As expected, Potter and the Firebolt were strong.
(I lost…)
A long sigh slips out of me.
(I really did hang on until the very end. Probably the first time I ever stubbornly fought through a losing battle…)
I fought with the intention of tripping Potter up the moment he made even the slightest mistake. If he let his guard down even a little, I stayed on my broom, determined to chase him to the very end.
Even so, Potter moved flawlessly and caught the Snitch without a single hesitation or error.
(But I still saw it through to the end.)
Feeling refreshed despite losing is probably nothing more than a loser's bravado in the end. It is frustrating, embarrassing, and full of regrets.
Still, right now, I will not let anyone but myself deny what I did. Even if someone points a finger at me from behind, I could smile and reply, "So what?"
There is no guilt in that at all. I gave it everything and lost, so I can face it head-on without excuses. It really is that simple.
Because right up until the moment Potter grabbed the Snitch, I was equal to him, if not better.
I lost only in that final instant. I take pride in knowing that I was not inferior at any other moment.
I do not think that the sole purpose of a Seeker's existence is the instant they catch the Snitch. Pulling off a good play, successfully executing a new technique… those are surely small "victories" too.
(…Come to think of it.)
A memory suddenly surfaces. It was from last year, before I entered Hogwarts.
"Let me ask you one question. What do you think the Hogwarts Express exists for?"
Just before parting with my parents at King's Cross Station, Father suddenly asked me that.
"Well… isn't it to get us to Hogwarts?"
"No. If that were all, a Portkey would be faster."
Now that he mentioned it, he was absolutely right. As I stood there blankly, trying to think, Father handed me several Galleons and said,
"Travel is certainly one of its purposes, but that is not all. Eating sweets from the trolley, chatting about silly things with friends, gazing at the scenery outside the window… You board the train precisely so you can enjoy the journey to Hogwarts while making your way to your destination."
At the time, it did not really sink in, but now I understand what Father was trying to tell me.
Elaina's flashy performance when she scored those ten points was probably the same idea. Winning is important, of course, but the process belongs to those who enjoy it the most.
That said, moments that are nothing but fun will never conveniently last forever. One day, the smiles will fade, and there will be times when no matter how hard you grit your teeth and try, no matter how much you endure through tears, nothing works.
If there comes a time when you have no room to spare and cannot enjoy things anymore, then that is fine too.
But "that time" is not eternal.
To be honest, today I will probably sulk a bit afterward, still frustrated about losing to Potter.
Even so, by the time next year's matches roll around, I am sure I will have recovered enough to throw out ten sarcastic remarks or so and brag loudly in front of Pansy and Blaise.
Maybe even Elaina, who looks like a genius, actually runs away when something unpleasant happens. Then, once she has recovered a little, she might nervously go back and forth thinking, "Maybe next time will be okay."
If you keep going like that, little by little, but steadily continuing to walk forward,
then someday, surely, your hands will reach what you desire.
That is probably how the world looks to her.
I hope that feeling reaches her, even just a little.
It does not matter if you are slow or different from others.
You just have to start walking forward, one step at a time, at your own pace.
Because at the end of that path, what you have been seeking is surely waiting.
◇◆◇
After the match ended in a Gryffindor victory, my sister muttered softly beside me. I am Astoria Greengrass.
"…In the end, we lost."
"Yes. But at the very least, one girl's heart was moved."
When I replied that way, my sister broke into a crooked smile.
"I think it was more than just one. Mine too."
That was no flattery.
"It was beautiful."
Strength is justice. Beauty is justice. And strength honed to its absolute limit becomes refined beauty. Perhaps that is why we fell for that sight.
People were shouting noisily, clicking their tongues in frustration, making all kinds of commotion. That is how captivating the final fifteen minutes of play were for everyone.
Faced with the ferocious onslaught of a Slytherin team fighting in earnest, the Gryffindor players responded with everything they had. In the end, Gryffindor held their ground, but the momentum of the Slytherin team was truly overwhelming.
I did not want it to end.
When Potter caught the Snitch, that thought suddenly crossed my mind.
I wanted to keep watching.
It was that beautiful a match. Though it was a serious contest, it felt as if they were dancing gracefully, and the players performing that brilliant dance looked like they were truly enjoying themselves.
Above all, there was someone who tried to show me such a scene.
For my sake.
That fact alone is already more than enough.
I can say it with confidence.
Right now, I am surely the happiest girl in the world.
* * *
And on the opposite side of the stadium, the Gryffindor team was surrounded by a crimson wave of supporters who had poured onto the pitch.
They linked arms, embraced one another, tangled together, and celebrated their victory until their voices were hoarse. Captain Oliver Wood was so tearful he could barely see, and even Professor McGonagall was dabbing her eyes with a house banner.
What came as a surprise was that Oliver Wood, his eyes swollen from crying, walked over toward the Slytherin team.
The crowd held its breath, and tension rippled across the stadium. Wood pushed through the throng and stopped in front of Marcus Flint, who was sprawled flat on the ground.
Wood silently held out his hand. Flint let out a snort of laughter.
"…Taking a bloke's hand does nothing for me. Bring a pretty girl next time and try again, Wood."
"Unfortunately, I cannot let her fall into your poisonous clutches."
"Dead serious, huh."
With that, Flint stood up and spoke.
"It was a good match."
Wood started to reply with a simple "Yeah," then seemed to reconsider and chose different words.
"If I am being honest, I wanted one more match."
Hearing that, Flint smiled faintly.
"A match is only a match because it ends with a clear winner and loser."
That was surely a farewell.
The two of them were graduating this year. Laughing or crying, this was their final match. They were saying goodbye to their days at Hogwarts and to the endless routines of practice, then moving on to their separate paths in life.
So at least for this last moment, without Gryffindor or Slytherin, just as two sportsmen who loved Quidditch.
"Flint, honestly, with your skill, even as a pro—"
"Do not say it. That is far enough."
Flint cut off Wood's unfinished words.
"It might surprise you, but I am smarter than I look. I can tell the difference between dreams and reality."
"…I see."
Precisely because he had kept at it for so long, because he had honed his skills through constant effort, there are times when one understands their own limits of ability and resolve better than anyone else.
And Marcus Flint, forced to make a choice, had already made his decision.
In that case, there was no longer any place for an outsider to interfere.
"So… this really means your rough play ends here too, huh?"
"Yeah. Even though I still have plenty of curses I never got to use on you in those pre-match brawls."
At Flint's words, Wood grinned back at him.
He would never say thank you, not even in death. That was not the kind of relationship they had, and he still thought Flint was a bastard. Flint probably felt the same.
But still—
"I had fun, Flint."
"Take care of yourself, Wood."
With that, they clasped hands.
This was their final handshake as players.
They gripped each other's fingers with all their strength. To an outside observer, it probably looked like they were trying to crush each other's hands.
Their two broad backs somehow looked reluctant to part.
The sun that shone down on them glowed red and dazzling.
And the vast sky stretching overhead was a clear, endless blue.
(End of chapter)
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