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Chapter 163: You Can Watch the Match Even if You Don't Understand Quidditch
With the Minister for Magic's arrival, William and the other two professors were on high alert—this was the most critical moment. If some reckless student decided to pull a stunt, the approval for their future experiment funds would be in jeopardy.
There was no helping it; seniority mattered in any job. They couldn't just have the new teachers like William sit around while the Heads of House stood guard in the back, could they?
'Doesn't seem to be any unusual activity—looks like the Minister for Magic's sudden visit has its perks. At least any students planning to cause trouble didn't get the message in advance and had no time to prepare.'
William glanced around, feeling slightly more at ease.
By the time he finished his scan, however, the Minister for Magic and the members of the Board of Governors had already taken their seats.
'Well, even in the Wizarding World, it's the same old routine. Next up is introducing the guests, guest speeches, the Headmaster's speech, then a performance—'
William amused himself with his own sarcastic commentary while flicking the lighter Singeade had given him. Whether it was effective or not, the thing was certainly a good stress reliever. He couldn't just stuff his face with chocolate every time something happened, could he?
But the course of events quickly took an unexpected turn. After Dumbledore said a few words, the two House Teams came onto the field.
"Hey, Adams, isn't the Minister for Magic going to give a speech?"
"Not now, of course. The Minister for Magic speaks after the match is over. Why would he speak before the event is over?"
"What about the Board of Governors? Do they speak after him?"
"The Board of Governors doesn't give speeches—" Adams shot William a look, as if asking if he was still half-asleep. "The Board just needs to show their faces. The Daily Prophet will get their photo, and that picture will say it all."
"Ah, so that's how it is."
William nodded, though he hadn't understood a thing.
While they were talking, the two teams had already mounted their flying broomsticks, ready for the match.
'This lineup is really reassuring,' William exhaled softly, the weight in his chest finally lifting.
'Professor McGonagall even asked me to reschedule a detention... I can't believe I forgot. The Weasley Twins are playing in the match, so how could they possibly be out causing trouble?!'
He finally understood where his earlier unease had come from—it was because he hadn't seen the Weasley twins.
Speaking of which, could this be the reason they were allowed on the school team in the first place?
During major events, the two would be busy preparing for the match and wouldn't have time for pranks, thus reducing the overall danger level of the event?
William mused silently—he didn't know much about Quidditch anyway. His flying broomstick training hadn't improved much due to all sorts of miscellaneous tasks. He could only manage stable flight at the moment and couldn't perform any difficult maneuvers, let alone play at a competitive level.
But he soon realized his hypothesis was off—even to his mostly untrained eye, the Weasley brothers were performing superbly.
'Still, allowing players to hit people with a ball in this game is a bit too brutal. If they really aimed for it, they could break an arm with one hit, right?'
'Oh, right, I think I've seen similar scenes in the movies before—though I didn't understand it back then either.'
Too embarrassed to ask Adams and the others about things that everyone else seemed to know, William started trying to figure out the game for himself while keeping an eye on the students.
'It doesn't seem that complicated—'
With the help of the student commentator's explanations, William watched for about ten minutes and roughly figured out what was going on. There were players responsible for passing the ball through the goals to score, players who guarded the goals to block shots, and players like the Weasley brothers, who carried clubs to hit a ball that flew around hitting people.
'The main thing is that there's a ball that wants to kill people—no, two balls that want to kill people, and they don't just target one side. A direct hit would most likely knock someone off their broomstick.'
'The Weasley brothers are the players responsible for using their clubs to force those balls to hit the opposing team,' William silently categorized the players on the field. 'They probably aren't allowed to hit people directly with the clubs—otherwise, the other team would be getting clubbed right now.'
'Maybe they're also supposed to protect their own teammates from being hit? Not sure. I don't know if it's due to good training coordination or some other reason, but the twins are quite aggressive, and their teammates are pretty skilled at dodging that battering ball too.'
'Considering they must have had tests during training, those twins have probably hit their own teammates quite a bit—' William speculated maliciously, though he was only joking.
'This game is actually quite interesting. It's confrontational enough, has a good amount of randomness, but it's a bit dangerous. A single Confundus Charm could make one of those self-attacking balls hit even the referee. If I ever played, I'd definitely choose the club-wielding profession like those brothers.'
As he watched, William began to get a taste for the game. Although his duty of supervising the students prevented him from focusing completely, he could generally understand what the players were doing.
