The Quidditch pitch was in absolute ruins.
The stands were splintered and shattered, suspended in the air in an eerie, weightless state. Magical plants—some flailing wildly, others deathly still—carpeted the entire field.
Crouch’s laughter grew increasingly manic, his mental state reaching a fever pitch. This frenzy fueled his magic, making his spells grow ever more formidable.
Chapter 435