Quidditch Match

Wade had no idea that after only a single meeting, Professor Murray had already placed great expectations on him. He was simply delighted that his study of Alchemy, which had felt like groping through the dark, could finally receive professional guidance.

When he returned to the Great Hall, all four long tables were nearly empty. Only a few students who had slept in were lingering over breakfast. It was Sunday, and most students would not rise early, so breakfast had been extended by half an hour.

Wade casually took two sandwiches. Seeing West Mole, the Ravenclaw sixth-year male Prefect, at the end of the table, he walked over and sat beside him. "Morning, West."

"Morning, Wade." West said lazily, "It's rare to see you sleep in too."

Wade leaned forward, drawing closer. "West, do you know who teaches Alchemy at the school?"

"Of course. Professor Terence Murray." West said, "I took his advanced class this year—why do you ask?"

"I'm very interested in Alchemy, so I wanted to learn about it in advance." Wade did not mention his chance encounter that morning. Instead, he asked, "Which one is Professor Murray? I don't remember hearing anyone mention him when the first-years started school."

"Well, of course not. Professor Murray usually isn't at the school, so you wouldn't see him either when the first-years arrive or at the Halloween Feast." West said matter-of-factly, "He's a famous master Alchemist. They say his Alchemy is second only to Nicolas Flamel's—though, of course, everyone recognizes Nicolas Flamel as the greatest Alchemist of the modern age, and there are at least five or six people called 'the second Nicolas Flamel.' But Professor Murray isn't the sort to chase empty fame. He's got the real thing."

West suddenly leaned in closer, lowering his voice with yearning in his tone. "Did you know? Professor Murray even owns shares in the Nimbus Racing Broom Company and Wizarding Radio. He's a favored guest of the famous singer Celestina Warbeck, has partnerships with Ministries of Magic in various countries, and has participated in renovation projects for at least three Ministries. During the Halloween that just passed, he was in France attending the Carcassonne Alchemy Symposium. Only the finest Alchemists receive invitations."

"So someone as busy as him—" West returned to his normal volume, "—it's already very good that he can make time to teach us every week. He can't possibly live at the school like the other professors, and he rarely comes to the Great Hall to eat. But starting Alchemy now is a very wise choice. By the time you officially study under Professor Murray in sixth year, you'll definitely make a name for yourself. Maybe he'll even take you on as a true apprentice, and you'll soar straight to the top!"

"What do you mean, soar straight to the top?" West's friend Benson suddenly asked. He had appeared from nowhere, his hair a mess and even traces of unwashed toothpaste foam still on his face. He grabbed a pie from the table, then urged without waiting for West's answer, "Hurry up, or we won't get good seats if we're late."

"Wait!" West took out his Wand and cast Scourgify on him before saying, "What's the rush? The Gryffindor and Slytherin match doesn't start for another half hour! Besides, they'll all be flying around in the air. What difference does it make where we sit?"

"How could it not matter? If the only seats left are behind pillars, we won't be able to see the best parts! And I don't want to sit with Slytherin, either..." Benson muttered, dragging West toward the Quidditch Pitch in long strides.

West turned back and called, "Then Wade, you'd better hurry too—"

Before he could finish, he was dragged out of the Great Hall.

Only then did Wade realize that the Great Hall was so empty not because so many students were sleeping in, but because most of them had gone to the Quidditch Pitch. So much had happened since last night that he had completely forgotten that the first Quidditch match was today.

After Benson hurried West away, the few remaining students in the Great Hall seemed to realize that time was short as well, and they rushed out. Wade finished the cup of hot water that had appeared before him out of thin air before heading for the Quidditch Pitch.

Nearly the entire school had gathered there. To see the match clearly, many people even held binoculars in their hands. The stands were packed solid, rows of seats rising layer upon layer into the air. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students were mixed among the Gryffindors, while Slytherin huddled together separately.

On the highest row, Gryffindor students had hung a huge banner. The words "Potter Will Win" shimmered in different colors, and someone had painted a vivid Lion on it.

The players from both teams filed out of the changing rooms. Students throughout the pitch shouted and applauded. Though there were only a few hundred of them, they sounded like a stadium of tens of thousands. Like NBA stars, the players received encouragement and cheers from their respective Houses.

Wade first climbed to the highest tier of the stands and quickly spotted his target—the professors who had come to watch the match apparently did not want to squeeze in with the students, so they had gathered in one area. Professor Snape, black as a crow, was especially easy to find.

Thus, Wade quickly saw Quirrell too. He was standing close to Professor Snape, a large turban wrapped around his head, staring fixedly at Harry Potter as he mounted his Broomstick. A flush colored his pale face, as though he too had been infected by the fervent atmosphere.

At Madam Hooch's whistle, the players from both sides swiftly flew into the sky, becoming tiny black dots in the blink of an eye. Almost all the students in the stands instinctively stood up, craning their necks to look overhead and struggling to identify the players on both teams, occasionally crying out in surprise as the match unfolded.

Wade squeezed through the crowd with difficulty, Lee Jordan's passionate commentary ringing in his ears from among the Gryffindor students: "Flint didn't score! Gryffindor's Keeper Wood made a beautiful move and intercepted the ball—"

As the two teams traded attacks and defenses, Wade had already squeezed close to the professors' section. Shielded by students on either side, he quietly extended his Wand and gave it a quick flick and shake!

Quirrell was applauding a Gryffindor goal, smiling along with the professors beside him and completely ignoring Snape's dark expression not far away.

Just as he secretly prepared to cast a spell on Harry Potter's Broomstick, his body suddenly pitched forward. He rolled uncontrollably down the stands, even knocking over several students.

It looked exactly as though Professor Quirrell had simply become too excited while watching the match and accidentally fallen.

Everyone hurried to help them up, only to see Quirrell clutching his nose as two streams of blood ran down his face.

"Are you all right, Professor Quirrell?" Professor Sprout asked with concern.

At the same time, Lee Jordan's ecstatic voice rang out—

"Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor wins one hundred and seventy to twenty! It's a magnificent victory! Magnificent Harry Potter! In his very first match as Seeker, he defeated the Slytherin Team!"

Quirrell, his face covered in blood, abruptly turned his head and stared blankly at the celebrating Gryffindor Team, completely forgetting to conceal the sudden ugliness of his expression. Fortunately, everyone was cheering and celebrating, and almost no one noticed the change in his face.

"Almost," because Professor Snape, whose face was equally livid, was staring at him darkly.

Behind Quirrell, separated by several walls of people, Wade quietly withdrew his Wand. After one final look at Quirrell, he blended into the excited students and returned to the castle with them.