A/N: I hope you find the story interesting. This chapter is all about Quidditch. Do review and leave suggestions.
CHAPTER 4: THE QUIDDITCH MATCH
The sky above the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch was a clear winter blue, crisp and cold, but the chill in the air did nothing to dampen the excitement buzzing through the stadium. Word had spread fast about the joint Durmstrang-Beauxbatons Quidditch trials, and by Monday afternoon, the stands were full—not just with students from the visiting schools, but with curious Hogwarts students eager to catch a glimpse of the action.
Aurora stood at the edge of the pitch, her gloved fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of her sleek silver firebolt. She wore her training robes—deep navy trimmed with pale blue—and her long dark hair was tied back in a high ponytail. Around her, nearly half of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons delegations had shown up, most of them already hovering in groups with brooms in hand. The rest sat on the benches, chatting, cheering, or watching silently.
Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff stood near the benches, overseeing the trials, while a small panel of professors from both schools took notes and watched from enchanted floating stands above the pitch. Viktor Krum stood near the front, already in the air, weaving tight loops to warm up his arms. His broom moved like lightning, smooth and responsive—Aurora's heart quickened just watching him fly.
Fleur Delacour, radiant even in her flying gear, stood a few feet away from Aurora, adjusting her gloves with graceful efficiency. Aurora noticed how several boys from all three schools couldn't help but glance her way—and how Fleur ignored it with the kind of ease that came from years of attention.
"Are you going for Chaser too?" Aurora asked, stepping up beside her.
Fleur nodded, a small confident smile on her lips. "Oui. I used to play for Beauxbatons before the tournament. You?"
Aurora said, eyes flicking up toward the sky. "Chaser. Always."
A whistle cut through the air. One of the Durmstrang instructors—a burly wizard with wind-burned skin and a voice like thunder—called out, "All Chaser hopefuls, up in the air! Ten minutes of free play to show us your passing, positioning, and goal shots!"
Aurora barely waited for the end of his sentence before pushing off the ground. The familiar rush of wind hit her face as she rose higher and higher, heart pounding with joy. The moment her feet left the ground, the rest of the world vanished. It was just the sky, the cold, and her broom—her domain.
The practice Quaffle was thrown into the air, and the game began.
Aurora caught it first, spinning midair to avoid a sudden interception from a Durmstrang boy. She ducked low and shot forward, weaving through two other players before tossing the Quaffle cleanly to Fleur, who caught it without even blinking and sent it flying into the left goal hoop.
Cheers erupted from the stands.
They kept flying. Fleur and Aurora fell into rhythm almost immediately. While others crashed into one another, hesitated on passes, or missed shots under pressure, the two of them moved like water—fluid, fast, fearless. Aurora's sharp reflexes and daring dives complemented Fleur's elegance and precision.
Viktor, watching from above, raised an eyebrow as he followed the plays. Every so often he'd dive for the Snitch, disappearing in a blur, then rise again like a hawk surveying the field.
The second trial round began shortly after—a mock game, mixing in beaters and a keeper. Viktor was officially placed as seeker, which surprised no one. His flying was second nature, the broom an extension of himself.
Aurora soared toward the left hoop, tossed the Quaffle toward Fleur, who feinted right and then scored again, spinning mid-air with a playful flick of her hair. After nearly an hour of rotations, passes, near collisions, and some truly impressive flying, the whistle blew again.
All players landed, many breathing heavily, flushed from the cold and the thrill.
Madame Maxime conferred briefly with Karkaroff and the panel of judges. A tense few moments passed before Madame Maxime turned to the players.
"For the joint team," she announced, voice magically amplified, "our Chasers will be Aurora Blackwood , Fleur Delacour"—a round of polite clapping—"and Emil Kovak."
Aurora felt her heart skip a beat. Blackwood was her alias at Beauxbatons, but hearing her name called in this context—for something she earned, not feared—was a different kind of magic.
