HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

December had arrived, bringing with it the much-anticipated Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

Early that Saturday morning, Andre, the team captain, had already begun his usual pre-game speech, his voice filled with both confidence and nervous energy.

"Don't be nervous! We've practiced these tactics over and over — just follow the plan!"

"Cho, relax! Even if this match doesn't go our way, we still have two more rounds! There's plenty of opportunity!"

"If anything happens to your broom, don't be stubborn — call for a timeout immediately! Avoiding injuries is just as important as scoring!"

Ironically, the team, who hadn't been particularly anxious before, now looked slightly uneasy after Andre's frantic words.

Vizet, however, remained unaffected. Seated nearby, he was completely engrossed in reviewing his notes, his mind detached from the growing tension in the room.

Soon enough, they'd be in the locker room, where Andre would go over the strategies once again in painstaking detail. There was no point in worrying beforehand.

Besides, Vizet had long since learned from experience that nervousness could be counterproductive. In his previous life, he had developed his own method for maintaining focus — preparation. Reviewing and refining knowledge always brought a sense of calm.

Outside, the Quidditch stands were already packed with students eager for the match. Wizards didn't have an abundance of entertainment options, and watching a game like this was a rare thrill. The excitement in the air was palpable.

As Vizet stepped onto the field, a loud crack sounded above, followed by an explosion of color. A magnificent fireworks eagle soared into the sky, its wings shimmering in brilliant hues.

Fred and George Weasley had clearly been busy. From the stands, the twins waved at him enthusiastically, grinning as the eagle disappeared into the sky.

In fact, many people in the crowd were waving — whether to him or to their own team, he wasn't entirely sure. The match was still half an hour away, yet the energy in the stadium was already building, buzzing with anticipation.

The whole scene reminded Vizet of the football leagues from his previous life — the World Cup, the Champions League — where stadiums brimmed with roaring fans long before the first whistle.

Andre led the team into the locker room, where they changed into their sky-blue Quidditch robes. They strapped on knee pads, gloves, and chest protectors, all coated in deep bronze leather oil, giving them the appearance of true battle armor.

Once everyone was suited up, Andre went over the tactics one final time.

"We have a lot of new players this year, and luckily, Hufflepuff is relatively friendly. This match will give you a good chance to get used to the game's rhythm."

Then, with a serious expression, he added, "But don't let your guard down. Only Hufflepuffs are this friendly. When we play Slytherin, it'll be an entirely different story. They're full of dirty tricks. Stay sharp."

Roger chuckled and added, "But that's a problem for another day. For now, let's just focus on this match."

"Exactly!" Andre said, setting the tactical board down. "Make your final adjustments. The bell will ring when it's time."

As they waited, Cho Chang pulled out a bag of Chocolate Frogs and passed them around.

"Penelope asked me to bring these for you," she explained. "Chocolate helps with nerves. If you're feeling anxious, eat some."

At exactly eleven o'clock, the team stepped out of the locker room and made their way toward the center of the Quidditch pitch.

The moment they emerged, a wave of cheers and shouts erupted from the stands.

"Go Ravenclaw!"

"Hufflepuff must win!"

"Just don't lose too badly! Our house emblem is an eagle, not a pigeon!"

"Hey! What kind of encouragement is that?!"

"We have to win! Ravenclaw can't afford another loss!"

Amid the chaos of voices, it was clear that the Ravenclaw supporters were… cautiously hopeful at best. Given the number of new players on the team, expectations weren't particularly high.

"Ignore them!" Andre called over the noise. "Today, we're proving Ravenclaw's strength!"

"Yes!" the team responded in unison, their voices steady and determined.

At that moment, another explosion lit up the sky. A second fireworks eagle soared upward, its cry echoing through the stadium as it flapped its massive wings and ascended, higher and higher, until it finally vanished into the clouds.

It was another of Fred and George's creations. Though their fireworks were still a work in progress, the twins were no doubt making good money from their sales.

