The sky above Hogwarts stretched wide and brilliantly blue, streaked with long ribbons of silver cloud that drifted lazily across the autumn air. Wind swept sharply through the Quidditch pitch, carrying the scent of damp grass, cold stone, and broom polish while banners from every house snapped loudly in the breeze. The stadium thundered with excitement long before the match officially began. Green and silver banners shimmered proudly across the Slytherin stands while Ravenclaw’s blue and bronze colors glittered opposite them beneath enchanted sunlight. Students leaned dangerously over the rails shouting predictions and chants at one another while professors settled themselves along the staff platform overlooking the pitch. The roar of conversation rose and fell like ocean waves, filling the entire stadium with restless anticipation. Today’s match carried unusual excitement because Slytherin had remained undefeated so far this season, largely due to the terrifyingly effective combination of Draco Malfoy as Chaser and Mira Silverthorne as Seeker. Rumors about Mira’s flying had spread through the school with increasing exaggeration after every game. Some claimed she flew like she could predict the wind itself. Others whispered that her maneuvers bordered on suicidal. Neither rumor was entirely incorrect. At the center of the pitch, Madam Hooch prepared the players while the crowd continued roaring overhead.
Mira stood beside her broom near the Slytherin goal hoops, dark silver robes snapping around her legs in the wind. Her braid shifted lightly against her back while cold air flushed color into her cheeks. Across from her, the Ravenclaw Seeker adjusted his gloves nervously while trying not to stare too openly at her. That alone almost made Mira feel guilty. Almost. Beside her, Draco rolled his shoulders once before spinning his broom casually through one hand with practiced ease.
“Try not to terrify the entire school again,” he drawled quietly enough that only she could hear. 37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcZSJOEZX7R
Mira glanced sideways at him with faint amusement flickering in her silver-blue eyes. “No promises.”
Draco huffed a laugh despite himself.
Nearby, Flint overheard enough of the exchange to snort loudly. “Just catch the Snitch before Ravenclaw realizes what hit them.”
The Slytherin captain looked deeply pleased with himself these days whenever discussing his team. Mira’s presence alone had transformed their strategy completely. Across the pitch, Ravenclaw players gathered together in visibly tense discussion while occasionally glancing toward Mira. They had clearly spent the entire week planning ways to counter her. The unfortunate reality was that very few people could predict what Mira would do once she spotted the Snitch. Sometimes Mira herself barely knew.
High above the stands, Myraleth sat quietly beside Professor Sprout among the staff section. Unlike most spectators, she did not cheer or wave banners. She simply watched. Wind stirred strands of silver-white hair around her face while sunlight glimmered softly across the runes woven into her pale robes. Around her, the atmosphere pulsed with excitement and nervous energy from hundreds of students. Yet Myraleth remained still as moonlight reflected on water. Remus Lupin, seated farther down beside McGonagall, noticed her watching the pitch with unusual focus. Not merely observing the game. Studying Mira.
Sprout leaned slightly toward the Vaelori with warm curiosity. “Have you ever watched Quidditch before?” she asked kindly.
Myraleth’s gaze never left the players circling below. “Once,” she answered softly. “Long ago.”
Something distant flickered behind her amethyst eyes then vanished again before Remus could understand it. 37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiuOdc4lng5
Down below, Mira mounted her broom. The moment her fingers wrapped around the polished handle, something subtle changed in her posture. She became lighter somehow. Sharper. Like a blade finally unsheathed.
Madam Hooch’s whistle pierced the air.
Fourteen brooms launched skyward instantly.
The crowd erupted.
The match exploded into motion beneath roaring cheers as players streaked across the pitch like arrows released from bows. Ravenclaw immediately attempted aggressive offensive formations, their Chasers weaving intricate passing patterns designed to overwhelm Draco and the Slytherin defense. Wind howled past Mira’s ears as she climbed higher above the chaos, eyes scanning every inch of the pitch with frightening focus. Below her, bludgers cracked through the air like cannon fire while students screamed encouragement from every side of the stadium. Draco intercepted a Ravenclaw pass with sharp precision before twisting sideways and launching the Quaffle toward the opposite goal hoops. The Slytherin section exploded with cheers as the ball soared cleanly past the Ravenclaw Keeper. Yet Mira barely heard any of it. The world always narrowed strangely during Quidditch. Noise became distant. Time stretched thinner. She could feel the broom beneath her responding almost instinctively to her movements while cold air cut against her skin. Somewhere across the pitch, something gold flashed briefly near the Ravenclaw stands. Mira’s eyes sharpened instantly.
