Chapter 46: Superior Talent!
Melvin walked alongside Headmaster Dumbledore and found a seat in the Gryffindor stands.
In truth, Melvin wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch mainly because he found the sport's rules a bit distorted.
As a competitive ball game, there was no physical contact. From a wizard's perspective, Quidditch didn't allow the use of magic, and all offensive or disruptive spells were forbidden. What was the point of watching it then?
There were players Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers twelve in total between the two teams. They risked being hit and knocked off their brooms, and each goal was worth only ten points. Meanwhile, the Seeker, completely outside the main battlefield, could end everything by catching a tiny golden ball worth one hundred and fifty points.
No wonder the greatest players in history were always the Seekers.
Still, Melvin's opinion didn't matter. Quidditch remained the most popular sport in the wizarding world and today, he was here to record the match.
The previous week, he had finalized the details of his collaboration with Madam Rosmerta. The only remaining issue was obtaining the Headmaster's approval. Melvin had thought one week would be enough to meet him, but Dumbledore hadn't appeared once.
Professor McGonagall insisted the Headmaster was "busy" but wouldn't say where he was. His office had been completely empty all week.
Clearly, McGonagall had been handling all school matters in his absence. So what was the Headmaster doing?
Melvin had been looking for him daily for the past seven days, and only now, at the Quidditch match, had Dumbledore finally shown up.
"...That's the situation," Melvin explained, sounding slightly weary. "I'll just take a small commission from the profits. The rest of the Galleons will go toward improving the school's Quidditch facilities for instance, standardizing the brooms players use. There's a huge disparity between the four teams."
"Look, Headmaster Potter's riding a Nimbus 2000, a gift from Professor McGonagall. It's the newest Nimbus model, capable of reaching 275 kilometers per hour and turning full circle midair. It's unfair to the other players. Slytherin dominated the championship for five straight years because they had the best brooms. Meanwhile, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw still use that old 'Four-Star Sweep' technique passed down for generations."
"In the long term, letting adult wizards from outside the school attend matches will help give exposure to the players. It could even open doors for those who want to pursue Quidditch professionally after graduation."
"It will also expand Hogwarts' influence…"
Melvin continued his logical and detailed explanation for a full ten minutes, until his throat felt dry. Finally, he glanced at Dumbledore, who had been absent all week.
"So what do you think?"
"Hmm…" Dumbledore adjusted his new pair of glasses apparently bought just for today's match. "Actually, I agreed the moment you mentioned it. As I've said before, I'd love to see you breathe new life into Hogwarts."
Melvin looked at the Headmaster's kind smile and felt a flicker of amusement. But since he'd achieved his goal, there was no reason to dwell on it.
"Headmaster, what were you doing this past week?"
"I went to visit some ghostly friends in Kent to ask about the afterlife," Dumbledore replied lightly, as if he were talking about visiting old acquaintances.
"There aren't enough ghosts at Hogwarts?"
"I already spoke with them, but got no answers so I went to Kent."
"And did the ghosts there tell you anything?"
"No."
Melvin was certain he heard a faint note of melancholy in Dumbledore's tone. He wanted to offer comfort, but didn't know how. Instead, he changed the subject:
"Headmaster, any progress on Ravenclaw's Diadem?"
"Not yet."
"..."
Melvin arched an eyebrow, about to press further but Dumbledore turned toward the field.
"Look, the match has begun!"
"Hello, everyone! Welcome to this season's Hogwarts Quidditch match! Today's game Slytherin versus Gryffindor!"
Lee Jordan's voice boomed over the field. After quickly introducing the players, the match began.
Each team consisted of seven players: a Keeper guarded the scoring hoops, a Seeker chased the Snitch, two Beaters targeted the Bludgers, and three Chasers aimed the Quaffle into the opposing team's goals.
The two teams had strikingly different styles. Slytherin's lineup consisted almost entirely of tall, muscular boys, while Gryffindor's was a mix of both genders, generally slimmer and quicker.
All of them were still students young and not yet fully developed, lacking the raw power and speed of professional players. Slytherin's attacks were fast and aggressive, Gryffindor's defenses sharp and quick, but even casual viewers could follow the movements easily.
The match had no time limit it ended only when the Golden Snitch was caught.
The score remained close, Slytherin leading by thirty points for most of the game.
The duel was fierce and thrilling.
After ten minutes, Slytherin's captain, Flint, began charging directly at players headfirst, chest-first yet it wasn't counted as a foul. Madam Hooch only gave a verbal warning.
There were more than seven hundred possible Quidditch fouls, yet not one warranted a red card. The harshest penalty was a free throw.
Melvin had always thought the reason Quidditch never devolved into magical duels was simple because its players weren't imaginative enough. If they simply drew their wands and stunned each other midair, there'd be no need for all these penalties; they'd just win outright.
Later, he realized the truth it was all about balance.
As long as no one drew a wand, Quidditch remained just a game.
But the moment someone did it became a magical duel.
"Flint deliberately charged at Harry! That's a foul!"
Lee Jordan's shout echoed across the stadium.
Gryffindor was awarded another free throw. While the crowd focused on that, only a few noticed something strange about Harry's broom.
It started shaking violently.
Melvin scanned the stands, quickly spotting a familiar young witch hiding under a banner. He watched as she slipped cautiously through the crowd toward the Slytherin stands, unnoticed.
Then she set Snape's cloak on fire.
"Heh…"
Melvin couldn't help but grin.
Dumbledore turned to him, wearing a similar smile. "Something amusing?"
Melvin nodded slightly, then looked back to the field.
Harry's Nimbus 2000 was still jerking and swaying. The boy was dangling precariously by one arm, gripping the broom's handle for dear life.
"Headmaster, I think you should keep an eye on Potter right now."
"A young eagle must feel the fall before it learns to soar."
As Dumbledore finished speaking, flames erupted in the Slytherin stands, drawing gasps from the crowd.
Harry's broom suddenly steadied. After hanging for so long, he swung himself back into the seat with one hand, climbed higher and dove to catch the Snitch.
"The game's over! Gryffindor wins, 170 to 60!"
"..."
Melvin watched the slender boy's figure in silence.
What extraordinary physical talent.
(End of Chapter)