"So scary~"
Aileen rapidly circled around the three goal hoops, narrowly blocking the Quaffle thrown by Marcus Flint, once again thwarting the Slytherin team's four-player pincer attack.

Immediately afterwards, the girl carefully aimed at the Slytherin player directly in front of her—no, the goal—a joyful smile appearing on the corner of her mouth as she gently tossed the Quaffle, the thirty-odd silver stars on her broom shimmering in the sunlight.

If anyone had prior knowledge of sports in the non-magical world, they would have recognized that Aileen's posture was somewhat similar to the forceful movement of serving in volleyball, her right hand, drawn back like an archer's, seeming to emanate an aura of death.

"Watch out! Everyone, scatter! Gain altitude!"

Seeing the Quaffle soaring high into the air, Marcus Flint's pupils contracted violently as he shouted to those around him, quickly pulling up his broom and weaving erratically through the sky.

Just a few minutes ago, Chaser Derrian Pucey thought this was an excellent opportunity to intercept the ball, so he boldly dived towards Aileen, resulting in… well, he used his body to provide a perfect example of what not to do.

Boom!

The crimson Quaffle cut through the sky like a fireball, hurtling straight ahead.

Compared to her time as a Seeker, when she roamed the entire field, Aileen's shot trajectory, restricted to the area around the three goal hoops, was severely limited. Coupled with the fact that the Quaffle didn't possess the small-scale autonomous navigation and acceleration magic of Bludgers, its lethality and destructive power were reduced by more than one level.

Unless another fool dared to fly directly into her path, it wouldn't be easy to knock down these agile Quidditch players. After all, the opposing Slytherin team was a solid two-time champion.

Without her intervention, according to the original storyline, they would even continue to win this year's Quidditch championship.

However, as the game progressed, the entire Slytherin team no longer harbored any expectations for the Quidditch Cup. Aileen, like a steel plate studded with nails, stood firmly in front of the Gryffindor team's goal hoops, forcing every Slytherin attack to be launched with the awareness that they might be knocked down at any moment.

Although under the care of Professor Dumbledore and the healing of Professor Apocalyps, even a fall from a great height wouldn't be life-threatening, it was unrealistic to expect to return to the game within minutes.

Based on past experience, it usually wasn't until the end of the game that those wizards knocked out of the sky by Aileen would reappear unharmed in the players' lounge, sharing the sadness of defeat with everyone—of course, healing runes could only soothe physical wounds; the psychological shadow of being shot down usually took days or even weeks to recover from.

Nevertheless, even in this hopeless situation, the Slytherin team displayed admirable resilience.

Knowing that they had almost no chance of defending the Quidditch House Cup, Marcus Flint still led the remaining four players swiftly back and forth across the field, desperately defending against Draco Malfoy and the others while seizing any opportunity to launch an attack on Aileen's guarded goal, taking advantage of their numerical superiority.

Although the Seeker was needed to end the game, as Chasers and Beaters, facing a completely shutout, game-experience-less match, even if they won by scoring points from the Golden Snitch, it wouldn't be much different from a crushing defeat.

Even scoring just one goal would make the current Slytherin team feel a little better.

Unfortunately, facing the Slytherin team's four-player pincer attack, Aileen still effortlessly guarded her team's three goal hoops. The gap between ordinary middle school-level players and a Veela with innate affinity for flying was simply too great.

"Oh dear, so scary~"
Boom!
"Oh, that's so mean~"
Boom!
"So close, so close~"
Boom!
……
"Enough! This isn't Quidditch, this is ridiculous!"
After narrowly dodging another deadly Quaffle blasted out by "Magical Girl Aileen," Captain Marcus Flint spat on the ground in hatred, proactively pulling his broom away from the Gryffindor team's half.

With Flint's retreat to the halfway line during the attack phase, it also signaled that the Slytherin team had completely given up on scoring. Continuing to attack at any cost would only lead to two results: either defensive loopholes would allow Draco Malfoy and the others to continuously score and widen the gap, or they would be hit directly off their brooms by the "Death Quaffle" due to a lack of timely dodging.

