Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Quidditch stadium, braving the wind and snow to witness the first Quidditch match of Hogwarts’ new school year.”

“I’m your commentator, Lee Jordan, and it’s an honor to provide the play-by-play for today’s game.”

“The teams were drawn beforehand, and today’s match-up will be between: Hufflepuff, the logistics powerhouse, and Slytherin, the special operations unit.”

“As we all know, Slytherin has quite the reputation for... well, being the disgrace of the Quidditch pitch—cough—sorry, Professor McGonagall, the truth just slipped out.”

“Let’s wish Hufflepuff good luck! With their new players, maybe they’ll finally score some better results.”

“Look, both teams are now entering the pitch. As always, the referee is Madam Hooch, who’s currently giving the usual instructions—though it doesn’t really matter much for Slytherin. They tend to... well, never mind that. The match is about to begin!”

Madam Hooch stood in the center of the field with a large chest at her feet. The Golden Snitch had already been released in full view of both teams. Now, only the Quaffle and Bludgers remained in the chest.

“Captains, shake hands.”

At her command, Chris and Slytherin’s towering captain, Marcus, gritted their teeth as they shook hands. It was clear that Chris, despite his best efforts, was at a slight disadvantage in the grip. Marcus looked like he had a bit of troll blood in him, his appearance somewhat less human than most.

“Listen, I expect you all to play fairly and honestly.”

“Now, mount your brooms and wait for my whistle to start the game.”

The Bludgers were released, and the Quaffle was now in Madam Hooch’s hands. With a powerful toss, the Quaffle was thrown into the air, and she blew her silver whistle.

The game had begun!

Fifteen brooms of various makes soared into the sky. Though they were all equipped with flame extinguishers, the magical world never missed a chance to add some flair. Multicolored flames shot from the broom tails, creating a rainbow trail across the sky.

“Hufflepuff’s new Chaser, Harry Potter, is the first to ascend! If I didn’t know he was riding the latest Nimbus 2000, I’d suspect him of taking off early!”

“Look at that graceful flying! The first possession—Marcus from Slytherin is crashing into Harry! I knew these dirty cheats couldn’t keep it clean!”

Lee Jordan’s commentary was rapid-fire, almost as if he were casting a machine-gun-like barrage of spells. As a Quidditch commentator, quick wit was just as crucial as any other talent.

“Will Harry dodge? This is his first official game! It’s disgraceful to use such tactics against a newcomer—"

“He’s crashing into Marcus! Harry’s crashing into Marcus!”

“He didn’t dodge! Instead, he adjusted his flight and rammed right into him!”

“Harry has secured the Quaffle—and Marcus? Congratulations to him for a flawless free fall!”

“Madam Hooch isn’t blowing the whistle, the game continues!”

Even though there wasn’t a score, the crowd erupted in cheers. Everyone had grown tired of Slytherin’s brutish antics, and seeing one of their ‘gorillas’ take a hit had the students buzzing with excitement. Though, there was some concern about whether this might affect Harry’s future in the game.

But Harry? He just shrugged it off. Compared to taking punches in a boxing ring, that bump from Marcus was nothing. In fact, Marcus’s oversized bulk didn’t even qualify as a decent punching bag in Harry’s eyes.

“Hufflepuff’s attack has always been their weak point. While their defense is solid, opening with such an aggressive play—could Harry’s addition finally balance their offense?!”

“Wait! What’s Potter doing now? Is he playing defense, or is he just showing off the speed of the Nimbus 2000?”

Lee Jordan was just as puzzled as the audience. Harry, with the Quaffle in hand, continued circling and accelerating, as if he were trying out some new technique.

“Harry’s now reaching the speed limits of a normal broom! He’s already hit two hundred—two hundred thirty kilometers per hour—and he’s still accelerating!”

“At this speed, can he even tell which side of the pitch is Slytherin’s goal?”

“This is unbelievable! What is Hufflepuff doing? A player can only hold the Quaffle for thirty seconds—did Chris forget to explain the rules to Harry?!”

“He’s pulling up!”

As Jordan’s voice echoed across the pitch, the young witches and wizards tilted their heads back to follow Harry’s movement. He had abruptly pulled into a ninety-degree climb, becoming just a small dot in the sky.

“First shot!” Harry, now completing a high-speed arc in midair, turned back toward the pitch, his body crouched low on his broom. A faint smile crossed his face as he felt the exhilaration of the maneuver.

His quiet chuckle was swallowed by the howling wind. No one could hear the menacing sound, and in that moment, Harry’s Nimbus 2000 broke through its top speed as he dove.

A flash of yellow, as quick as lightning, streaked across the sky, too fast for the human eye to fully capture. Moving at an incredible 111 meters per second, Harry’s descent was like a bolt of lightning crashing into the Quidditch pitch, bringing a ferocious gust of wind in its wake.

Miles Bletchley, Slytherin’s hulking Keeper, had always relied on his massive frame to block shots. Simply by standing in front of the goalposts, he could cover most of the scoring area. With three hoops, it was hard enough to score against him without his sheer size making things near impossible.

But now, terror flashed in Miles’s eyes as the distant speck in the sky became a direct threat, hurtling toward him. His pupils shrank to pinpoints, and his normally bulky body froze in fear.

“Lunatic! Lunatic!! Lunatic!!!”

Miles, fully aware that if Harry’s speeding broom collided with him, there wouldn’t even be enough of him left to piece together, teetered on the edge of a breakdown.

“Mummy! I don’t want to die!”

As the yellow blur filled his entire vision, Miles’s mental defenses crumbled. In sheer panic, he flung himself sideways off his broom with a desperate push. Even if he broke an arm or leg in the fall, anything was better than becoming a bloody explosion in front of the goalposts.

But his foot caught on the invisible stirrup of his broom! The out-of-control broom dragged his heavy body, flipping him into a somersault in midair.

The roaring wind and cacophony of noise overwhelmed him. As the gale-force winds swept over him, Miles spun like an overstuffed top. He felt something whiz past his head with a sharp ‘whoosh.’

“BANG!”

The ear-splitting crack of a pillar shattering pierced the eerie silence of the pitch. The Quaffle, now somewhat deformed, had embedded itself in the thickest column of the stands. Smoke rose from the impact, accompanied by the acrid scent of burning. Screams of alarm filled the air.

“Ding~”

With a trembling hand, Lee Jordan struck the scoring bell, his lips quivering as he managed to stammer a few words:

“10:0, Hufflepuff leads.”

With Death itself seemingly urging them to play nice, Slytherin—uncharacteristically—didn’t resort to dirty tricks again for the rest of the match.

A rare game of fairness and honesty continued, though it had already been decided from the first devastating strike.

The peaceful play carried on until the ever-gentle Cedric Diggory finally caught the Golden Snitch, bringing an end to what had essentially been a foregone conclusion.

“1150:0.”

“Hufflepuff wins.”

Completely drained, Lee Jordan rang the bell one last time before collapsing back into his seat, now frozen by the biting wind.

(End of chapter)