As soon as he figured it out, he immediately noticed that the situation on the field was not favorable for Gryffindor—even someone as unfamiliar with flying broomsticks as him could see that the Slytherin brooms were far, far better.
'A House Team match is still not formal enough, they can't even standardize the brooms—but then again, swimsuits at sports meets all have their own advanced tech, so who's to say anything?'
He shook his head—Gryffindor was doomed to lose.
'There's just one problem now—what are those two loafers doing up in the sky? Trying to get their steps in?'
Although it was a bit disrespectful to the match to call the students that, William genuinely couldn't figure out what those two children were doing. They weren't scoring, they weren't defending the goals, and they weren't even hitting people with balls.
To make matters worse, their broomsticks seemed to be the best of the lot.
'Are you two the accompanying referees? The sidekick in a comedy duo who just watches the match from the field?'
Though he knew a game as popular as Quidditch was unlikely to have something like a mascot, William really couldn't figure out what the two youngest students in the sky were doing.
'The one from Gryffindor is Harry Potter, and the one from Slytherin doesn't look much older. Could they really be mascots?'
'Wait, maybe they're the commanders?'
William theorized rapidly—this was a genuine 3D game, an aerial match. It made sense to have a commander with a view of the whole field, responsible for observing the dynamics, assigning tactics to other players, and directing them to adapt on the fly.
'So they're a support role? Because the job is less demanding, they're responsible for commanding the whole team?'
With this thought, everything suddenly clicked for William—but reality soon slapped him in the face.
The two of them started fighting in the sky. Their two brooms collided, and then the two players William had assumed were support roles began to brawl in mid-air, neither willing to let go.
"They've found it!"
The commentator's voice suddenly grew excited.
"They're fighting for it! Heavens, is that a foul? No, Potter, Potter!"
'Fighting for it? Fighting for what?'
William was once again completely bewildered...
The struggle on the field was quickly decided. The two players, practically locked in an embrace, came tumbling down from the sky. Their clothes and hair were a mess, and even from a distance, you could see the bloody scratches their nails had left on each other's faces and necks.
"Potter! Potter! We've won!"
The commentator couldn't have been more biased—he was definitely from Gryffindor.
But, they were far behind in points. How did they win?
(end of chapter)
With the Minister for Magic's arrival, William and the other two professors were on high alert—this was the most critical moment. If some reckless student decided to pull a stunt, the approval for their future experiment funds would be in jeopardy.
There was no helping it; seniority mattered in any job. They couldn't just have the new teachers like William sit around while the Heads of House stood guard in the back, could they?
'Doesn't seem to be any unusual activity—looks like the Minister for Magic's sudden visit has its perks. At least any students planning to cause trouble didn't get the message in advance and had no time to prepare.'
William glanced around, feeling slightly more at ease.
By the time he finished his scan, however, the Minister for Magic and the members of the Board of Governors had already taken their seats.
'Well, even in the Wizarding World, it's the same old routine. Next up is introducing the guests, guest speeches, the Headmaster's speech, then a performance—'
William amused himself with his own sarcastic commentary while flicking the lighter Singeade had given him. Whether it was effective or not, the thing was certainly a good stress reliever. He couldn't just stuff his face with chocolate every time something happened, could he?
But the course of events quickly took an unexpected turn. After Dumbledore said a few words, the two House Teams came onto the field.
"Hey, Adams, isn't the Minister for Magic going to give a speech?"
"Not now, of course. The Minister for Magic speaks after the match is over. Why would he speak before the event is over?"
"What about the Board of Governors? Do they speak after him?"
"The Board of Governors doesn't give speeches—" Adams shot William a look, as if asking if he was still half-asleep. "The Board just needs to show their faces. The Daily Prophet will get their photo, and that picture will say it all."
"Ah, so that's how it is."
William nodded, though he hadn't understood a thing.
While they were talking, the two teams had already mounted their flying broomsticks, ready for the match.
'This lineup is really reassuring,' William exhaled softly, the weight in his chest finally lifting.
'Professor McGonagall even asked me to reschedule a detention... I can't believe I forgot. The Weasley Twins are playing in the match, so how could they possibly be out causing trouble?!'
He finally understood where his earlier unease had come from—it was because he hadn't seen the Weasley twins.
Speaking of which, could this be the reason they were allowed on the school team in the first place?
During major events, the two would be busy preparing for the match and wouldn't have time for pranks, thus reducing the overall danger level of the event?