Before the crowd had time to recover, a loud bang announced the arrival of another firework — this time, a large, playful badger.

"We've got more! Both house fireworks are for sale!"

"House fireworks! Two Galleons each!"

"Look! Here's the Badger and Eagle combo you wanted!"

Two more explosions filled the sky, and once again, the Badger and Eagle fireworks appeared, hovering side by side, their cries mingling as they vied for attention.

The crowd erupted into laughter and applause, and despite the serious match ahead, Vizet couldn't help but smile. The Weasley twins had a knack for turning even the most competitive events into moments of joy.

But the game was about to begin.

With the echoes of cheers still ringing in the air, Vizet tightened his grip on his broom, ready to prove himself.

One minute before eleven o'clock, Madam Hooch soared into the stadium on her broom, her sharp eyes scanning the players.

"Mount your brooms!" she instructed, her voice crisp and authoritative. The silver whistle in her mouth gleamed under the morning light.

This was her domain. The Quidditch pitch was where she belonged, and refereeing was second nature to her.

She hovered in midair, gripping the Quaffle while keeping an eye on the Bludgers that strained against their restraints.

"Mount your brooms and listen for my whistle."

With a practiced flick of her wrist, she released the Bludgers, allowing them to streak into the sky like unleashed beasts.

She glanced at her stopwatch.

"Three… two… one — Game on!"

A sharp blast of the whistle cut through the air, and in an instant, the players sprang into motion.

The Beaters shot upwards first, their bats raised as they moved to intercept the Bludgers.

Vizet, however, had already anticipated the moment. The second he heard "Game on," he shot forward, his broom slicing through the air. His hand closed around the Quaffle the very instant it was tossed into play.

"What incredible speed!" Lee Jordan's excited voice boomed from the announcer's booth. "A stunning start by Ravenclaw's newest player — Vizet grabs the Quaffle first!"

A murmur rippled through the stands.

"Wait a minute—what broom is he using?" Lee Jordan squinted. "A Five-Star Sweep? You're telling me he's flying at that speed on a Five-Star Sweep?"

He turned towards the professor's booth.

"Professor Flitwick! I thought you'd get your new player a top-tier broom!"

Professor Flitwick, standing on a raised ebony platform, beamed at the scene before him. Seeing Vizet seize possession so decisively had clearly put him in an excellent mood.

"If we win the Quidditch Cup this year," Flitwick called back cheerfully, "I'll see about getting the whole team new brooms!"

While the conversation unfolded, Vizet wasted no time.

He had already pivoted midair, angling straight toward the Hufflepuff goalposts.

The Hufflepuff Chasers hesitated for a split second — long enough for Vizet to gain momentum. By the time they reacted, he was already streaking across the field like a bolt of lightning.

The Hufflepuff Keeper's eyes widened in alarm. He scrambled to position himself in front of the three goalposts, darting left and right in an attempt to predict Vizet's shot.

But Vizet didn't hesitate.

He hurled the Quaffle with precision, the bright red ball slicing through the air in a perfect arc.

It whizzed past the Keeper's face, close enough to brush the tip of his nose before sailing cleanly through the hoop.

A deafening roar erupted from the Ravenclaw stands.

"RAVENCLAW SCORES!" Lee Jordan shouted, his voice practically cracking. "TEN POINTS — IN LESS THAN A MINUTE!"

The crowd went wild.

"Vizet lands the first goal!" Jordan continued. "I've been commentating for years, and I have never seen such a fast opening score!"

The Hufflepuff team was momentarily stunned.

How had that happened so quickly? The game had barely started!

On the sidelines, Andre didn't waste the advantage.

"Tactics! Stick to the plan!" he bellowed.

Madam Hooch reset the game, tossing the Quaffle back into play.

Once again, Vizet surged forward, reacting just a split second faster than the opposing Chasers —

— And snatched the Quaffle mid-air.

The match had only just begun, but already, the stadium was on fire.