Chapter 157: This One's in the Bag
Chapter 157: This One's in the Bag
As the time approached eleven o'clock, the students and faculty of Hogwarts made their way to the Quidditch stadium to witness the much-anticipated match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.
Albert and Lee Jordan joined the crowd, making their way to the highest tier of the stadium stands, telescopes in hand, to get the best view of the action.
Many others had the same idea, and Albert greeted several familiar faces along the way, eventually joining a discussion about Gryffindor's chances of claiming the Quidditch Cup.
Most of the Gryffindor students took great pride in their house, and they longed to see their team break Slytherin's monopoly on both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup.
This was their best opportunity yet.
A win in this match would secure the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor, and they would do so with an undefeated record. Furthermore, Gryffindor would surpass Slytherin in points and secure first place overall.
However, as was often the case, reality unfolded a little differently from expectations. Ravenclaw proved to be a formidable opponent, and they managed to maintain a slim lead over Gryffindor in the early stages of the game.
Of course, this situation was only temporary.
Charlie had driven his team to pursue the Quidditch Cup with relentless passion, and his rigorous training of the team was about to pay off. Gryffindor began to flex their muscles, quickly catching up and then surpassing Ravenclaw in points.
Yet, Ravenclaw's performance continued to impress, and they regained their slim lead just ten minutes after Gryffindor took the advantage.
The game evolved into a back-and-forth battle, with both teams refusing to yield. The audience in the stands erupted into continuous cheers as they witnessed the intense clashes on the pitch. Even Albert, who was generally ambivalent about Quidditch, couldn't help but be drawn into the thrilling atmosphere.
"What a thrilling match! The score is currently tied at 100-110, with Ravenclaw maintaining a slight lead," the commentator, a proud Ravenclaw student, exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement and a hint of pride.
"At this point, the first team to catch the Golden Snitch will emerge victorious! Both Seekers are locked in a fierce battle, neither willing to let the other break free and make a move for the Snitch," the commentator shouted, his voice carrying across the stadium.
The high-intensity and fast-paced nature of the game meant that the players were expending a lot of energy. It was now halftime, and Charlie took the opportunity to regroup his team and discuss strategy adjustments.
"Ahem, my throat is a bit sore," Lee Jordan said, turning to Albert. His voice was hoarse from all the cheering. "Do you happen to have any water with you?"
"I don't have water, but I do have candy if you want," Albert replied, giving his roommate a bemused look. It seemed Lee had been cheering at the top of his lungs.
"No thanks, eating candy would just make my throat feel worse," Lee declined, shaking his head.
"I thought so too," Albert muttered as he unwrapped a chocolate candy and popped it into his mouth. "You know, if you didn't shout so loudly, your throat wouldn't hurt so much."
"What do you mean 'shouting loudly'? I'm just cheering for our team!" Lee exclaimed, looking at Albert in shock. "How can you stay so calm during such an exciting match?"
Albert sighed softly. He understood that some people enjoyed expressing their enthusiasm by shouting during games, creating a lively atmosphere. However, that simply wasn't his style. At most, he would clap along with the crowd when Gryffindor scored.
Lee Jordan: "..."
It sounded like it made sense, but it didn't! When watching a game, the most important thing was to cheer loudly for your favorite team! "This game truly is incredible," Albert admitted.
Noticing that Lee Jordan seemed to have more to say, Albert decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. "I bet Fred and George would be furious to find out they missed such an exciting match. They might just break out of their detention and come running over to watch."
"They'd probably go crazy," Lee agreed, feeling a bit sorry for his roommates. This match was too good to miss, a fitting finale to determine the ultimate champion.
Whether it was the battle for the Quaffle, the strategic use of the Bludgers, or the pursuit of the Golden Snitch, both teams showcased exceptional skills and unexpected tactics.
"It might be a while before the second half starts. If you're thirsty, you can head back to the castle to get some water and then come back," Albert suggested, scanning the stadium with his binoculars. The most agitated group in the stands, by far, was the Slytherin contingent.
