"I hate this weather!" Albert grumbled as he removed his winter cloak and reached for the Quidditch uniform Charlie handed him. He slipped it on quickly.
Fred and George were already dressed, spinning around each other and showing off their outfits with exaggerated flair.
"That uniform suits you," Irene said with a smile. "You're using Mark's Nimbus Six—it's the fastest broom among us."
"I'm lending it to you for now," Mark added, patting Albert's shoulder with a grin. "You'll need it to catch the golden snitch."
"Don't worry, I'll catch it." Albert squinted at his task panel while no one was watching. Sure enough, a new quest had appeared:
Delayed Victory
This Quidditch match has dragged on long enough.
Catch the golden snitch and secure Gryffindor's win.
Reward: 500 experience.
"These are goggles," Charlie instructed, handing them out. "When the match restarts, Albert will fly high to search for the snitch. Don't worry about anyone else, just focus. Fred, George—you two protect him. Let Albert end this match quickly. I don't want it dragging into the evening."
"You've got so much faith in me?" Albert muttered, suddenly feeling the weight of expectation.
"Of course. What else can we do?" Charlie replied matter-of-factly. "Everyone believes you'll catch it."
"That sounds reasonable." Albert picked up his wand, cast a Flame-Freezing Charm on his goggles, slipped them on, and followed the team outside.
Rain poured down, soaking him instantly.
"It's unbelievable—half of Gryffindor's reserve team are first-years. Have they given up? Or is this their secret weapon?" the commentator exclaimed as Gryffindor's reserves appeared.
Spectators were puzzled. Older students usually flew better than first-years. Could this really be Gryffindor's hidden strategy?
Slytherin supporters scoffed, convinced Gryffindor had simply run out of options.
Albert stood on the pitch, listening to the cheers. Instead of nervousness, he felt his blood boiling. This was nothing like watching from the stands.
He ignored Madam Hooch's words. The moment the whistle blew, he mounted his broom and shot into the sky.
Rain blurred his vision. He could barely make out teammates, let alone the snitch.
The Slytherin Seeker hovered nearby but didn't attack. Their eyes met; he nodded slightly. Not all Slytherins were violent, it seemed.
Both Seekers circled warily, waiting for opportunity.
"Watch out, don't get distracted!" George shouted, knocking away a bludger aimed at Albert. He brandished his bat at the Slytherin Seeker but didn't strike.
Minutes passed. Albert was nearly frozen stiff, but he knew patience was key.
Then—a flash of gold near the Slytherin scoring hoop.
Albert tilted his broom forward, diving at full speed. Was it the snitch? He couldn't be sure, but he had to gamble. If he was right, Gryffindor would win. If not, nothing was lost.
He lay flat on the Nimbus Six, pushing it to its limit. The Slytherin Seeker immediately gave chase.
"Gryffindor's young Seeker is accelerating! Has he found the snitch? The Slytherin Seeker is far behind—will Gryffindor win in just ten minutes?" the commentator shouted.
"Look! The Slytherin Keeper is moving to intercept, with two Chasers closing in! Gryffindor's Seeker is in danger!"
Albert's situation was worse than described.
As he crossed paths with the Keeper, Albert tilted sharply, dodging a swinging fist. His elbow rose at the perfect moment, striking the Keeper's chin and knocking out several teeth.
Albert sped onward. He saw it clearly now—the golden snitch, circling the hoop and darting toward the wall.
"It's the snitch! Merlin's beard! Gryffindor's Seeker dodged the attack—he truly is their secret weapon!"
Just as Albert reached for it, a bat hurtled toward him. Hearing the whoosh, he rolled into a sloth grip maneuver, narrowly dodging. The bat flew into the stands—whether it struck someone was unclear.
"Closer—it's closer now!" Albert stretched out his arm. His fingers closed around the snitch. He yanked his broom upward at a ninety-degree angle, avoiding a crash into the stands.
"We won!"
Albert stared at the snitch in his hand, grinning with triumph.
Chaos erupted below. The Slytherin players chasing him couldn't brake in time and crashed into the stands.
As Albert descended, he caught Snape's grim gaze. He raised the snitch high, smiling broadly, waving it to the crowd.
"Caught it! Gryffindor's youngest Seeker has caught the golden snitch—in just twelve minutes! Gryffindor wins!" the commentator roared. "Defeated by a first-year! Incredible!"
No one cared about the teasing. The stands thundered with cheers.
As Albert landed, Fred, George, and the rest of the team tackled him in a jubilant group hug. Charlie and others rushed from the changing room, waving wildly.
Before Albert could process it, he was hoisted into the air, tossed up by the crowd. Floating wasn't comfortable, but for Albert, it was exhilarating—a novel experience he would never forget.