The Snitch.
She dove without hesitation.
Gasps erupted across the stadium as Mira’s broom angled downward at a near-vertical drop. Wind screamed around her violently while the pitch rushed upward with terrifying speed. The Ravenclaw Seeker spotted the Snitch moments later and immediately pursued, but Mira already held the better angle. She leaned lower over the broom handle, silver braid whipping behind her like a banner while students shouted from the stands.
“She’s diving too fast!” someone screamed near the Gryffindor section. Harry Potter gripped the edge of the stands tightly, eyes wide as he tracked Mira’s descent. Even he felt his stomach twist watching her fly like this. She wasn’t simply fast. She flew like gravity itself was optional. The Snitch darted suddenly beneath one of the spectator towers, forcing both Seekers into a dangerously narrow gap between stone support beams. The Ravenclaw Seeker pulled upward at the last second. Mira did not.
The crowd collectively inhaled in horror.
Mira twisted sharply beneath the tower beam with inches to spare before rolling entirely upside down beneath her broom. One leg hooked securely over the handle while the other locked against the shaft for balance. Wind tore through her robes violently as she hung suspended beneath the broom far above open air. The stadium erupted into absolute chaos. Students leapt to their feet screaming while several professors visibly half-rose from their seats. Remus swore under his breath. McGonagall looked moments away from cardiac arrest. Even Flint had gone pale. But Myraleth merely watched silently, amethyst eyes calm and unreadable. Mira’s heart hammered violently inside her chest while blood rushed toward her head from the inversion. The world spun sideways around her in dizzying blurs of sky and stadium. Yet her gaze remained locked onto one thing only. The Snitch. It darted beneath the tower support, assuming no Seeker would be insane enough to follow at that angle. Unfortunately for it, Mira Silverthorne was Alaric Silverthorne’s daughter.
And risk ran in her blood.
Using only her legs to hold herself steady, Mira released both hands completely from the broom.
The crowd screamed.
For one impossible second, she hung upside down in open air with nothing holding her except her legs wrapped around the broom handle while the ground spun hundreds of feet below her. Then she lunged downward with outstretched fingers. Cold metal struck her palm sharply. The Snitch fluttered frantically against her grip before finally going still. Mira immediately swung herself upright again with practiced athletic precision just as her broom stabilized violently beneath her. The stadium froze.
Then Madam Hooch’s whistle blasted across the pitch.
“Slytherin wins!”
The roar that followed felt powerful enough to shake the castle foundations themselves. Green and silver banners exploded upward while students screamed themselves hoarse throughout the Slytherin stands. Draco laughed outright in disbelief while circling high overhead. Flint looked like he might either faint or propose adopting Mira on the spot. Across the Ravenclaw section, even opposing students stared with unwilling amazement despite losing the match. Harry remained gripping the railing tightly, pulse still racing painfully from watching that maneuver.
“She flew upside down using her legs,” Ron said weakly beside him. “Using her bloody legs.”
Hermione looked equally horrified and impressed all at once. “That’s not even remotely safe,” she whispered. Yet her voice held reluctant admiration beneath the panic.
Mira landed smoothly upon the pitch moments later while the crowd continued roaring overhead. Her breathing came slightly faster now from adrenaline while cold wind cooled the sweat along the back of her neck. The Snitch rested safely in her hand, golden wings twitching weakly between her fingers. Slytherin players immediately surrounded her with victorious shouting while Flint grabbed both sides of his head dramatically.
“Your father is going to kill me,” he groaned loudly. “Absolutely murder me.”
Mira laughed breathlessly despite herself while Draco landed beside her with wide grey blue eyes still burning from adrenaline.
“You are completely insane,” he informed her flatly.
Mira tilted her head slightly. “But it worked.”
Draco opened his mouth to argue before immediately giving up because unfortunately she was correct. Around them, students throughout the stands continued buzzing with stunned excitement. Stories about this match would spread across Hogwarts before sunset. Probably across Britain by tomorrow morning.
Up in the staff stands, Myraleth finally smiled.
Not a grand smile.
Not dramatic.
Just quiet pride glowing softly in ancient amethyst eyes while the wind carried the roar of the crowd around her like distant thunder.
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