Throughout the stadium, apart from the roar of the crowd, only commentator Lee Jordan's magically amplified voice could be heard.
The voice was loud but not harsh, reaching the ears of every spectator clearly.
Basil suspected that Lee Jordan's Sonorus charm, through years of use, had reached the level of Level 2 or even Level 3.
It had the characteristic of making the voice softer while expanding the range.
"Now the Quaffle is with Slytherin—ah, no—Flint of Slytherin takes the Quaffle and charges the goal! Beautiful—Oliver Wood blocks it! Oh no, Derrick is nearby, will the Quaffle return to Slytherin's hands?"
"Brilliant! A beautiful Bludger from George Weasley! Right on target! Angelina Johnson has it!"
"The Quaffle is in Gryffindor's hands."
"A beautiful turn, bypassing Derrick, diving—the Quaffle is gone! She confused that big lump Miles!"
"During the dive just now, the ball was quietly passed to Katie Bell!"
"Wow! The Quaffle is in!—She scores! Ten to zero, Gryffindor leads!"
Most students followed Lee Jordan's commentary to watch the game.
But Basil was different.
The Quidditch pitch was also part of his body.
He narrowed his eyes slightly; everything on the pitch was captured in his 360-degree vision.
The Golden Snitch, flying so fast it was invisible as it darted through the golden sunlight; the scenery under Angelina's skirt; Hagrid sneaking out an umbrella trying to change the "Go Draco" clouds; an unknown Hufflepuff student transformed into Sirius Black to satisfy his girlfriend...
"Interest is indeed the best teacher. Even a troublesome potion like Polyjuice Potion can be brewed."
"No wonder a lock of Sirius's hair is missing. But how did he not notice?" Basil smiled mischievously.
Compared to watching the game, he preferred watching these things.
However, on the pitch, there were two others with insight like Basil's—regarding the Golden Snitch.
They were Harry and Draco.
They hovered high in the sky, higher than anyone else.
Eyes narrowed, following the golden light, turning slightly like owls spotting a mouse.
At the same time, they kept a close eye on each other with their peripheral vision.
If facing a mediocre opponent...
They could have flown directly towards the Golden Snitch, dodging Bludgers and other players with superb reflexes.
But they knew each other's level clearly.
Every slight turn of the opponent's broom handle perfectly blocked the "path" to the Golden Snitch.
The situation was actually deadlocked.
Buzzing sounds erupted from the stands. They thought this time would be as exciting as Harry and Draco's first duel on the pitch. But their current performance made the audience extremely dissatisfied.
"Did they get hit with a Confundus Charm before going on?"
"Get down! This isn't the place for you to date!"
"Malfoy, don't think you can slack off just because your dad died!"
"Potter, don't sympathize with him! The Malfoys are all bad seeds!"
Basil felt some comments were crossing the line.
He frowned.
"Is my son someone you can talk about? Even if he's a stepson, what level are you?"
There were many others as unhappy as Basil.
Some were "know-it-alls," loudly shouting technical terms, claiming those people's levels were too low to understand; others claimed it was unethical to mention someone's deceased family member; but most simply stood by the two.
Among these people, Harry's entourage made up the largest proportion.
Ron rolled up his sleeves; Neville bent down and pulled out a sword-like wooden stick with a natural grip from under his feet; Seamus raised his wand, ready to create an explosion at any moment; Sirius muttered curses under his breath; Hagrid stood up and picked up an older Gryffindor student who was slandering Harry in front of him like lifting a chick...
Just as a fight was about to break out in the stands, the two who had been hovering finally moved.
Their flight directions were completely opposite.
One down, one up.
Remember, there was only one Golden Snitch.
Everyone was a bit confused.
Lee Jordan also expressed confusion: "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy finally moved! But these directions... they don't make sense?"
But Basil, seeing the whole picture, saw clearly.
The Golden Snitch wasn't a stationary object.
It flew around the pitch in an extremely complex pattern.
Both noticed the pattern and captured the stopping point of the Golden Snitch closest to them.
So, although one went down and one went up...
As the Golden Snitch moved and they adjusted their flight paths, both ended up flying towards the Gryffindor goalposts.
Wood, the Keeper, noticed this.
He unhesitatingly abandoned the Quaffle about to be shot at him and blocked Draco's flight path coming from below.
"Bole! Give Wood a Bludger!" Marcus Flint, Slytherin's Captain and Chaser, ordered their Beater.
He also noticed the key point.
While giving the order, he himself flew towards Harry, who was flying from above towards the edge of the goalpost.
Wanting to replicate Wood's move.
But the one who just shot was another Slytherin Chaser, Pucey. He didn't notice the key point.
Scoring successfully made him very happy.
He waved his fist smugly, flying near the goalpost.
His large build now became a disadvantage, blocking Flint's line of sight.
Even though Flint shouted: "Move, idiot!"
It was too late.
Harry, who didn't detour, caught the Golden Snitch.
Wood, who took the Bludger hit head-on and broke an arm without moving an inch, successfully intercepted Draco.
Making him a step too late.
Lee Jordan stood up, "240 to 60! Gryffindor wins!"
"What a pity! Draco Malfoy was just a step too late!"
"Wood showed the responsibility and judgment of a captain! Rather let Slytherin score and lose points, take a Bludger hit, all to create conditions for Harry's victory!"
"Here we must thank Slytherin Chaser Pucey! He helped Gryffindor win!"
Lee Jordan's words were simply twisting the knife.
Pucey, who was grinning foolishly just now, instantly had a gloomy face.
Flint flew past him to Draco and comforted him: "It's not your fault. You are no worse than Harry Potter. If I had succeeded just now, you would have gotten the Snitch."
Bole also flew over with his head down. "My Bludger was too weak. If it were harder, knocking Wood directly off his broom, we wouldn't have lost."
Other players gathered around too, but no one paid attention to Pucey.
The surging red tide in the stands, the cheers, and Lee Jordan's words just now made it impossible for them not to blame him.
As for Gryffindor, including Harry...
They landed on the ground and walked up to Wood one by one.
Shouting to the students running down the stands, through the barriers, to welcome them: "Make way! Excuse us!"
"Wood needs to go to the hospital wing!"
The scarlet crowd orderly parted to create a six-foot-wide path.
They all looked at Wood with heroic gazes.
Since Charlie Weasley graduated, the Gryffindor team hadn't won the Quidditch Cup.
And today, Dumbledore held it and presented it to Harry.