A few Hogwarts students in the crowd clapped louder than others—Aurora spotted Cedric and even Harry among them.
"And as Seeker, no surprise"—Madame Maxime allowed herself a small smile—"Viktor Krum."
'For beaters, Ivana Petrovna and Théo Marchand and for keeper Lysandre Bellecôte.' She announced.
The Durmstrang students cheered loudly.
Aurora stepped back from the center of the field, chest rising and falling with excitement. For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel like a stranger, or a threat, or someone people avoided.
The next afternoon, just after lunch, the courtyard was filled with crisp November air, tinged with the scent of wet leaves and the hum of post-meal chatter. Aurora had just stepped out into the pale sunlight when a familiar voice called her name.
Fleur Delacour approached with her usual poised stride, her silver-blonde hair catching the light like silk. Behind her, the rest of their newly formed team—Victor Krum, Emil Kovak, Ivana Petrovna, Théo Marchand, and Lysandre Bellecôte—stood in a loose group, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and quiet calculation.
"We are going to ze stadium," Fleur said smoothly, her French accent as crisp as the wind. "'Ogwarts is holding zeir trials today. I thought… it might be wise to see what we're up against." She tilted her head slightly, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You want to come?"
Aurora glanced at the group, who all looked at her expectantly—even Krum nodded once, silent but approving.
She straightened her posture and gave a small, calm smile. "Yes, I'll come."
Together, the team walked toward the Quidditch stadium, their presence turning a few heads as students whispered and pointed. The alliance between Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had already caused a stir—now, they walked like a unit, exuding quiet strength.
The stands were already half full by the time they arrived. Hogwarts students had gathered in eager clusters, and professors lined the pitch with clipboards, preparing to observe.
The Beauxbatons-Durmstrang team claimed a high row of seats overlooking the stadium, their eyes scanning the field below.
Madam Hooch's whistle echoed through the grounds.
"Alright! Let's get started!" she called. "We'll begin with seekers!"
Aurora leaned forward, arms crossed on the railing.
Below, about three hopefuls stood nervously by their brooms. Among them was Harry Potter, his green eyes serious and lightning-shaped scar glinting faintly in the sunlight. Aurora's gaze narrowed slightly. The boy who had once almost been her brother… now her opponent.
Next to him stood a blonde boy—elegant, smirking, with a cocky air as he toyed with his broomstick—and a Ravenclaw girl with long, dark hair and sharp focus in her eyes. The crowd buzzed in excitement as they mounted their brooms.
With a sharp whistle, the trial began.
The enchanted snitch darted into the air, and the three soared after it.
Harry shot into the air with stunning speed, looping tightly before diving with an elegance only natural-born seekers possessed. He spotted the enchanted snitch used for testing and cut through the air like a thunderbolt, fingers grazing the golden wings before his broom swooped upward again in a spiral.
The blonde boy, though elegant, lacked the same edge—he tried too hard to be graceful and often overshot the snitch. The Ravenclaw girl was precise and fast, but she hesitated at critical moments.
Victor grunted beside her. "He flies like fire," he muttered, watching Harry.
"He's good," Emil muttered. "Too good for a fourth year."
"Undisciplined," Ivana said coolly. "But fast."
In the end, the judges called the decision quickly.
"Harry Potter—Seeker for the Hogwarts team."
Applause roared from the stands.
Aurora leaned back in her seat, unreadable. Fleur side-eyed her. "What are you thinking?"
"That he'll be trouble," Aurora murmured.
Next came the Chaser trials.
Aurora sat up straighter as she spotted a familiar figure among the candidates—the icy blue-eyed boy she'd spoken to. He stood calmly among the others, his broom gripped with quiet confidence. Beside him, Cedric Diggory, he had told them that he was a seeker? and a fierce-looking girl, Aurora didn't know her name yet—were already exchanging warm-up passes.
The trial began with a flurry of motion—Quaffles flying through the air, students darting around Bludgers and weaving between goalposts.
Aurora's eyes were locked on the blue-eyed boy.
