The Quidditch Pitch.
The sky was low and oppressive, threatening to collapse at any moment. A fine, misty rain was falling—a Seeker's absolute nightmare. In this light, the Golden Snitch was practically invisible.
Slytherin vs. Gryffindor.
This wasn't just a battle for the Quidditch Cup; it was the first direct confrontation between Ivan Potter and Harry Potter.
Slytherin Bench.
Draco Malfoy was straddling his Nimbus 2001, preening like a peacock fanning its tail.
"Potter, you might be a Prefect, but Seekers rely on talent!" Draco lifted his chin arrogantly. "My father bought me the latest broom. I could catch the Snitch in a hurricane! What about you? You don't even have a broom, do you?"
Ivan sat on the bench, methodically polishing his ebony wand with a velvet cloth.
Hearing Draco, he didn't even look up. "Brooms? Primitive transport. Fit only for trolls."
"What did you say?!" Draco's eyes went wide. "How are you going to fly without a broom? Are you going to ride your wand?"
"Bingo."
Ivan stood up, tucked his wand into the back of his belt, and under the horrified gazes of everyone present, walked straight to the edge of the pitch.
At that moment, Madam Hooch blew her whistle.
"Seekers, take your positions!"
Harry Potter shot into the sky on his Nimbus 2000. He wobbled slightly in the wind but held a decent form. He glanced at the Slytherin half, wondering what his legendary brother had up his sleeve.
Then, he froze.
The Slytherin air space was empty.
"Where's Ivan?" Harry blinked. "Did he forfeit?"
Just then, a sharp crack echoed through the sky.
Snap!
Ivan Potter was not riding a broom.
He was hovering thirty feet in the air, standing on his ebony wand!
No, he wasn't just standing.
A layer of cyan airflow surrounded him—highly compressed wind elements. He looked like he was surfing on an invisible greatsword, suspended in the rain. His black robes snapped violently in the gale, making him look like a demon god descending from the heavens.
"Is that... a Hover Charm?" Madam Hooch dropped her whistle. "Impossible! Hover Charms only levitate; they don't allow for high-speed movement! And he's standing on a wand?!"
"Cheating! He's cheating!" Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Captain, screamed from below. "Professor Snape! Slytherin is cheating!"
Snape sat in the shadows of the stands, gripping his omnioculars tightly.
Seeing this, he didn't get angry. Instead, a fanatical smile, like one seeing a priceless treasure, spread across his face.
"Silence, Wood," Snape's voice was amplified by magic to cover the stadium. "That is 'Object-Assisted Flight.' Although it violates Clause 12 of the Quidditch Rulebook... I am the referee. And I say this is simply 'Slytherin Innovation'."
The crowd went into an uproar.
The double standard was off the charts!
But Ivan ignored the noise below.
He closed his eyes, letting the rain wash over his face.
[System: Flight Talent (Master Level) Activated. Wind Element Affinity: 100%.]
In his perception, the airflow of the entire stadium became an extension of his senses.
Even the breeze caused by a fly flapping its wings couldn't escape his notice.
"Found it."
Ivan snapped his eyes open. His pupils had turned into vertical snake slits.
He didn't dive like Harry, nor did he accelerate like Draco.
He simply took a gentle step forward.
Spatial Compression (Wind Variant).
Whoosh!
His figure vanished instantly, reappearing right next to the goal post at the other end of the pitch!
There, a tiny golden ball was shivering in the rain—the Golden Snitch. It had been frozen in place, terrified by the aura of the Primordial Dragon radiating from Ivan!
Harry had just flown past the midfield line when he saw Ivan teleport to the finish line.
"Is... is that Apparition?!" Harry nearly fell off his broom.
Ivan reached out.
The Snitch didn't dodge nimbly as usual. It sat there, seemingly petrified, and let Ivan grab it.
Ivan held the Snitch, frowning with distaste. "Too noisy."
The Snitch was vibrating madly in his hand, emitting a piercing buzzing sound.
Ivan, impatient, squeezed his fingers slightly.
Crunch.
A crisp sound.
Under the gaze of thousands, Ivan Potter crushed the Golden Snitch—a magical object hard enough to crack stone—with his bare hand.
Golden powder trickled through his fingers, mixing with the falling rain.
Dead silence.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
Madam Hooch's jaw dropped. The stopwatch in her hand read "3 seconds."
Wood fell to his knees, clutching his head. "It's over... it's all over... how do we compete with that?"
Draco was left messy in the wind, his Nimbus 2001 suddenly feeling like a piece of firewood.
Ivan shook the gold dust off his hand, stepped on his wand, and slowly descended, stopping in front of a dumbstruck Harry.
