Saturday arrived, and the long-awaited match was finally about to begin. As students flooded into the stands, the Quidditch pitch quickly grew noisy, filled with blue and green banners and decorations. The atmosphere was electric.
"First onto the field—the Ravenclaw team!" Lee Jordan announced loudly. As usual, he was the commentator for the match. "Cirila, Lewis, Davies, Cho Chang—one outstanding player after another enters the field. I have to say, this is the strongest Ravenclaw team in recent years…"
The statement drew nods from many students, especially the older ones. Everyone knew what Ravenclaw had been like before Cirila, what it became after her arrival, and what it was now.
"I may be a Gryffindor," Lee continued, "but after watching Ravenclaw's last match, I have to admit—Lewis Green and Cirila Reanlenn are the best Chaser duo Hogwarts has ever seen!"
His words were drowned out by Slytherin's boos, only to be overtaken by even louder cheers. Even Hufflepuff, who had been crushed before, had to acknowledge their performance.
"Ravenclaw has reached the center of the field. Cirila seems to be saying something to Lewis… What could this golden duo be discussing? Strategy? Or perhaps the secret behind their perfect coordination?" Lee paused for effect before continuing, "I'm sure everyone is curious… and so am I. But don't worry—I can read lips!"
Lowering his voice, he mimicked Lewis. "Cirila, what do you think of Lee Jordan?"
Then he switched to a slightly higher tone, imitating Cirila. "Oh, Jordan? He's wonderful. I mean… his commentary is passionate and humorous. I think he's the best commentator…"
"And I agree! Thank you, Miss Cirila!" he concluded in his normal voice.
The shameless self-praise made both Lewis and Cirila laugh despite themselves. Cirila lifted her head and shot Lee a sharp glare. Even from dozens of meters away, the intensity made him instinctively shrink back.
"Oh—sorry, Miss Cirila! I didn't mean it!" Lee laughed nervously. "Merlin's beard, that look is scarier than the Bloody Baron—I'm terrified!"
His exaggerated reaction triggered another wave of laughter from the crowd.
Lewis couldn't help thinking that Lee must have grown up watching Muggle sports broadcasts—his style was exactly like those overly energetic commentators.
"Don't mind him," Lewis said with a smile. "After the match, he'll definitely come apologize in person."
Cirila shot him a sideways glance. "Do you think my glare is scary too?"
The gaze of a witcher who had faced life-and-death battles was naturally far more intimidating than that of ordinary students, but Lewis simply replied, "On the field, your eyes are like those of a Valkyrie."
"You really know how to talk," Cirila said, smiling.
Lewis raised his voice and looked around. "Then under our Valkyrie's lead—Ravenclaw will win!"
He extended his hand, and the rest of the team stacked theirs on top. "Ravenclaw—victory!" Even Roger joined in, though as captain he had long been overshadowed by Lewis and Cirila, reduced to managing training schedules. Still, he was more than satisfied—after all, the trophy would bear his name.
Soon, the captains shook hands, and Madam Hooch signaled the start of the match. Lewis shot into the air on his Nimbus 2000, immediately passing the Quaffle to Cirila.
"The match has begun!" Lee resumed his commentary. "Both teams start with standard formations. Lewis and Cirila are alternating possession, already showing incredible coordination. In their last match, they scored twelve out of thirteen shots in just fifteen minutes, earning 120 points while limiting their opponents to only two goals. Let's see what they can do today!"
They did not disappoint.
From the very beginning, Lewis and Cirila launched a relentless assault on Slytherin. Accelerating to maximum speed, they took turns breaking through the defense. Slytherin soon found themselves experiencing exactly what Hufflepuff had endured before. With even better coordination now, Ravenclaw's duo tore through their formation like it was nothing. Attempts at double-teaming only resulted in quick passes and easy goals.
Marcus Flint, Slytherin's captain, had boasted before the match that he alone could shut down the first-year. Now he could barely keep up, trailing behind Lewis with no success.
Within five minutes, the score was already 60–0.
Humiliated, Slytherin resorted to their usual tactics—if they couldn't stop the ball, they would stop the players. Their larger physiques and aggressive style began to yield some results, but they still couldn't contain the duo.
Seizing an opportunity, Slytherin Beater Derrick smashed a Bludger toward Lewis, even though he didn't have the Quaffle, simply aiming to take him out. Without even turning around, Lewis sensed it. With a sudden change of direction, he dodged the first strike. When the Bludger came around again, he flew directly in front of Flint and abruptly cut control of his broom.
In an instant, he dropped like a stone. The Bludger lost its target and instead slammed straight into Flint's face. The impact broke his nose and knocked him clean off his broom.
Gasps erupted across the stadium. Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape both cast spells to slow Flint's fall. Realizing the danger, Lewis immediately dove after him, delaying his recovery until the last moment to match Flint's descent. Just before hitting the ground, he activated his broom and reached him in time, even using a subtle shockwave to cushion the impact.
Cirila noticed everything but said nothing, smoothly covering his position in the air.
Lewis managed to grab Flint just before he hit the ground, preventing further injury.
From that point on, the match was decided. Without their captain, Slytherin lost all momentum. Ravenclaw pushed the score to 200–10, and under Lewis's protection, Cho Chang easily caught the Golden Snitch.
The match ended. Ravenclaw erupted in cheers—not just for the victory, but because with two overwhelming wins, they had effectively secured the Quidditch Cup for the term.
The Ravenclaw players were practically carried back to the castle on the shoulders of their housemates. But even that wasn't enough to contain their excitement. That evening, after dinner, they held a celebration in the common room. With the support of Filius Flitwick, the tables were filled with food, and older students even brought in butterbeer for the younger ones.
Lewis hadn't expected to wear the formal robes gifted by the Tonks family so soon.
At the start of the party, Professor Flitwick gave a speech, and once again the room erupted in cheers for Lewis and the others. Afterward, he tactfully left, giving the students space.
The Ravenclaw common room became a sea of joy. Students gathered in groups, drinking, chatting, playing games, and dancing. As one of the key contributors, Lewis was surrounded by people eager to talk, asking about the match and praising his maneuver that led to Flint being struck by the Bludger.
He patiently entertained them until Steve suddenly pushed his way over. "Hey, Lewis, stop drowning in butterbeer!"
He forced his way through, shoving aside a senior who had been getting a bit too close. "What is it, Steve?" Lewis asked, relieved.
"Not here," Steve said, pointing toward another room. "Cirila's been looking for you."
At the mention of her name, the senior immediately backed off.
Lewis frowned. "What does she want?"
"No idea. She's waiting by the window—looks like she wants to talk alone."
"I see. Thanks."
Setting down his drink, Lewis made his way through the teasing crowd and entered the room. There, by the window, stood Cirila, her silver-gray hair glowing softly in the light as she gazed at the sky.
Even at a party, her attire remained practical yet striking. As she turned, Lewis approached with a familiar smile. "Thanks for rescuing me from that social disaster. Whatever you need, I'm at your service."
"Oh?" Cirila tilted her chin slightly, her gaze sharp. "If that's the case… then explain something to me."
Her eyes locked onto his.
"Why can you use the Aard Sign?"
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