He wasn't flashy, but his movements were efficient and deliberate. He passed quickly, flew with a fluid grace, and always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. Cedric, on the other hand, brought natural charisma and speed, working flawlessly with Angelina's aggressive plays. The three of them quickly rose above the rest.
Within fifteen minutes, it was clear who the top chasers were.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle.
"Cedric Diggory, Angelina Johnson, and Elias Lestrange — Chasers!"
'Lestrange?' she mumbled, 'Did she say Lestrange?'
'Yeah, Elias Lestrange.' Fleur muttered.
Aurora blinked at the name. Elias, she repeated in her mind. She knew the Lestranges, Britain's Darklord's biggest supporters. But they had a heir?
After that, the Beaters took the field.
There was no mistaking the energy that followed the two redheaded twins onto the pitch. Laughing as they mounted their brooms, they immediately launched Bludgers like it was second nature.
"Fred and George Weasley," Theo said with amusement. "I know them. Complete chaos."
"And yet strangely effective," Emil muttered.
They worked together in perfect sync—one sent a Bludger flying at a dummy, and the other redirected it midair with a powerful smack. The crowd was in stitches, but there was no denying their talent.
"Fred and George Weasley—Beaters!"
Finally came the Keeper trials.
Most of the candidates were nervous and easily overwhelmed. But then a quiet Ravenclaw boy—tall, lanky, and calm—took position. With swift, fluid moves, he blocked goal after goal, using strategy over brute force.
"Callum Rivers—Keeper!"
As the crowd applauded their new team, Aurora leaned back in the stands, arms folded.
"Impressive," Fleur said beside her.
Aurora nodded faintly.
As the crowd began to disperse after the final announcement, a few Hogwarts students leapt from their seats, cheering and whistling loudly. Fred and George, clearly pleased with their appointment, performed a synchronized loop in the air before swooping down and high-fiving each other with exaggerated flair.
Aurora watched them with mild amusement, her eyes eventually drifting back to Elias Lestrange. He hovered just above the field now, broom balanced beneath him effortlessly, eyes scanning the crowd. There was something unsettling in their color—like frozen glass, unreadable. She frowned, that familiar twinge of unease curling in her stomach.
"Lestrange," she repeated under her breath again, almost testing the weight of the name.
Aurora said nothing
Down on the field, Harry was laughing with Angelina and Cedric, their brooms slung casually over shoulders. Aurora studied the trio. There was genuine warmth in the way they celebrated—no pretense, no sharp edges. Harry caught her gaze briefly from across the pitch, and his smile faded for a second, his brows furrowing before he looked away.
She looked away too.
Behind them, Theo and Ivana were already dissecting the Hogwarts team's strengths and weaknesses. "They have speed, coordination, and decent power," Theo said, stroking his chin. "But their style is more... instinctive than disciplined."
"Krum will break their rhythm," Ivana said. "We only need to support him. And those twins—Weasley, yes?—they'll try to distract us with theatrics. Ignore it."
Aurora wasn't listening anymore. Her eyes were still fixed on the field.
The week that followed was filled with icy winds, early dusks, and the sound of laughter and Bludgers echoing across the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The Durmstrang-Beauxbatons team trained every day after classes, despite the biting cold, their bodies warm with movement and adrenaline.
Aurora soared through the sky, the Quaffle tucked under her arm. She spun sideways, passed to Emil, then dove under a speeding Bludger aimed straight at her head—Theo's aim was deadly. Fleur was already hovering near the left hoop, catching the pass with ease and scoring before Lysandre could react.
"That's six in a row," Emil called out, grinning despite his panting breath.
Above them, Viktor Krum hovered in sharp, predatory circles, watching the play unfold with narrowed eyes.
"We're improving," Fleur said, flipping her hair back and coasting toward Aurora.
"And getting bored," Emil added. "No offense, but we need a real challenge."
As if summoned, a voice called from below.
"Then why not play us?"
All heads turned.
