"Good morning, Hogwarts! I'm your commentator today—Lee Jordan! And we're live from the Quidditch pitch for today's match: Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff!"
Lee's booming voice echoed through the stands, his usual enthusiasm drawing cheers from all four houses. A tall Gryffindor student with traditional locs and a brilliant grin, Lee Jordan's white teeth gleamed against his deep brown skin, and his excitement lit up the crowd.
"And the first touch goes to Ravenclaw! Chaser Adrian Blackwood, wearing No. 3, snatches the Quaffle right out of the air. If Gryffindor's Harry Potter is the youngest Seeker in a century, then Ravenclaw's Blackwood is definitely the youngest Chaser in one!"
Lee's voice rose with each word, keeping the crowd riveted. "He may be young, but just look at that agility! Quick as a Golden Snitch on fire!"
High above the pitch, Adrian streaked upward, the scarlet Quaffle tucked under one arm, his robes whipping behind him as he soared past the spires of the castle.
"Wait a minute—Merlin's beard, is that…? YES, IT IS! Adrian's riding the Neptune! A conceptual model broom—still in limited release! That's a game-changer!" Jordan was nearly shouting now.
Just then, a Bludger screamed through the air, aiming straight for Adrian's back. But he veered sharply left, the black iron ball missing him by inches and snarling past his ear like an angry banshee.
"OH! That was close!" Lee shouted. "A brutal swing from Hufflepuff Beater Gabrielle Truman, but Blackwood dodged like he's got eyes in the back of his head—and that Neptune broom is living up to the hype!"
"If Blackwood were a Seeker," Lee added, "I don't think even Harry Potter's Nimbus Two Thousand could keep up!"
"Jordan!" snapped Professor McGonagall from her seat beside him, rapping his shoulder with her wand. "This isn't a Gryffindor match. Less about brooms, more about the game!"
"Right—sorry, Professor!" Lee said sheepishly. "Back to the pitch! Adrian Blackwood's still on the move with the Quaffle. He's going solo—charging ahead like a lone knight. If he were King Arthur, where are Lancelot, Gawain, and Galahad? Flying solo into Hufflepuff's defense—brave, but reckless!"
Hands on his waist, Jordan muttered into the mic, "Quidditch is a team sport, mate…"
But just then, Roger Davies, Ravenclaw Captain and now playing as Beater, smashed the oncoming Bludger away with a resounding crack, sending it spinning toward Hufflepuff's end.
"WHO says Adrian has no teammates?!" Roger roared mid-air.
On cue, Ravenclaw's other two Chasers flared outward, spreading the field. The Batters focused their pressure on the Hufflepuff Chasers, pushing them wide to isolate Adrian. It was clearly a coordinated tactic—give Adrian room to break through solo, using his superior broom speed and reflexes.
If the defenders rushed him, he could pass to one of the unmarked Chasers. But if they hesitated… Adrian would go for goal himself.
"Smart play," Lee Jordan muttered. "They're letting Blackwood draw the defense like a magnet. The rest are ready to finish it if he passes… but he's not passing."
Now Adrian twisted his body and cut sharply to the right, dodging past Kobe Waltham, Hufflepuff's No. 8 Chaser, who had surged forward to block him. The move was smooth, precise—and devastating.
"HE'S THROUGH!" Jordan yelled. "Only the Keeper stands between him and the hoops!"
Hufflepuff's Keeper braced for the center ring, but Adrian faked left—then stopped mid-air with a brutal braking charm, spinning to the right and slamming the Quaffle into the far hoop.
GOOOOOOAL!
"Adrian Blackwood with the first score of the match!" Lee Jordan roared. "The youngest Chaser in a hundred years has just humiliated Hufflepuff's Keeper! What a fake-out!"
The Ravenclaw stands exploded with cheers, blue and bronze banners waving madly. On the sideline, Edward could be seen waving a giant enchanted banner that read "RAVENCLAW WILL WIN!"—with the names of all seven players glowing around a massive animated eagle that looked like it was about to burst from the fabric and take flight.
But the match was far from over.
Hufflepuff responded immediately, resetting the play and launching their counterattack. The Quaffle passed swiftly into the hands of Chaser Kobe, who was joined by his two teammates in a tight triangle formation.
"They're not giving Ravenclaw a moment to breathe!" Lee shouted. "That's the Hufflepuff resilience—they don't get discouraged, they just push harder!"
The trio passed rapidly, rotating the Quaffle with trained precision. The triangle spun like a wheel rolling upfield, forcing Ravenclaw onto the defensive.
Roger rallied the team, calling for a pullback, but Ravenclaw's usual weakness showed: as a house more reliant on finesse and precision than brute force, their physical defense lagged. They tried to intercept, but Hufflepuff's unified drive pushed straight toward the scoring zone.
"Hufflepuff's triangle formation is tearing through Ravenclaw's defense! They're closing in—and fast!"
The Ravenclaw stand held its breath, watching their team falter against the pounding pressure. Even with Neptune on their side, they would need more than a fancy broom to win this.
