Of course, there was another reason...
According to Hogwarts tradition, Quidditch matches usually end around mealtimes. Hogwarts, known for its hospitality, never cruelly turns away visiting guests from the dinner table.

Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, had heard about Hogwarts' culinary delights from his colleagues. He hadn't had a suitable opportunity to visit Hogwarts until now, when he finally found a justifiable reason: if the First Years' team won, Dumbledore hoped he could recommend some of the young wizards for trials with the national team during the holidays.

According to Dumbledore, accommodation would be provided by welcoming wizarding families near the training grounds. The only requirement was that the children spend most of their time on the pitch, playing or training.

For Ludo Bagman, this was just a matter of signing a piece of paper, so he readily agreed.

Meanwhile, in the players' locker room.

The players of the First Year team solemnly changed into their exclusive silver-white robes. Everyone was silent during the changing process. If all went as expected, this would be the last time they wore these uniforms for a game.

Ron Weasley carefully touched the team robe on his body. He didn't know if others felt the same way, but it felt like his farewell match. He wished time could slow down infinitely.

*Boop*~

While Ron was still daydreaming, he felt a soft, cool touch on his forehead. A faint fragrance quickly swept through his nostrils, and a few strands of silver hair lightly brushed his face.

It felt like a century had passed, yet also like a mere instant.

Ron immediately realized what had happened, his face and ears turning red almost instantly. He felt like his ears were now the same color as his hair, radiating heat.

Beside him, the expressions of Harry, Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe, and the other young boys were similar. The only one with a normal complexion was Hannah, who was inseparable from Erina every day.

"Everyone, the final battle has arrived!"

After kissing the players' foreheads one by one, Erina clapped her hands with a smile. A bright glimmer sparkled in her lake-blue eyes, and she spoke in a melodious tone that sounded like singing to Ron.

"Let's take down those Slytherins together and win this final match cleanly!"

*Boom!*

With Erina's voice, Ron felt the blood in his body boil. A few blood vessels inadvertently surfaced in his eyes, and all the confusion and anxiety disappeared, replaced by an extreme desire for victory.

"Take them down!"
"Win the game!"
"Tear through their defenses!"
"No one can stop our victory!"

Everything else in the world seemed unimportant at this moment. As long as they could protect this smile, this voice, and this team's victory, he would dare to charge forward and tear through their defenses, even if the opponents were all riding dragons.

"Alright, it's time. Let's go."

Ron followed Malfoy and Harry out of the locker room, heading towards the pitch. A wave of noise crashed over them.

More than three-quarters of the young wizards waved flags emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest, or silver flags with wings spread outward. Over two hundred young wizards behind the Slytherin goalposts wore green ornaments, but their voices were completely drowned out by the cheers and shouts of most of the school.

"The Hogwarts First Year Team is coming onto the field!"

Lee Jordan, the commentator for the match, shouted excitedly.

"Casslana, Abbott, Potter, Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe, Weasley, this is the first mixed-house team in Hogwarts history, and also the strongest First Year team destined to be remembered in Hogwarts Quidditch history!"

"Oh, the Slytherin team is also on the field. Leading them is Captain Flint. This is a strong team that has won the Quidditch House Cup twice in a row, but unfortunately, their historical record against the First Year team is all losses."

In the increasingly loud noise, the two teams slowly approached Madam Hooch in the center of the field.

"Captains shake hands!" Madam Hooch said.

Erina and Flint stepped forward, quickly touched hands, and let go without saying much.

Marcus Flint had intended to take the opportunity to say some trash talk, but when his eyes met the gazes of the young wizards behind Erina, he suddenly felt a chill and an extremely bad premonition surfaced in his heart.

He had never seen such terrifying and crazy gazes. Even Draco Malfoy, who usually seemed the easiest to bully, was like this. It was as if he was not facing a group of first-year students, but a group of dragons that had been starving for several days.

What exactly happened to these lower-year students?

"Everyone, mount your brooms and listen for my whistle!"

Before Flint could figure out what was going on, Madam Hooch's calm voice came from his ear.

"Three... Two... One..."

Madam Hooch's whistle was drowned out by the cheers around them, and fifteen brooms quickly rose into the sky.

Marcus Flint stared intently at the Quaffle thrown high into the air, confidently reaching out as usual, preparing to control the first right to attack with his arm length. However, the ominous premonition he had before taking off quickly turned into reality.