At the edge of the pitch stood Cedric Diggory, broom in hand, a relaxed smile on his face. Behind him were Harry, Elias, Angelina, Fred, George, and Callum—all dressed in practice gear.
"We were wondering if you'd be up for a proper match," Cedric said. "Friendly, of course. Full rules. Snitch and everything."
Harry tossed the golden ball up in his hand, and it fluttered its wings with an eager buzz.
"Unless you're scared," Cedric added playfully.
Victor smirked and descended slightly. "We accept."
Moments later, Madam Hooch appeared—clearly having been informed of the impromptu challenge—and quickly set the rules.
"Thirty-minute match. Full play. First team to 150 or whoever catches the Snitch ends it. Let's keep it clean and friendly—well, as friendly as Quidditch gets."
Both teams assembled midair.
Aurora hovered beside Fleur, eyeing the opposing team. Harry hovered just above Cedric, focused but calm.
The whistle blew—and chaos erupted.
Aurora exploded forward, her broom slicing through the air. The Quaffle was loose, and she caught it cleanly, pivoting away from Elias, who tried to intercept her. She passed it to Emil, who shot straight toward the hoops—but Callum blocked it with a confident swipe.
Fred and George wasted no time unleashing Bludgers with gleeful violence. Ivana batted one away with a bone-rattling crack.
Above them, Harry and Viktor instantly vanished into opposite corners of the sky, eyes scanning for that flicker of gold.
The game was intense.
Elias flew like a shadow, barely making a sound as he darted between players. Aurora clashed with him midair, Quaffle gripped tightly as they circled one another like wolves—neither backing down. Cedric's charisma lit up the field, his passes crisp and constant, while Angelina played with relentless energy.
Aurora scored three goals back-to-back, trading sharp grins with Emil and Fleur. Meanwhile, Viktor and Harry played their own silent battle—soaring, dipping, diving, twisting—each chasing flashes of gold only they could see.
Halfway through the match, the score stood: 90–70, Durmstrang-Beauxbatons in the lead.
Then it happened.
A glint. The Snitch.
Harry and Viktor moved at the same instant—two blurs against the grey sky.
Aurora caught the movement in her periphery and twisted her broom around, watching as the two seekers shot upward, spiraling around one another in a breathtaking chase. Gasps rang out from the stands as they pushed their brooms to the limit, dodging Bludgers and players alike.
For a second, it looked like Viktor had it—but Harry rolled midair, dropped ten feet in a heart-stopping dive, and snatched the Snitch cleanly from the sky.
The whistle blew.
Gasps, cheers, and applause erupted from all directions.
Final score: 220–90. Hogwarts wins.
'He defeated Krum!' she thought, totally surprised.
Both teams landed, breathless but smiling.
Victor landed beside Harry, clapped him once on the shoulder, and said gruffly, "You got lucky."
Harry grinned. "Or maybe I'm just better."
Victor gave a low chuckle.
Cedric walked over to Aurora, brushing back windswept hair. "Not bad, Blackwood."
"You too, Diggory," Aurora said, tossing her broom over her shoulder. "But next time, I'm scoring ten."
"Next time," he agreed, offering a wink.
Even Fleur was laughing as she linked arms with Aurora and Emil. "Zat was actually fun."
"Not bad," Ivana agreed, rubbing a bruise from her shoulder. "For Gryffindors."
The teams walked back to the castle side by side, teasing and bantering like old friends.
Aurora stayed near the back, the Snitch's final glint still playing in her mind. She glanced sideways at Elias, who was silent, as usual.
"Good game," she said softly.
He looked at her, expression unreadable. "You fly well when you're having fun."
"I didn't say I was having fun."
He smirked faintly. "You didn't have to."
The Quiditch match;
The Hogwarts Quidditch pitch had never looked more alive.