"Hey—it's Blackwood! Adrian Blackwood returns at incredible speed—it's a risky interception, but it pays off!" shouted Lee Jordan, voice echoing across the Quidditch pitch. "That was a gamble, and he pulled it off—he snatched the Quaffle straight from Hufflepuff's No. 5, Robert Horry!"
Lee sounded stunned. "Merlin's beard—I didn't even see how he intercepted it! It was in Daniel's hand one moment and gone the next."
No hesitation. Adrian dropped into a steep dive, the Quaffle cradled under his arm, his Neptune broom slicing through the air like a dart. "He doesn't even wait for his teammates—he's launching a solo fast break!" Lee hollered. "Hufflepuff can't regroup in time—and Blackwood, AGAIN, finds himself alone in front of the Keeper!"
The stands roared.
"No one saw that coming! Blackwood scores again! That's two goals on breakaways—and the game's barely started!"
"It's a clever strategy," Lee continued, voice shifting into thoughtful analysis. "Adrian Blackwood, a first-year, and clearly the shortest male player on the pitch, but he's sharp on defense—doesn't engage in unnecessary contact. He's using his agility and the Neptune's broom speed to his full advantage."
The match resumed at a blistering pace.
"Hufflepuff Keeper James Fitzpatrick manages one save, two even—but Ravenclaw keeps firing!" Lee said. "It's an offensive onslaught! This Blackwood kid—he's breaking their defensive rhythm!"
Hufflepuff's defense looked rattled.
"If they switch to man-marking, they'll have to rely on someone like No. 8, Kobe Macmillan, known for waking up at 4 a.m. to practice defensive drills," Jordan said with a chuckle. "Even he can't lock down Blackwood. You give him an inch, he'll dart through. Play him tight, and he'll pass—Ravenclaw is scoring off simple yet lethal combinations!"
"Three possessions—thirty points! Hufflepuff is being torn apart, and they're starting to lose their cool."
Indeed, the usually calm and methodical Hufflepuffs now looked like a frustrated herd of bulls, their formations breaking under Ravenclaw's relentless attack. While Ravenclaw's defense remained their weakest link, their offensive edge was too overwhelming, and the score began to widen.
"Only one card left in Hufflepuff's hand," Lee said. "And that's their golden boy—Cedric Diggory. If he can catch the Snitch, Hufflepuff might still snatch victory from the jaws of defeat."
As the game intensified, Professor McGonagall subtly jabbed Lee in the side with her wand.
"It's Kobe now—oops, sorry, Professor, I'm not making things up!"
"Carry on, Jordan," she said, her expression dignified as ever, though the tips of her ears were faintly pink.
From a few seats away, Professor Flitwick blinked at the exchange—clearly amused as he watched the young commentator react to the transfiguration professor's precise wand work.
"Still no sign of the Snitch?" Lee said, squinting toward the skies. "Honestly, have they put a Cloaking Charm on it?"
Just then, almost prophetically, his words were cut short.
Cho Chang, Ravenclaw's Seeker, suddenly dropped her broom nose-down into a steep dive toward the Ravenclaw stands. Gasps erupted. Students craned their necks to follow.
Cedric, flying nearby, spotted her movement and didn't hesitate—he surged forward in pursuit. Cho had clearly seen the Golden Snitch, and Cedric was right behind her.
Necks craned and binoculars focused as the two Seekers raced toward the floating Ravenclaw banner, still soaring above the stands with its massive enchanted eagle and the names of the players glowing in magical ink.
Cho didn't flinch. She drove straight toward the enchanted fabric at full speed.
Realizing she wasn't slowing down, Cedric Diggory made a desperate choice—he reached out, attempting to grab her broomtail to prevent a crash.
It was a clear foul, but the impact was unavoidable.
The two collided with the shimmering banner, tearing through it and tumbling mid-air—dozens of voices shouted in alarm.
Gasps rippled through the stands.
Professor Flitwick, reacting instantly, whipped out his wand and shouted "Arresto Momentum!" followed by a cushioning charm. The two Seekers, wrapped in the tangled remains of the banner, descended safely and tumbled to the grass in a clumsy roll.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle sharply, halting the match. Players dropped from the skies, racing over to check on the Seekers.
When Cho Chang stood, she raised a trembling hand—and between her fingers, gleaming in the sunlight, was the Golden Snitch.
For a brief moment, the stadium held its breath.
Then the stands erupted into thunderous applause.
Ravenclaw had won. Not just the match—but with that final score, they now pulled far ahead in the standings for the House Cup.
The joy of the Ravenclaw side clashed with the disappointment etched across Hufflepuff's supporters. But that's the nature of competition—one side's elation mirrors the other's heartbreak. Victory and defeat, glory and humility—all captured in ninety minutes of flight and fury.
As the players gathered, Madam Hooch commanded them to shake hands. The match, though intense, ended with sportsmanship.
Adrian, still catching his breath, moved through his post-match routine, following the wizarding physical training regimens taught by Professor McLane in his private sessions in the Room of Requirement. He didn't feel drained. His muscles could handle the strain—his nerves were what needed unwinding.
Today, Ravenclaw had soared—and so had he.