Most Slytherin students were hoping for a Gryffindor loss, as it was their only chance to surpass Gryffindor in overall points and claim the Quidditch championship. Slytherin had dominated the Quidditch Cup for far too long, and they viewed both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup as their birthright, unwilling to share the glory with any other house.
"I wonder if those grumbling Slytherin students are cursing us, wishing for our defeat," Albert mused, his eyes drifting to the Slytherin players. He couldn't help but find the situation amusing.
"Slytherin? Cursing? Where? Let me see," Lee said, moving the telescope towards the group of whispering Slytherin students and breaking into a smile. "This year's Quidditch championship belongs to Gryffindor, right?"
"Yes, victory for Gryffindor," Albert affirmed.
"Good, then it's in the bag?" Lee asked.
"What do you mean, 'in the bag'?" Angelina, sitting above them, asked curiously.
"Gryffindor is going to win!" Lee declared, full of confidence in Albert. "Whenever this guy opens his mouth and makes a prediction, it comes true. If he says Gryffindor will win, they probably will."
Albert: "..." Believe in science... I mean, believe in magic, folks! The people around them turned to stare at Albert, curious about Lee Jordan's assertion. Could it be that Albert's predictions really came true...?
"Hey, no need to look at me like that," Albert said, rolling his eyes. "If random predictions were all it took, why would I bother working hard? I might as well predict that I'll graduate with twelve O.W.L.s and seven N.E.W.T.s, all with Outstanding grades."
The group exchanged glances, unsure how to respond, but Albert continued, "Then, let's see... I'll date two or three girlfriends, publish two or three books, win two or three championship trophies... After graduation, I'll make a ton of money without even working, and live a happy and carefree life."
Albert's words drew chuckles from the group, and someone asked, "What are you doing, making wishes?"
"Yes, I'm making wishes," Albert said matter-of-factly. "Since Lee Jordan claims my predictions are accurate, I might as well take advantage and make some wishes for myself. If they somehow come true, I'll be set for life."
The group fell silent, struck by the uniqueness of Albert's train of thought. They couldn't deny that his logic made a strange kind of sense.
"So, you're aiming for twelve O.W.L.s and seven N.E.W.T.s?"
"Shan'na felt that Albert was very ambitious," exclaimed one of the girls. "And on top of that, he plans to get Outstanding in all of them?"
In Shan'na's opinion, obtaining twelve O.W.L.s and seven N.E.W.T.s with Outstanding grades might not be too difficult for Albert, given his talent and abilities. However, she found his aspirations a bit excessive.
"And you intend to publish three books as well?" Alia scrutinized Albert. "Before graduation, no less? May I ask what kind of books you plan to write?"
"I think wanting three championship trophies is even more outrageous!" Lee Jordan interjected.
"I think that's more plausible," another student chimed in. "Once he joins the Gryffindor team next year, who knows, he might just help Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup."
"Ahem, you all took my words too seriously," Albert said, feeling a bit exasperated. He was merely venting to deter Lee Jordan from always touting his predictions as accurate.
If his predictions were truly that accurate, he'd rather forecast winning the jackpot lottery and becoming an overnight millionaire. Then he wouldn't have to bother with the hassle of a career in finance.
"Is there something, Katrina?" Albert smiled and greeted the red-haired girl standing before him with a disdainful gaze.
"You're quite greedy, aren't you? Three girlfriends aren't enough, and now you want to make a fortune without working?" Katrina eyed Albert up and down.
Albert paid little heed to Katrina's words and jested, "What brings you here? Aren't you afraid of being accused of defecting to another house?"
"Someone wants to see you," Katrina said abruptly.
"Who?" Albert asked.
"Mr. Smith. He's a friend of Professor Broad's and was also a close friend of my father's. He must have heard about you and wants to meet you," Katrina explained her purpose for approaching him.
"Smith?" Albert frowned slightly.
"He's waiting at the east exit of the stadium. Come with me," Katrina turned and left. As Albert had pointed out, her presence there wasn't exactly appropriate.
"Oh!" Albert acknowledged and made his way towards the exit. He noticed the two figures standing there—one was his old acquaintance, Isabel McDougal, and the other must be Mr. Smith.
