Harry Potter's Bastard

Quidditch matches are a great place for the crowd to let off steam, but for the players, the pressure is high, especially given the relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin, where whoever loses is embarrassed.

On the day of the game, Harry was surprised to find that Ron was the first to wake up in the dormitory, as Ron was usually the last to get up. Harry saw him sitting up straight, his arms clasped to his knees, his eyes glazed.

"Are you alright?" asked Harry. Ron nodded, but didn't speak. Harry couldn't help but think of Ron accidentally casting a slug-spitting spell on himself, he looked the same as he had then, pale, sweaty, and unwilling to open his mouth to speak.

"You need to have some breakfast," Harry said encouragingly, "and go." As they walked into the auditorium, it was rapidly filling up, talking louder than usual and in a more lively atmosphere. As they walked past the Slytherin table, they heard a boo, and they were pouring out malice on Harry and Ron, Harry was used to it, but Ron's condition seemed to be worse.

They were warmly welcomed at the Gryffindor table, where each was dressed in gold and red scarves and hats. But instead of cheering Ron uplifted, the cheers seemed to suck away the last bit of his morale. He sat down on the nearest stool, as if his severed head was in front of him.

"I must be crazy to do this," he whispered in a hoarse voice, "crazy." "

"Don't talk nonsense," Harry said sternly, handing him some cereal, "you're fine, it's normal to be nervous." I was nervous the first time I played, but trust me, just wait until you get on the court. "

"I'm trash," Ron said, "I'm useless, I can't play at all." What do I think?"

"Don't be discouraged," Harry said firmly, "look at the ball you saved with your foot in training that day, even Fred and George said it was wonderful—"

Ron looked at Harry in pain.

"It was an accident," he whispered pitifully, "it was an accident—I slipped off my broomstick, and you didn't see it, and I happened to kick the Quaffle just as I was trying to climb up." "

"Oh," Harry quickly recovered from the disastrous accident, "a few more accidents like this, and we'll win, won't we?"

Hermione and Ginny sat across from them, wearing gold and red scarves, gloves, and rosettes.

"How do you feel?" asked Ron, who was staring at the remnants of the milk cereal in the bowl, as if seriously considering whether to drown himself in it.

"I think Angelina should let you go. Ron didn't dare to look at his sister, "You fly better than me, but it seems too late now." "

Ginny also participated in the team's selection and training this year, but Angelina chose Ron when it came time to decide who to play.

After a hasty breakfast, the team members left the castle early. The frosty grass creaked beneath their feet, and they hurried down the slope to the pitch. There is no wind and the sky is uniformly pearl-white, which means that visibility is good, but there is no glare from the sun. Harry pointed out these advantages to Ron as he walked, but couldn't figure out if Ron had heard it.

Angelina had already changed her clothes and was speaking to the rest of the team. Harry and Ron put on their shirts, Ron wore them backwards at first, but Angelina was moved by compassion and came to his aid. They sat down to listen to the pre-match lecture as the crowd outside grew louder and louder as people poured from the castle onto the pitch.

"I saw the final Slytherin lineup," Angelina said, looking at a piece of parchment, "Last year's batsmen, Drake and Bol, are gone, but Montey seems to have found two new gorillas, not particularly good flyers." These two are Crabbe and Goyle, and I don't know much about them—"

"We understand. Harry and Ron said together.

"They can't even tell the end of a broomstick. Harry said with a smile.

Angelina put away the parchment and said, "But then again, I've always wondered how Derek and Bol could have found the pitch without a signpost. "

"Crabbe and Goyle are also all the way. Harry reassured her.

Harry's first game of the year can be said to be free of tension, Slytherin's routine is very familiar to him, although Draco has not won against him, but he is indeed the best fly in the Slytherin team, now that Draco has left the team, Harry feels that Slytherin's new Seeker can't stop himself and his fire bolts at all.

They heard the sound of countless feet coming up to the stands. The crowd is already seated, so that means the game will start soon. Harry found Ron clutching his stomach, his eyes glazed over, his expression stiff, and his face pale.

"Hey!" Harry stood in front of Ron, "Listen to Ron! We're going to win!

"It's time," said Angelina, looking at her watch at this time, and exclaimed, "Let's go, and good luck to us." "

The team stood up, took their broomsticks, and marched out of the locker room into the dazzling sunlight to be greeted with thunder, and the remaining three houses were cheering them on except for Slytherin, who remained silent.

The Slytherins were already standing there, and Harry felt that they shouldn't be called Slytherin, but "Death Eater Reserve Squad" or something, and look at the people opposite: Goyle, Crabbe, Noether...... It's all about Death Eaters.

"The captains shook hands," the referee called out Mrs. Hooch, and Angelina and Monty came together. Harry could tell Monty was trying to pinch Angelina's finger, but she didn't winch.

"Get on a broomstick!"

Mrs. Hodge shoved the whistle into her mouth and blew it hard.

When kick-off came, fourteen players took to the air, and there seemed to be a sudden explosion in the audience, and the students began to shout hoarsely.

The noisy environment made Solim grin.

"Oh my God, that's too noisy. Solim's face was wrinkled like sun-dried mud, "Why are Slytherins like crazy here?"

"Y-say-what-" Sylna covered her ears and looked at Solim.

"I said—so-no-no-," Solim was sure he was shouting, but he couldn't hear his own voice, his voice was completely muffled by the shouts around him.

Rolling his eyes, Solim's hand moved in his robe. In an instant, the surroundings of Solim and Sylna fell silent, and the mouths of the students around them opened and closed, but they couldn't make any sound, or rather, their voices couldn't reach Solim's side.

"You're so boring. Sylna glanced at her brother, "Look at the ball and use spells." "