This Hogwarts isn't normal.

Vincent has many plans for Gwent.

He will not cooperate with only one company in the entire global market.

Europe, America, Asia, Africa.

The four major regions are divided into dozens of small areas, and each area has a partner.

Choice is very important, and now he only has eyes for the Quaffle.

Three Nimbus 2001s surround him, but the pressure tactics are ineffective against him.

The rogue rabbit is like red lightning, leaving the three of them behind in an instant.

Vincent threw a ball intuitively, passing through the fingertips of goalkeeper Miles Black.

"10 points!" Li shouted excitedly.

The three chasers, including Marcus, who came late, all focused their eyes on the Quaffle that was thrown.

"Stop him at all costs!"

They flew towards Vincent who got the ball, and stretched out their elbows sinisterly when they were about to meet.

"You deserve it!" Li's face was full of sarcasm.

There are 700 fouls in Quidditch, and Fred and George have used them all in the previous one-on-six training.

It was just an elbow outward, and Vincent rolled over to make them collide with each other.

"Spread out!" Marcus shook his arm.

He was just accidentally injured in the shoulder by Montague.

This time, the Quaffle was thrown into the goal from above Bletchley's head.

Puse took the lead and accelerated to hit Vincent who got the ball again.

Just when he was about to succeed, a Bludger flew towards his face.

He braked the broom and looked at Fred in the distance with hatred.

"Don't forget about us!"

Marcus chased Vincent with a grin.

Although there was a speed difference, Montague stayed near the goal all the time.

Lee shouted angrily into the microphone: "It's a pincer attack from the front and back, despicable!"

Mag next to him didn't say anything, as if recalling something in the past.

When she was still in Hogwarts, Gryffindor won the Quidditch annual championship for five consecutive years.

Only in the last year, when she was about to catch the Golden Snitch, she was attacked from both sides by Slytherin, fell off the broom and missed the sixth consecutive championship.

This familiar scene made her clench her hands tightly.

Vincent did not retreat on the field, and the corners of his mouth were slightly raised.

The force is mutual, whoever is faster can beat the opponent.

He accelerated towards Montague, and his right shoulder hit the opponent's chest.

Marcus behind him took advantage of the half-second stagnation to shorten the distance.

Vincent turned around at this time.

He did not dodge and hit him head-on.

Last year, Marcus was slightly better in physique.

This year, the two are basically equal.

They put their arms against each other, without any retreat, but instead controlled the broom to accelerate.

The performance of the rogue rabbit is superior to that of the Nimbus 2001, and Marcus has begun to retreat.

Just when Vincent was about to knock him down, Poussey turned his head and flew to the side.

"Don't bother them!" Angelina stood in front of him.

"Get out of the way!"

Marcus gritted his teeth, and the veins on his neck bulged.

"Not in secret, but in the open?" Vincent looked down at him, "As long as I'm in school, you'd better restrain yourself."

After Poussey narrowly passed Angelina, he saw Marcus falling down with a red face.

He chased after him without thinking and grabbed his arm before landing.

"The third 10 points!"

He looked at his own goal in despair.

Blackie held the Quaffle in his arms, but he was still flying back after passing the goal.

"This is a foul!" Marcus returned to his broom and protested loudly, "Wayne hit someone with the ball, this goal is invalid!"

"Protest is invalid!" Lee took a step ahead of Mag.

Madam Hooch below was unmoved.

She saw it clearly just now. It was clearly Montague and Marcus who committed the foul first.

McGonagall spread her hands to Lee and took the microphone handed to her. "I declare this ball valid. The game continues."

Snape in the audience looked very bad.

It was a foul, but he didn't succeed.

The little snakes sitting near him were trembling.

After this game, it is foreseeable that there will be a barrage of abuse.

Draco, who had no intention of looking for the Golden Snitch, had already cursed in his heart.

He winked at the two batsmen.

There were only two Bludgers in total, one over there and one over here.

The moment the Quaffle was thrown again, Vincent had left Marcus behind.

Amid the opponent's curses, he used his arm protector to knock the Bludger away.

The arc was not big, and it flew in the opposite direction.

Draco was still thinking about a ball that would knock him off the court, but he was suddenly hit on the head.

Harry, who was not far away, couldn't help laughing.

"Shut up! Pot!"

He was still laughing, even happier.

"Scarhead!!!"

Draco's face was distorted, as if he was going to rush over and swallow Harry in the next second.

The Bludger swung a beautiful parabola and flew towards Fred.

He pouted, spun the bat twice and hit it back hard.

Harry, who had a very good eye, quickly raised his altitude.

"Are you scared? I tell you--"Draco was hit on the forehead again.

Although he had protective gear, he was only shaken greatly after being hit by the pure iron Bludger twice.

"Damn Weasley!!!"

At the same time as this voice, there was also the sound of the Quaffle hitting the door frame and bouncing in.

"40 points!" Li suppressed his laughter, "I have to say that it's his own fault."

McGreg seemed to be very dissatisfied, but in fact, I don't know how excited she was.

The College Cup might be unstable, but the Quidditch championship was definitely stable.

Snape stood up with a "swish" and shook his black robe.

It was a terrible beating.

The moment he turned his head, the Bludger that hit Draco's head twice suddenly bounced up from the grass.

It nimbly dodged Fred and George's sticks and flew straight into the sky.

"50 points, Wayne has broken his record last year!"

Lee looked elsewhere and suddenly widened his eyes in an exaggerated way.

The Bludger knocked Harry down.

"Oh - my Merlin!" McGreg pursed her lips tightly.

Falling from this height, he would have to lie down for at least ten days and a half a month.

Vincent, who was about to throw the ball, caught a glimpse of a figure falling from the side.

He threw the Quaffle away and chased after it by pressing down the broomstick of the rogue rabbit.

Harry felt his arm being pulled hard while spinning down.

At the moment of dislocation, he was carried to Vincent's shoulder.

"It might hurt a little."

"Oh, you come--ah!"

It seemed to be twisting his arm, but it was actually a silent and wandless healing spell.

Harry felt unprecedented pain, as if his bones were broken into pieces.

"Bear with it for a while, it will soon--" Vincent raised the broomstick of the rogue rabbit and narrowly avoided the Bludger that was shot like a cannonball.

But it did not give up, and turned back as if it hit an air wall.

Harry was very uncomfortable being carried.

Rollover, sudden brake, acceleration, flip.

In just one minute, the Bludger had "bounced" back more than a dozen times.

This is not normal, very abnormal.

After excluding unreliable supernatural events, there is only one answer left.

Man-made,

Deliberate.

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