"Hello, Mr. Anderson," Mr. Smith approached with a broad smile and introduced himself. "I'm Rowena, Rowena Smith. You may not have heard of me, but I often hear about you from Mog and Bard. I've been eager to meet the youngest Master of Ancient Runes in history."
"Master of Ancient Runes?"
Albert's expression stiffened, but he managed to force a polite smile and clarified, "I wouldn't call myself a master. I merely have a basic understanding of ancient runes."
"Humility is a virtue, but excessive humility can make one seem insincere," Mr. Smith smiled as he offered his opinion.
His words struck a chord with the two girls, who wholeheartedly agreed. Indeed, this guy was insincere.
"Insincere, do you think?" Albert didn't take offense but turned the question around. "Have you ever heard anyone call a twelve-year-old a master?"
"Haha, Mr. Anderson has a point there. Indeed, no one would call a twelve-year-old a master," Rowena found Albert intriguing and continued to appraise him. "I believe we have much to discuss. Shall we walk and talk?"
What was this person trying to achieve? Albert was perplexed but had no doubt that Rowena Smith was an expert in his field.
It was only natural for experts to be friends with other experts.
"So, do these so-called experts and masters enjoy flattering each other when they meet?" Isabel's mouth twitched.
The two men were oblivious to Isabel's thoughts as they walked and chatted, discovering they had quite a few topics in common.
What surprised Smith was that Albert had been sorted into Gryffindor. "So, you're saying Gryffindor isn't just about recklessness?" Albert wasn't bothered by the house he had been sorted into. "What about Dumbledore? He was sorted into Gryffindor as well, wasn't he?"
"That's true," Smith didn't dwell on the matter and steered the conversation towards other areas.
Albert was impressed by Smith's breadth of knowledge, but little did he know that Smith was even more astonished by Albert's unique insights across various fields.
Considering Albert hadn't even completed his first year at Hogwarts, Smith struggled to find a word other than "genius" to describe him.
Unbeknownst to them, Albert's prediction about the Quidditch match was coming true. The back-and-forth battle between the two teams persisted, suggesting the game might drag on until evening.
"I wonder why Uncle Rowena wanted to meet that guy," Katrina mused. She had initially thought Smith's visit was related to her father's research, but it seemed otherwise.
"Who knows? Don't worry about them. Let's head back to the stands and continue watching the game," Isabel glanced at the two figures and pulled her sister away.
To be honest, the conversation between Albert and Smith wasn't very friendly to those around them.
In the McDougal sisters' opinion, the two men started chattering incessantly the moment they met, leaving them with a headache as they couldn't understand a word.
The match dragged on until 8 p.m., finally concluding with a weary Charlie catching the Golden Snitch.
No one could have imagined that Albert's prophecy would come true. Earlier, he had said:
"Maybe the match won't be over by the time your detention ends."
And indeed, victory went to Gryffindor.
In fact, both his predictions had come to pass.
Fred and George's detention ended at 7 p.m., and they rushed to the stadium without even having dinner, just in time to catch the end of the game.
"That was a spectacular match," Mr. Smith congratulated Gryffindor. "Congratulations."
"Thank you," Albert replied.
"I must be going now," Mr. Smith turned to leave but paused and added, "We will meet again soon, and I look forward to your letter."
"Of course," Albert agreed.
As Mr. Smith walked away, Albert shifted his gaze to the center of the pitch, where the Gryffindor team members were embracing each other in celebration. Charlie held the trophy high, announcing Gryffindor's triumph in the Quidditch Cup.
Albert spotted a relieved Professor McGonagall, disappointed Ravenclaw students, and sullen Slytherin students.
He strode towards the pitch.
Outside the stadium, Mr. Smith strolled across the grass when a figure appeared beside him without warning—it was Dumbledore.
"Well?" Dumbledore inquired with a smile.
"It was a splendid Quidditch match," Mr. Smith praised without hesitation. "Regarding that matter, I agree."
"That's wonderful!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Would you care to join me for dinner in the Great Hall?"
"No, I think I'll head back now. There's no need to rush," Mr. Smith bid Dumbledore farewell and walked towards Hogsmeade.
(End of Chapter)
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