*42

After introducing team members from both sides, the traditional pre-game banter began.

Across the field, one of Slytherin's players, a buck-toothed young man, taunted Wood, "What, has Gryffindor run out of players? You're fielding two first-year rookies?"

Not backing down, Wood eyed the opponent's green and silver uniforms, retorting, "Once we win, let's see if you can still say that."

The seven Slytherin players chuckled.

"Win? When was the last time Gryffindor beat Slytherin? Wood, are you still groggy since you got knocked out last match? Talking nonsense already?" the buck-toothed player laughed.

Gryffindor hadn't won a championship since Charlie Weasley's legendary days as Seeker.

Wood, unfazed, turned to Hermione and the others, reassuring them: "No pressure, just do your best. Remember, it's all about friendship first, competition second. Winning isn't everything."

"Haha, 'friendship first, competition second' is just an excuse for not winning," the buck-toothed player laughed. "If games aren't about winning, what's the point?"

"It should be competition first, friendship second!"

Before Wood could respond, Hermione spoke up:

"Absolutely, you're right! If games aren't for winning, they lack meaning. Why lose if you can win?"

Her words sounded a bit Slytherin-like... Harry thought silently.

"You think so too?" the buck-toothed player was surprised.

It was the first time he heard agreement from a Gryffindor.

"Of course, but there's one thing you got wrong."

"What?"

"It's not 'competition first, friendship second,'" Hermione said, her smile turning cold, "It's..."

"Competition first, competition first!"

Hermione declared emphatically.

While the opponent stood bewildered, a loud whistle blew, and several balls of various sizes shot into the sky.

The game had begun!

---

**New York, Stark Tower**

"Tony, look, there's little Hermione!" Pepper pointed at the big screen, excited.

On the screen was the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

A few days ago, Hermione and Tony collaborated on a scientific experiment, eventually enchanting a drone to broadcast the match from Hogwarts to Stark Tower's screen through a magical book.

Not through signals, but magic.

Reading more books really does pay off.

Alongside Tony and Pepper, Nick Fury watched the Quidditch game live.

For Fury, this wasn't just a new sport; it was a crucial insight into the mystical world.

Watching wizards soar, fans cheer, and Hermione in her usual attire, Fury was convinced the wizarding world was real!

Every detail was too perfect to be fabricated.

"Library Witch?"

Listening to the commentator's introduction, they exchanged glances.

Hermione had never mentioned that nickname.

Is she someone who loves reading and studying?

She doesn't seem like it.

More like an athlete than a bookworm.

A true wild spirit, full of energy.

They realized that despite their camaraderie, they didn't know Hermione as well as they thought.

"Hermione's quite popular," Pepper remarked, hearing cheers of "Hermione" and "Witch" echoing. She smiled at Tony.

Previously, Pepper worried Hermione often stayed outside school due to exclusion, but now she felt reassured.

---

As the whistle blew, fourteen players darted towards their targets.

The sky was a blur of players, racing at breakneck speeds.

The battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin was on!

Bletch from Slytherin and Angelina from Gryffindor, as Chasers, weaved through the crowd. Angelina reached the Quaffle first, speeding towards Slytherin's goal.

But Bletch, unwilling to concede, caught up to Angelina's side.

Seeing her unaware, Bletch grinned and bumped into her!

She gasped, almost unseated, the Quaffle slipping from her grasp.

Luckily, Arya swooped below, catching the ball and retaliating.

However, Marcus Flint, Slytherin's captain, lay in wait. As Arya caught the Quaffle, he lunged, kicking Arya in the stomach.

She tumbled in the sky but stayed airborne, though the Quaffle was lost again.

"Hoo!!!"

Boos erupted from the stands, displeased with Slytherin's foul play.

While not technically illegal, it wasn't honorable.

In the audience, Professor McGonagall watched intently, her tension visible.

Marcus remained unfazed, even smug.

To him, the end justified the means.

The good news was someone agreed with him.

The bad news? It was Hermione, on the opposing team.

"Okay, okay, playing rough, huh?" Watching the dirty tactics, Hermione wasn't angry but smiled, "See? The other side started it."

With that, she sped towards a Slytherin player, leaping from her broom.

"Rider Kick!"

The Slytherin player never saw it coming, watching in shock as Hermione's foot zeroed in, connecting with his nose.

Knocking him out cold.

This kick was far harsher than Marcus's, sending the player and his broom tumbling into the stands, unconscious.

Hermione landed smoothly on the broom below.

Silence.

Then, Gryffindor erupted in laughter.

Slytherin protested loudly.

Yet Gryffindors, long frustrated, weren't having it.

"You can hit and kick, but Hermione's Rider Kick isn't allowed?"

"Look at her form, much more elegant than yours, with better results."

"Well... Slytherin's sly tactics met their match in Gryffindor's Witch, who retaliated with a stunning Rider Kick..."

The commentator paused, feeling more like a martial arts announcer than a Quidditch one.

"One down," Hermione noted, eyeing the agitated Slytherin team, before darting towards her next target.

Her goal was clear.