"Defense! Defense! Stretch the space and block their goals!"

Marcus Flint quickly turned his broom around and returned to his own half, working with the two Beaters to intercept the Quaffle from Ron Weasley and began passing it back and forth with the remaining Chaser to stretch the space.

"Stop waiting for points, go catch the Golden Snitch!"

At the same time, Flint looked up and shouted loudly at Seeker Terence Higgs, who was circling above.

"Higgs! End this terrible match, even if we can't win the Quidditch Cup in the end, at least let these first-year students taste defeat—we'll cover for you!"

Every one of Aileen's long-range throws created an excellent offensive opportunity for the Gryffindor representative team.

Under the enhancement of the "Bewitching Frenzy" state, the combat power displayed by Draco, Ron, and others was no less than that of other official Quidditch House teams. Goalkeeper Bletchley couldn't handle it alone.

The only hope for the Slytherin team rested on catching the Golden Snitch.

With Flint's command, Terence Higgs, who had been participating in the offensive formation compression and defensive tactics, nodded solemnly, quickly gaining altitude and circling in the sky, squinting his eyes to carefully search the vast field for the fleeting glimmer of gold from the Golden Snitch.

Just then, a small silver figure suddenly appeared in front of Terence Higgs, blocking more than half of his field of vision, and was circling and harassing him, preventing him from concentrating on finding the Golden Snitch.

"Get out of here! Brat!"

Higgs waved his arm forcefully, trying to drive away the annoying figure circling beside his broom.

Harry Potter, the Seeker for the Gryffindor team.

But no matter how he maneuvered his broom in the sky, turning left and right, he couldn't shake off Harry, who was flying close beside him. Flying at high speed side-by-side was extremely dangerous. A collision between the two brooms could easily lead to a mutually assured destruction scenario, forcing Terence Higgs to refocus his attention on how to get rid of Harry.

The intense confrontation on the field below continued unabated, with few people noticing the entanglement in the sky.

Naturally, Lee Jordan was still commentating non-stop.

"Slytherin regains possession—Flint seems to have given up on attacking—he's bypassing Hannah Abbott, attempting to transfer the Quaffle again—beautiful, Goyle and Crabbe's combined hitting has created a powerful Bludger attack—it reminds me of George and Fred—I have to say, the Gryffindor Weasley brothers have personally trained a pair of formidable rivals—but no matter what, as long as we can beat Slytherin badly, that's a good thing… Sorry, Professor, just trying to liven up the atmosphere—now Draco Malfoy has the ball again—standard fake-out pass in front of the goal—Ron Weasley appears in an open position—he scores—now it's one hundred and twenty to zero! Unbelievable!"

A series of cheers rang out again throughout the Quidditch pitch. Although there wasn't the evenly matched back-and-forth attack that people had been expecting, the feeling of being able to enjoy Slytherin being crushed on the ground was enough to make most students excited.

In fact, with the brilliant performances of Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe, a division had already emerged within the Slytherin House. Some Slytherin wizards were beginning to wave the Hogwarts banner, standing on the edge of the pitch to cheer for their House's three stars.

In the Gryffindor stands, Hagrid frowned, his expression not so cheerful.

"I really don't understand what Harry's doing? Why isn't he looking for the Golden Snitch yet?!"

The tall Hogwarts groundskeeper lowered his binoculars, muttering unhappily.

"If I hadn't seen his previous matches, I would have almost thought he hadn't inherited James' flying talent. It's been almost half an hour, and as a Seeker, he hasn't made a sound on the field…"

"Deadlock, I guess Aileen and the others want to play a 'Deadlock' as their final farewell match."

Hermione looked up at the scoreboard next to the field, saying uncertainly.

"You mean zero points with double the difference?!"