"Speed too slow. Texture too hard. Zero stars," Ivan reviewed. He looked down at Snape. "Professor, can I come down now? The rain is ruining my hair."
Snape took a deep breath and stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair.
He looked at Ivan as if looking at a Greek statue that had just been unearthed.
"Slytherin... Wins!" Snape's voice cracked with excitement. "And... 100 points to Slytherin! For Mr. Potter's demonstration of 'Innovative Flight' and advanced 'Physical Pest Control' techniques!"
[System Alert: Crowd Shocked! Terror Value +500! Worship Value +200!]
[Draco Malfoy (Faith Collapsed): Emotion Value +150!]
[Harry Potter (Bro, are you even human?): Emotion Value +50!]
[Oliver Wood (Despair): Emotion Value +50!]
Ivan landed and sheathed his wand.
The surrounding Slytherins parted like the Red Sea, making way for him like he was a plague god. Every pair of eyes was filled with awe.
Just then, the System chimed:
[Ding! Detected Host performed "Inhuman" acts in public. Hidden Achievement Unlocked: "God of Quidditch (Fake)"]
[Reward: Nimbus 2001 · Modified (Autopilot, Deflector Shields, Stealth Mode)]
[Special Note: Since Host crushed the Snitch, the manufacturer "Randolin & Co." has blacklisted you for life and vowed revenge.]
Ivan raised an eyebrow.
"Blacklist? Good. I thought their product quality was trash anyway."
He walked up to Harry.
Harry was still dazed.
"Harry." Ivan patted his brother's shoulder (making Harry jump).
"Ivan..." Harry swallowed hard. "Was that... teleportation?"
"That was Spatial Compression," Ivan said calmly. He pulled something from his pocket and tossed it to Harry. "A greeting gift."
Harry caught it clumsily.
It was a brand new, unopened Golden Snitch.
Ivan had just pulled it from his System Inventory.
"This one is more obedient. It doesn't buzz." Leaving the entire pitch floored with that line, Ivan turned toward the changing rooms. "Also, next time, don't ride that raggedy broom. It's embarrassing. Want to learn Wand-Surfing? Beg me, and I might consider taking you as a probationary disciple."
Watching Ivan's retreating back, Harry clutched the Snitch, a feeling surging in his chest that he had never felt before.
It wasn't fear. It was a boiling, blood-pumping aspiration.
High in the Stands.
Dumbledore held his omnioculars, not putting them down for a long time.
Beside him, Professor McGonagall looked worried. "Albus, that child... he turned Quidditch into a slaughterhouse. And his control over flight surpasses many adult Aurors. Is he really a first-year?"
Dumbledore lowered the binoculars, his blue eyes twinkling with complex light.
"No, Minerva," Dumbledore whispered, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "He isn't playing Quidditch. He is declaring to the entire Wizarding World—'The old rules do not apply to me'."
"Furthermore," Dumbledore looked toward Snape, who was currently grabbing a Slytherin student and frantically explaining Ivan's "Wand-Riding Theory," "it seems Severus has been completely captivated by that little monster. For us... this might be a good thing."
"A good thing?" McGonagall was confused.
"Because only a madman can defeat a madman," Dumbledore said softly. "Voldemort is returning. And we need a 'monster'... one even crazier than him... to guard Hogwarts."
---
Ivan didn't know what the Headmaster was thinking.
As soon as he entered the common room, Draco slid over with a sycophantic expression.
"Prefect Ivan! No, Boss Ivan!" Draco's face was written with longing. "That... Wand-Surfing... can you teach me? I'll give you all my father's racing brooms!"
Ivan looked at Draco like he was looking at a mental patient.
"You're too heavy; the wind won't hold you," Ivan rejected flatly. He pointed to a pile of cauldrons in the corner. "Want to learn? Go scrub those cauldrons clean. When they're shiny enough to reflect your foolish face, I'll consider teaching you the first form."
Without a word, Draco rushed at the cauldrons like a house-elf. "I'll scrub! I'll scrub them now! I'll lick them clean if I have to!"
Ivan sat on the sofa, watching the rain outside.
"System, is the Emotion Value enough to redeem that item?"
[System Alert: Current Total: 7200 Points. Sufficient to redeem "Chamber of Secrets Key (Permanent)" and "Basilisk Summoning Rights (Temporary)".]
Ivan tapped his fingers on the armrest.
"Good."
"Halloween is over. Quidditch is won."
"Next, it's time to retrieve the Diary's 'Main Body'."
He looked up at the portrait of Salazar Slytherin on the wall.
It felt like a pair of eyes were watching him from within the painting.
"Salazar Slytherin..." Ivan whispered. "What exactly did you hide in your Chamber? I hope you don't disappoint me."