"Great shot!"
A brilliant goal by the Gryffindor House team drew a thunderous cheer from the supposedly neutral Ravenclaw stands—and Andrew suddenly stopped feeling guilty about rooting for Gryffindor.
Still, it was hardly surprising that Ravenclaw leaned that way—even Andrew, who wasn't particularly familiar with the rules of Quidditch, could tell that Slytherin played dirty.
Brazen fouls and collisions that bordered on outright assault—their style of play fit everyone else's stereotypes of Slytherin perfectly.
Still, honestly, that Gryffindor commentator called Jordan really has guts, joking like that with Professor McGonagall right beside him—though I suspect she's letting him get away with it...
Thanks to the commentator's quips, Andrew found the match quite entertaining.
Soon, however, the commentary drew everyone's attention to the Seekers. "It's the Golden Snitch!!!"
How long has the match even been going?
Andrew grumbled a little before focusing on the two Seekers—but something unexpected happened. Gryffindor's Seeker, Harry Potter, lost control of his broom.
Out of control? That sounds familiar... ah...
He couldn't remember the details, but there was no need to think too hard—Professor McGonagall was still at the pitch, and a brand-new broom had gone out of control. There was only one possible explanation.
It's Voldemort...
No, it's the Dark Lord...
The Dark Lord, whose menace loomed over almost the entire Wizarding world. Only he had the power to pull something like this off right under Professor McGonagall's nose—but Andrew didn't understand.
Why?
With everyone watching, and Professor McGonagall right here, he expects to cast a spell on a broom and make Harry Potter fall to his death?
What kind of joke is this... what would that accomplish besides exposing himself?
Only a madman would make such a choice—risking partial exposure on a gamble with almost no chance of success...
Has he actually gone mad...?