Moriarty made a surprising move, spinning around sharply and diving toward the far right end of the pitch.
"The intention is obvious—he's going to support Tonks! But what about the Snitch?" Ludo Bagman shouted, shaking his head in disbelief. "Moriarty just gave up his lead in the chase for the Snitch!"
Now Roman seized the opportunity—Captain Roman soared into the sky, each movement lean and efficient, terrifyingly fast.
A wave of gasps rippled through the audience. Gemma and the other girls stomped their feet in frustration. "Why save Tonks, sir? You'd win if you caught the Snitch!"
Although Tonks was one of the founders of the Forever Shining fan group, the fans all agreed—Moriarty should've ignored her.
The Quaffle simply couldn't compare to the Golden Snitch.
But Moriarty thought otherwise. From the moment the Snitch appeared, both national team Beaters had fixed their attention on him.
He couldn't afford to underestimate professional players' foresight. With two Bludgers tracking him like cursed spirits, even a slight miscalculation could turn deadly. Challenging Roman for the Snitch under that kind of pressure was reckless.
The Quaffle, though—Tonks had it. If she managed to score against the national team, Roman's composure might crack entirely.
Moriarty shot a glance toward Roman. Two wild Bludgers screamed after him, while Marcus and Charlie unleashed brutal attacks on the national Seeker.
"Oh Roman, you're the national team's biggest weakness," Moriarty muttered coldly.
Leaving Roman to the Dream Team's Beaters, Moriarty pivoted sharply and blazed toward Tonks.
"Nymph, rise higher!" Moriarty bellowed. "Let's use our combo—DoubleS!"
"I've been dying to try our new trick!" Tonks's eyes sparkled as she grinned. Ever since grabbing the Quaffle, the exploding-head Beater had been tailing her like a cursed shadow.
Tonks began to rise into the air, the explosive-head Beater still trailing close.
"Moriarty? I'm going!" Tonks shouted, leaning left as she twisted into a tight semi-circle in the air, like a Muggle's drifting car maneuver.
A fresh wave of gasps burst from the stands. The explosive-head Beater smirked. "That's it?"
He mimicked the maneuver flawlessly. Though the move dazzled young Hogwarts students, it was child's play to professional players.
"It's not over," Tonks snapped, defiant.
She twirled through several successive spirals, each turn sharp and fast, leaving shimmering S-shaped trails in her wake. From afar, it looked like a massive double-helix streaked across the sky.
Ludo's voice lit up. "Oh! I think some sharp-eyed folks in the stands already figured it out—DoubleS!"
"Yes!" he confirmed excitedly. "It's the Double S-curve! Tonks is weaving in an S-pattern—but what about Moriarty?"
"Mr. Moriarty must be flying in an S-pattern too! It's classic!" fans began to chatter excitedly.
In the sky, the explosive-head Beater finally realized his mistake. He had followed Tonks too high and now hung isolated in midair—with only Moriarty below him!
"Damn, it's a trap!" he growled, clenching his fists. He tried to dart above Tonks to knock her off course—but it was too late.
Moriarty was already spiraling upward in an S-curve, his predator's gaze locked onto the explosive head.
"Nymph, descend—force him to retreat!"
Moriarty's voice sliced through the air, hitting the explosive-head Beater square in the ears. His expression turned grim.
The three players now formed a perfect aerial sandwich—the explosive head caught between Moriarty rising below and Tonks diving from above.
Tonks plunged headfirst, Moriarty straightened up, and the two of them blitzed through the air like meteors.
Another collective gasp came from the stands. Ludo nearly dropped his binoculars. "Are they insane?! They'll crash into him if they keep that speed! If they don't break, the explosive head will be flattened in five seconds!"
But Moriarty and Tonks didn't slow down.
They doubled their speed.
Tonks's eyes glowed with fierce joy, the thrill of partnership and battle flaring in her heart. The way they charged toward each other made her think of something beautiful—true love is mutual.
She leaned harder into her dive, accelerating.
Ludo had said five seconds. In truth, it only took two and a half.
The wind screamed past the explosive head's ears—he could feel the pressure above and below him—and panic surged in his chest.
With no time to spare, he darted away. Tonks's broom sliced past his scalp, missing by inches.
Clap!
Tonks and Moriarty reached out and smacked hands midair—a perfect high five.
"Moriarty catches the ball!" Tonks had thrown the Quaffle mid-maneuver, and Moriarty tucked it securely under one arm. The scent of Tonks still clung faintly to the ball.
"Our turn to attack," Moriarty grinned, squeezing the Quaffle. "Let's move!"
"What about Roman?" Tonks glanced backward, still worried the national Seeker might grab the Snitch.
"Forget him. Marcus and Charlie's pressure is enough to bury him."
Their daring aerial play had taken only seconds, and during that time, Charlie had kept Roman under constant bombardment. Roman's confidence was visibly crumbling.
Tonks cast a quick look toward Roman—he was swerving desperately, trying to shake off a Bludger glued to his broom like a magnetic curse.
Ludo narrated quickly, "Roman's attempt to seize the Snitch seems to have failed! His momentum's dropped. Hopefully he can reset soon.
Meanwhile, the Dream Team's got the Quaffle! Moriarty's driving it forward himself—sure, he gave up the Snitch, but we all know he hasn't truly let it go.
He's passed the Quaffle to Leon, who now leads the charge against the national team's defense!"
The national side had been warned. They'd arranged a solid defensive formation and waited for the assault.
Moriarty noticed something strange—Jericho, once plagued by the magician, was now haunting him instead.
A reversal. A flaw in the national team's formation.
Moriarty refocused. Leon twisted his body using the Sloth Grip Roll, tumbling past the red-nosed Beater in a blur. Moriarty angled in from the side like a striking falcon. The magician tried to intercept—but Jericho blocked him.
"Come on, magician," Jericho taunted, gliding close with a grin. "Show me a magic trick."
The magician met his gaze coldly. Information from the Shadows Organization flashed in his mind: Jericho—Moriarty's comrade.
A plan formed. The magician slowed deliberately, ceasing his elusive zigzag pattern.
"Stop flirting and catch the Quaffle!" Leon yelled, treating the ball like a missile and hurling it at Jericho.
Jericho caught it, the impact lighting a fire in his veins. His blood surged.
"To victory!"
Jericho raised the Quaffle and roared—but as he charged, a white blur streaked past.
It was the magician.
"What?" Jericho blinked. "Am I seeing things? Wasn't his uniform navy?"
Startled, he discreetly passed the ball to Tonks.
But the explosive-head Beater was closing in again.
Tonks's hair shimmered silver now, and lightning danced in her eyes.
Ludo's voice rose again. "Tonks is closing in on the goalposts! She's only meters away from scoring on the national team!
But she's got trouble—explosive head and red nose are flanking her! Both Beaters are bearing down—and the national Chasers are rushing in to block!"
Suddenly, Ludo stopped short, then screamed, "MORIARTY! Moriarty's streaking toward the left flank! He's a blur—like a comet! Did he spot the Snitch?!"
All eyes turned to Moriarty—and there it was. A flicker of gold, dancing just ahead.
Roman surged after it, but he was a moment too slow. A flicker of defeat crossed his face.
Moriarty was nearly upon the Snitch.
Ludo's voice cracked with excitement. "Moriarty found it first! That's what makes him terrifying—the instincts and reflexes of a top-tier Seeker! He's peaking right before our eyes!
That's my evaluation—he's reached the pinnacle of Seeker skill!"
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