stopped, and the entire common room fell into oppressive silence, only the firewood in the fireplace made a slight crackling sound.