Hagrid was slightly taken aback, his voice filled with anticipation and excitement, his eyes quickly lighting up.

"That's right! As long as Harry can hold the Slytherin Seeker down, given the current situation, the score will only gradually increase—winning the game is only temporary glory, but completing a 'Zeroing Deadlock' in the final would nail Slytherin to the pillar of shame forever. Awesome!"

Unbeknownst to them, the point difference on the scoreboard next to the Quidditch pitch had widened to a huge gap of one hundred and ten to zero, just forty points away from forming the worst Quidditch "Deadlock" score.

According to standard Quidditch rules, if the scores are tied in a game, the team with more goals wins. If the final score exceeds three hundred points, it's called a double kill...

Most teams usually choose to concede first to avoid being double killed.

However, judging from the current situation, the Slytherin team, as a two-time former champion, was almost impossible to choose to surrender proactively, which meant that once the score exceeded one hundred and fifty points, Harry would be the most terrifying executioner.

As Harry Potter continued to harass Higgs, the Slytherin team and all the spectators gradually realized this, and discussions about "Deadlock" slowly spread throughout the stands, and everyone began to get excited.

Compared to Aileen, who chose to directly destroy the opponent's body with absolute violence, the other players on this Quidditch first-year team were clearly not harmless pushovers either. This wasn't just minced shrimp, it was minced shrimp with pig heart!

Gradually, the increasingly irritable Slytherin team turned the following match into an incredibly dirty and desperate counterattack. Watching the score slowly widen by Draco Malfoy and the others, the Slytherin players, like trapped beasts, began all kinds of unscrupulous counterattacks, desperately preventing the first-year students' attacks.

Beater Boll directly swung his bat and hit Ron hard on the back of the head from behind. Ron's nose hit the broom handle, and blood soon flowed out, and the Quaffle in his hand was naturally intercepted by Flint, who was circling nearby.

Immediately afterwards, another Beater, Derrick, elbowed Draco in the face, knocking the boy around in the air a few times. He managed to control his broom, preventing it from falling, but a clear bruise appeared on his originally pale and thin face, and his rapidly swelling cheeks were severely affecting Malfoy's vision.

Although Madam Hooch penalized the Gryffindor Quidditch team with a penalty shot, the injuries and physical exertion prevented Ron and Draco from fully seizing the opportunity, only hitting one goal and barely widening the score to one hundred and forty points.

On the other side, Goyle and Crabbe were also given special attention. The two were pushed by Flint and another Chaser and crashed into the stands around the pitch. The two little fatties rolled several times in the air, clutching their stomachs in pain, panting heavily. During the pushing, they also received a few black punches.

Obviously, as the hope of victory became increasingly slim, the Slytherin team gradually entered a final frenzy.

Witnessing all these vile acts, Madam Hooch and the spectators below let out a series of angry roars.

"Foul! Foul! Extremely serious foul!"

Madam Hooch screamed at Flint, "Penalty to the Hogwarts Gryffindor team!"

However, as the match time passed, the stamina of Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, and others, who had originally been in a state of excitement, had long been exhausted, and repeated personal attacks had further weakened their combat power.

"…I'll do it."

Hannah Abbott, who had been protected in the center by the boys, was silent for a few seconds before taking the Quaffle from Malfoy, who had swollen eyes, and flew slowly in front of the Slytherin team's goal, looking calmly at the boy directly in front of her.

"Sorry, I promised Aileen that I wouldn't use this move until I had fully mastered it…"

"But…"

Hannah looked around at the little wizards around her, her eyes gliding over Ron, who was bleeding, Draco, who had swollen eyes, and Crabbe and Goyle, who were clutching their stomachs and panting heavily. A coldness familiar to the Slytherin team members emerged in her eyes, and she took a deep breath, gripping the Quaffle tightly and letting out a series of low roars.

"rua, rua, rua, rua, rua, rua, rua, rua…"

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Mommy!
Double chapter! There's only one chapter today!
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