Growing Ambition

"Whoa! Harry Potter had fallen, but his textbook-perfect roll had saved him from being knocked unconscious.

Huh? Why was he covering his mouth? Had that roll made him feel sick?

Ah! He'd just thrown up the Golden Snitch—he'd caught it!

Nice! No wonder he was the Savior Boy—Harry Potter!

He lived up to his name as the Boy Who Lived, claiming the first Golden Snitch of the season!

And it was the first Golden Snitch he'd caught in his Quidditch career.

Harry Potter had won Gryffindor 150 points—the match was over!"

Lee Jordan shouted himself hoarse.

"But Gryffindor team, badly shorthanded, simply couldn't withstand Slytherin team's fierce attack.

While Harry was chasing the Golden Snitch, Slytherin team scored five more goals!

The final score was 210–150. Gryffindor team had, unfortunately, lost the match.

Hopefully, Gryffindor team would go back and get themselves into better shape. There had been far too many problems with the team today. They couldn't put all their hopes on a rookie!

Let's congratulate Matthew Black on a fantastic start to the season!

Even more exciting for his fans than the victory is that, despite not having trained for half a year, he's still shown exceptional ability. We have every reason to believe Matthew Black will once again be a strong contender for Annual Best Hitter this year."

Lee Jordan had been relentlessly singing Matthew's praises, so much so that he'd even forgotten to offer Slytherin the usual congratulations. He actually enjoyed watching Matthew play. Matthew was the best Beater he'd seen since becoming a commentator. His one great regret was that Matthew wasn't a Beater for Gryffindor team.

Harry's feelings were complicated. He was thrilled to have caught the Golden Snitch in a match for the first time, but also dejected that his team had lost.

The other Gryffindor players, meanwhile, breathed a sigh of relief. Not getting shut out by Slytherin was already the best outcome they could've hoped for.

After Harry caught the Golden Snitch, the Gryffindor stands, as silent as a library, finally erupted into cheers. But as soon as the match ended, their cheers were drowned out by the roar of the whole crowd—

"Black!

—Black!

—Black!"

Slytherin Common Room was filled with a joyous atmosphere. A small celebration was underway.

In the center of the common room, Captain Marcus was dramatically recounting the afternoon's match. Almost every other sentence included extravagant praise for Matthew.

Matthew stood in a corner, chatting with his roommates and holding a glass of juice.

A slightly shy brown-haired girl came over.

"Matthew, um..."

Matthew smiled warmly. "Hello."

"Tonight..." The girl tucked her long, silky brown hair behind her ear and looked at Matthew expectantly. "Are you free tonight, Matthew?"

Matthew said with some regret, "That Quidditch match was so exhilarating that I'm feeling a little tired now. I'm going to head back and rest once the celebration's over."

The girl looked disappointed, but still took out a letter, her face turning faintly red. "Please accept this, Matthew."

Matthew took the letter and slipped it into his pocket.

He smiled. "Thank you."

The girl ran off, blushing.

Even though he'd tucked himself away in a corner, an unusually large number of girls had come over to chat with him that evening. Some hinted that they'd be free later; others handed him a love letter and ran off. Out of politeness, Matthew hadn't wanted to embarrass them, and his pockets were already stuffed with letters.

"I've never received this many love letters," Geralt said enviously. "I think I'll try out for the Quidditch team next year."

Jerry bluntly replied, "Forget it. Even if you joined the Quidditch team, you wouldn't get this many love letters."

He looked toward the center of the common room. "Marcus hasn't gotten a single one tonight."

Geralt gave the fringe over his forehead a flashy toss, then ran his left hand through it, grinning. "Well, I'd still do a little better than Marcus."

After the celebration ended, Matthew didn't head straight back to his dormitory to rest. Instead, he planned to go to the Room of Requirement and practice the Meditation Method, and brew a few Potions he'd need tomorrow while he was at it.

As he passed an abandoned classroom, he noticed something inside seemed to be glowing faintly.

Through the half-open doorway, he saw a huge mirror inside. The faint glow he'd noticed was the light from the streetlamp outside reflecting off its surface.

The mirror stood several meters tall, with an ornate gold-trimmed frame and claw-shaped feet. At the top of the frame was a line of words that made no sense at first glance. But if you read them backward, they meant: I show not your reflection, but the deepest desire of your heart.

Matthew's expression turned odd. He realized he'd stumbled across the Mirror of Erised. It hadn't been here when he'd taken this route at noon. Had Dumbledore lugged the Mirror of Erised over here in the middle of the night?

Unable to tell whether Dumbledore was nearby, Matthew decided to act as any ordinary curious student would.

Putting on a curious expression, Matthew pushed open the half-open door and went inside.

As he stepped in front of the Mirror of Erised, its polished surface shifted to show a different scene: Midnight London, with moonlight bathing the streets, every corner plastered with portraits of a naturally curly-haired young man. He wore a gentle smile, touched with a hint of authority; the two qualities blended together perfectly.

The person in those portraits was Matthew himself!

Matthew couldn't hide his surprise. When had he ever wanted something like this?

Had his outlook gradually changed after he'd crossed over to the Wizarding World and gained so many more possibilities?

Just then, a kind voice came from behind him. "Matthew, you found it?"

Matthew turned and saw Dumbledore watching him. Even at such close range, Matthew's Magic Sense hadn't detected him.

Matthew smiled. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore blinked. "I haven't had the chance to congratulate you on winning your first match. I watched it—it was excellent. It looks as though Annual Best Hitter will be yours again this year."

Matthew answered modestly, "Thank you. My teammates played well. I only helped a little."

"No need to be so modest. You really did play well." Dumbledore patted Matthew on the shoulder, then changed the subject. Gazing at the Mirror of Erised, he said, "Have you discovered the fun of the Mirror of Erised? I'm curious—what did you see?"

Matthew put on a curious expression. "This mirror is called the Mirror of Erised? I saw myself on a peaceful street."

He hadn't chosen to lie. The person in the portrait was himself, and the moonlit street was peaceful enough.