Banners of blue, gold, silver, and red waved in the brisk December wind, floating high above stands packed with students, professors, and visitors from all over the wizarding world. Families had arrived from as far as Bulgaria and France to watch their children play in the much-anticipated match between Hogwarts and the joint Beauxbatons-Durmstrang team. Magic crackled in the air—not just from enchanted banners or floating confetti, but from the sheer anticipation buzzing through every seat.
The stadium buzzed with energy as students filled the stands, shouting and waving house banners. The final match of the tournament was about to begin: Durmstrang-Beauxbatons vs. Hogwarts United. Both teams had come far, and everyone knew this would be the most competitive game yet.
Madam Hooch's whistle pierced the air.
"Mount your brooms! Three… two… one—"
The Quaffle soared.
Aurora was off like a shot, flying low to the ground at first, then pulling up in a sharp curve that cut through the formation of Hogwarts Chasers. She snatched the Quaffle from between Angelina Johnson and Cedric Diggory, who both cursed under their breath.
"Blackwood intercepts!" Lee Jordan shouted from the commentator's stand. "She's fast—too fast. Someone check that broom."
Aurora dodged a Bludger sent by Fred Weasley, ducking just in time and flipping into a sharp roll to avoid George's follow-up. Her flying was clean, efficient, and focused—no wasted movement. She passed to Fleur, who arced left and lobbed the Quaffle to Emil, Emil feinted right, then twisted left and shot straight past Callum Rivers.
"GOAL! 10–0, Durmstrang-Beauxbatons!"
Cheers erupted from the mixed sections of the stands. In Ravenclaw corner, a girl jumped up, holding a homemade sign that read "Aurora #1", with blue and silver glitter sparkling around the edges.
"Go Aurora!" she screamed over the roaring crowd.
A few Slytherin girls nearby clapped sharply, looking smug.
"Called it," one of them muttered. "She's the best flier on the pitch."
Aurora was surprised at them, no one had ever did that for her in her school.
Back on the field, Aurora zipped past Cedric, stealing the Quaffle again mid-pass. Cedric spun to follow, clearly frustrated, but she was already diving.
"Blackwood's making a break!" Lee yelled. "She's got Diggory on her tail, and here comes Fred with a Bludger—"
Fred's Bludger shot wide, but Cedric was gaining fast. Aurora tucked in, broom angled forward as she skimmed just above the turf, then pulled up at the last second and threw the Quaffle behind her without looking. Emil caught it and scored again—clean, simple, ruthless.
Up in the stands, Lily and James Potter stood among a group of international guests and professors. James grinned, arms crossed.
"She's not even sweating," he said. "That's Quidditch. Smart passes, clean dodges, and she owns the pitch."
Lily, standing beside him, smiled softly, but her eyes never left her daughter. "She's reading the game before they even move," she said. "Like she already knows what they're going to do."
The game pressed on—fast and aggressive. Harry and Viktor Krum were circling high above, both Seekers scanning for the Snitch.. Another play—Fleur to Aurora, Aurora to Emil, goal.
Then—finally—the Snitch appeared, a flash of gold near the Ravenclaw stands. Harry and Krum dove, neck and neck. The crowd screamed.
"Potter and Krum on the Snitch! It's neck and neck—wait, what's Blackwood—?"
Aurora was suddenly flying alongside them—not going for the Snitch, but weaving between the two Seekers, her presence disrupting their chase just enough to—
"KRUM CATCHES THE SNITCH!" Lee shouted. "IT'S OVER! DURMSTRANG-BEAUXBATONS WINS, 190–10!"
The crowd roared as the players began to descend. Fleur wrapped Aurora in a hug, Viktor raised his fist in victory, and Ivana clapped Aurora on the back with a rare smile.
In the stands, the Ravenclaw girl with the sign jumped up and down, her chart now flickering with tiny fireworks. 'Hogwarts just lost!' she muttered, amused at the girls excitement.
Back in the top box, James let out a low whistle.
"She's bloody brilliant."
Lily smiled, eyes glinting.
"Harry just lost."
'Oh yeah, lets comfort that guy.' he said, laughing.