William mused silently—he didn't know much about Quidditch anyway. His flying broomstick training hadn't improved much due to all sorts of miscellaneous tasks. He could only manage stable flight at the moment and couldn't perform any difficult maneuvers, let alone play at a competitive level.
But he soon realized his hypothesis was off—even to his mostly untrained eye, the Weasley brothers were performing superbly.
'Still, allowing players to hit people with a ball in this game is a bit too brutal. If they really aimed for it, they could break an arm with one hit, right?'
'Oh, right, I think I've seen similar scenes in the movies before—though I didn't understand it back then either.'
Too embarrassed to ask Adams and the others about things that everyone else seemed to know, William started trying to figure out the game for himself while keeping an eye on the students.
'It doesn't seem that complicated—'
With the help of the student commentator's explanations, William watched for about ten minutes and roughly figured out what was going on. There were players responsible for passing the ball through the goals to score, players who guarded the goals to block shots, and players like the Weasley brothers, who carried clubs to hit a ball that flew around hitting people.
'The main thing is that there's a ball that wants to kill people—no, two balls that want to kill people, and they don't just target one side. A direct hit would most likely knock someone off their broomstick.'
'The Weasley brothers are the players responsible for using their clubs to force those balls to hit the opposing team,' William silently categorized the players on the field. 'They probably aren't allowed to hit people directly with the clubs—otherwise, the other team would be getting clubbed right now.'
'Maybe they're also supposed to protect their own teammates from being hit? Not sure. I don't know if it's due to good training coordination or some other reason, but the twins are quite aggressive, and their teammates are pretty skilled at dodging that battering ball too.'
'Considering they must have had tests during training, those twins have probably hit their own teammates quite a bit—' William speculated maliciously, though he was only joking.
'This game is actually quite interesting. It's confrontational enough, has a good amount of randomness, but it's a bit dangerous. A single Confundus Charm could make one of those self-attacking balls hit even the referee. If I ever played, I'd definitely choose the club-wielding profession like those brothers.'
As he watched, William began to get a taste for the game. Although his duty of supervising the students prevented him from focusing completely, he could generally understand what the players were doing.
As soon as he figured it out, he immediately noticed that the situation on the field was not favorable for Gryffindor—even someone as unfamiliar with flying broomsticks as him could see that the Slytherin brooms were far, far better.
'A House Team match is still not formal enough, they can't even standardize the brooms—but then again, swimsuits at sports meets all have their own advanced tech, so who's to say anything?'
He shook his head—Gryffindor was doomed to lose.
'There's just one problem now—what are those two loafers doing up in the sky? Trying to get their steps in?'
Although it was a bit disrespectful to the match to call the students that, William genuinely couldn't figure out what those two children were doing. They weren't scoring, they weren't defending the goals, and they weren't even hitting people with balls.
To make matters worse, their broomsticks seemed to be the best of the lot.
'Are you two the accompanying referees? The sidekick in a comedy duo who just watches the match from the field?'
Though he knew a game as popular as Quidditch was unlikely to have something like a mascot, William really couldn't figure out what the two youngest students in the sky were doing.
'The one from Gryffindor is Harry Potter, and the one from Slytherin doesn't look much older. Could they really be mascots?'
'Wait, maybe they're the commanders?'
William theorized rapidly—this was a genuine 3D game, an aerial match. It made sense to have a commander with a view of the whole field, responsible for observing the dynamics, assigning tactics to other players, and directing them to adapt on the fly.
'So they're a support role? Because the job is less demanding, they're responsible for commanding the whole team?'
With this thought, everything suddenly clicked for William—but reality soon slapped him in the face.
The two of them started fighting in the sky. Their two brooms collided, and then the two players William had assumed were support roles began to brawl in mid-air, neither willing to let go.
"They've found it!"
The commentator's voice suddenly grew excited.
"They're fighting for it! Heavens, is that a foul? No, Potter, Potter!"
'Fighting for it? Fighting for what?'
William was once again completely bewildered...
The struggle on the field was quickly decided. The two players, practically locked in an embrace, came tumbling down from the sky. Their clothes and hair were a mess, and even from a distance, you could see the bloody scratches their nails had left on each other's faces and necks.
"Potter! Potter! We've won!"
The commentator couldn't have been more biased—he was definitely from Gryffindor.
But, they were far behind in points. How did they win?
(end of chapter)