*Smack!*

"Unbelievable! The First Year team took the Quaffle first! Ron Weasley pierced through Flint's arm like a flame and flicked the Quaffle into the hands of Draco Malfoy to the side. The Slytherin team did not seem to have anticipated losing the Quaffle at the start, and all the players flew forward in the first instance!"

"Foul! Flint hit Malfoy hard from behind, and the Quaffle slipped out of Draco Malfoy's hand from his shoulder—wait! Hannah Abbott appeared in the Quaffle's position, this is not a fumble—this is a backward pass! Ron Weasley is also flying beside Hannah—wow! Goyle and Crabbe actually performed relay strikes, and Marcus was directly hit by the cornered Bludger and fell to the rear—now it is a standard Hippogriff attack of three against one. The Quaffle is being passed back and forth between the three, and goalkeeper Bletchley cannot resist at all—the Quaffle is passed to Malfoy—beautiful, goal! Ten to zero, the Hogwarts First Year Team is in the lead!"

Draco Malfoy waved his fist forcefully and glided quickly across the field. He turned his head to look at Marcus Flint, who was arriving late, and his eyes seemed to be burning with two scorching flames.

Flint's cheeks twisted, and his face darkened as he charged towards Malfoy, seemingly wanting to knock him straight down.

Facing Marcus Flint charging towards him, Draco Malfoy turned his broom handle to meet Marcus's broom without any intention of dodging, his eyes red and not afraid at all.

At the moment when the two brooms were about to collide, Flint rolled to the side in a somewhat embarrassed manner, making way for the passage, and roared loudly at Draco Malfoy's back with a pale face.

"Bastard! Are you crazy?!"

"This is the first! There are fourteen more!"

After swerving away, Draco Malfoy quickly corrected his broom and hovered in mid-air, looking at Flint calmly. Although he was slightly worse than Harry in terms of emergency braking talent, he was far superior to the clumsy Marcus Flint.

"You! Fine, you're asking for death!" Flint's expression became more and more ferocious, and he was about to continue crashing into Malfoy.

"Enough!" At this moment, Madam Hooch shouted sharply and flew between the two, "Foul! Deliberately colliding with the Chaser, penalty kick for the Hogwarts First Year team! Malfoy, next time you do this again, you will also receive a penalty!"

In Madam Hooch's whistle, Malfoy flew to the Slytherin goal for a penalty kick.

"I'm starting to look at you differently, Draco!" Lee Jordan shouted excitedly on the commentary platform, "That's right! The exact same angle, he once again broke through goalkeeper Bletchley's defense! The Hogwarts First Year Team is leading by twenty to zero!"

With Draco Malfoy's first two goals, the entire game instantly entered a white-hot stage. Both the Slytherin team and the First Year team seemed like mortal enemies, colliding and confronting each other in the sky.

Although the first years were slightly weaker in physical fitness, with a courage that seemed to come from nowhere, everyone seemed to have improved two or three levels in strength, reaction, and endurance, and forcibly resisted this Quidditch champion team from the past two years.

Of course, the most important thing was...

Just like the pre-match arrangement, Malfoy, Goyle, and the others only needed to focus on attacking.

"—Slytherin has possession of the ball, it's the same situation as before, all the members of the First Year team are staying in the half-court position without returning to defense. Now it's the Slytherin's three chasers and two beaters attacking the First Year team's goal—they are facing Erina Casslana's goal—oh my god, Erina has blocked the ball again!"

"World-class! This is world-class flying and reaction speed. Erina Casslana proves with facts that no matter what position she is in, she is the silver-white monarch soaring in the skies of Hogwarts! Wait! This time she caught the Quaffle, it's not dead ball time, now the ball is in Erina Casslana's hands!"

Lee Jordan's voice suddenly became excited, as if he was looking forward to something.

*Boom!*

In the next moment, along with the whistling wind, a straight air hole pierced through the entire Hogwarts field, shooting straight towards the Slytherin goalpost on the other end of the field.

All the Slytherin players blocking the path quickly raised their brooms to avoid being knocked down directly.

*Bang! Ding!*

The Quaffle hit the metal goalpost, making a frightening loud noise. Under everyone's gaze, the Slytherin goalpost clearly swayed, as if it had just been hit by a rampaging dragon.

"Tsk, missed again? It's so far away, it's really hard to aim!"

Erina shook her wrist, revealing a dangerous smile, and glanced at the scoreboard next to the field.

"Sixty to zero, you have to work hard! Catch the Golden Snitch as soon as possible to escape the game!"

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Chapter Two!! Oh my!!!
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