As Char walked out of the library, the faint noise he had heard from inside immediately became more real, a wave of sound that washed over h
As Char walked out of the library, the faint noise he had heard from inside immediately became more real, a wave of sound that washed over him. He was shocked. This level of the castle, home to the library, was usually the quietest corner of Hogwarts. To hear such a loud roar from here, one could only imagine what the situation was like in other places. It was worthy of being the Quidditch Cup final; the scale of the event was even bigger than any previous match.
As he walked down the corridor, he noticed that notices had been posted everywhere, announcing that classes were suspended for the day. This left the students with enough time to watch the game and, hopefully, celebrate. Everyone in the hallway looked different from their usual sleepy-eyed selves. They were all in high spirits, discussing with breathless excitement how intense and thrilling today's game would be.
The Hufflepuff students, in particular, had abandoned their usual love for sleeping in. Everyone's face was flushed, and they were holding cheering flags tightly in their hands. After all, this was the first time in many years that their house had reached the Quidditch Cup final. In a sense, today was a new chapter in Hufflepuff's Quidditch history. If they could win, he was afraid no one would be able to sleep tonight. It would be a party even crazier than the last one.
In the hallway, several Slytherin students approached, their expressions laced with sinister glee. "Haven't you heard?" one of them sneered. "Cedric, the Hufflepuff captain, broke his waist and can't participate in today's game. They're planning to make Char Sprout the new Seeker." He drew out the next word with relish. "We're looking forward to how… wonderful today's game will be."
The Slytherins emphasized the word, making it clear they were certain the final would be a one-sided massacre. With their captain gone and their tactical core, Char, changing positions, how could Hufflepuff possibly win? Although a Gryffindor victory wasn't what they wanted, compared to the Hufflepuffs who had repeatedly embarrassed them, they would rather see their "arch-enemy" win.
The Hufflepuff students were dismissive of the taunts. It was just a common tactic from the insidious Slytherins, trying to disrupt their morale before the game. They wouldn't be fooled. They were still talking about this when they saw Char coming down the corridor.
"Char! We just heard a ridiculous rumor from the Slytherins," one said. "In order to influence our team's performance, they actually fabricated the news that Cedric couldn't play. Don't you think that's ridiculous?"
But immediately afterward, their eyes fell on the captain's armband that Char was wearing. Their expressions froze in an instant, their faces turning pale. "Ce—Cedric really can't play?" they stammered. They then forced smiles. "It's okay, it's okay. As long as we stick to the tactics that won us the previous game, we are confident of defeating Gryffindor. Char, you're not really going to play Seeker, are you?"
Char just nodded slightly, agreeing with their statement. The faces of the young badgers turned completely white, as if they had fallen into an ice hole.
"Merlin, no," someone whispered, completely desperate. "How could this happen? We are only one step away from the trophy. If we miss this opportunity, we don't know how many years we will have to wait."
But a moment later, the student who had said those discouraging words had his toes stepped on hard by the person next to him. The dejected words stopped abruptly, replaced by a wave of encouragement from the others.
"Char, it's okay. We all believe in you. Have a good fight today. No matter what, we've already made history."
Char smiled a little. "Don't worry," he said calmly. "We will win. And I won't keep you waiting too long. The show will start soon, so please pay attention and don't blink."
The Hufflepuffs looked at each other in surprise. Before they could ask any further questions, Char had already quickened his pace and headed towards the player's entrance to the stadium. A moment later, Hannah Abbott, her pigtails swaying, looked on with eyes full of admiration. "Since Char said so, then we will definitely win today. We just need to do what he says. Char never breaks his promise."
The other first-graders all showed the same admiration on their faces. So far, Char had indeed led them to create many miracles. Among the first-years, his prestige was extremely high. What was an acting captain or a change of position? As long as Char said so, it would definitely come true. He would definitely bring back the Quidditch Cup today.
Soon, the atmosphere that permeated the first-year class infected the rest of the house. Hufflepuff had always had strong trust in their companions. Char had taken the team to the finals. What was so impossible about creating another miracle? Other houses might not believe it, but the students of Hufflepuff were willing to place such absolute trust in their champions. The previously depressed atmosphere immediately became high again. Susan Bones pulled out a magic camera, nervously reviewing how to use it. She didn't want to miss the brief moment of winning the championship.
Soon, the Quidditch pitch was finally open. The young wizards who had been waiting for so long rushed in, wanting to find the best position for themselves. Professor McGonagall also met with Professor Sprout, both wearing their house's cheering robes. The roaring lion and the determined badger on their respective garments seemed to be competing with each other. Even the looks the two deans gave each other were filled with tension. Normally, they were colleagues and friends, but today, there could only be one winner.
"I heard Cedric was injured?" Professor McGonagall couldn't help but say. "That's terrible news. It would be even worse if Char went to the Seeker position instead. We had been practicing for your Beater tactics for a long time, but now it seems none of it may be used."
Professor Sprout was equally unwilling to be outdone. "Oh, really? I think it's a bit boring to keep winning with the same strategy. We have a hundred ways to win. We're just looking for the one that will give you the most suspense. But you won't be getting your hands on the final championship."
The tension between the two deans was growing. Even when they sat in the audience, their gazes towards each other were still extremely sharp, as if overwhelming the other's momentum could bring some benefit to their own team. At this time, the students were waving flags and shouting with all their might, creating waves of noise. The entire stadium was now divided into two distinct sides.
Until a sharp whistle sounded. The players from both teams entered the field. The court suddenly became quiet. All eyes turned to the passage, especially to the first figure who walked out for Hufflepuff. It wasn't Cedric Diggory. It was Char Sprout. He was wearing the captain's armband, and the position marked on his jersey had become Seeker.
The Gryffindor team members breathed a sigh of relief after confirming this with their own eyes. They had been worried that Hufflepuff would play tricks and change their decision at the last minute. Now, they could finally rest assured. Harry tightened his grip on his broom, as if he could see the Quidditch trophy waving at him. But what made him feel vaguely uneasy was that there didn't seem to be any sign of worry on the faces of the Hufflepuff team members. It was as if there was no suspense in this game at all, as if the dust had already settled. Harry suddenly recalled the scene of his first battle with Hufflepuff. From beginning to end, they had been completely crushed. The Hufflepuff team had worn this exact same expression then.
The next moment, Harry shook his head sharply, throwing away all thoughts that were detrimental to his confidence. I'm much stronger than last time, he told himself. Hufflepuff threw away a whole year's worth of training tactics. Char is a temporary Seeker. He can't possibly fly as well as I do. Whoever gets the Golden Snitch as quickly as possible will win! He took a deep breath, his concentration reaching its utmost. The world around him seemed to freeze.
A sharp whistle sounded again, announcing the start of the game. Harry pushed off the ground in an instant, his Nimbus 2000 roaring into the air. A wonderful feeling came over him, more perfect than any previous launch. I'm flying great! he thought. Not only that, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a golden light passing by the moment he took off. The Golden Snitch! He drew a lightning-fast trajectory, heading straight for it. He had an incredible idea. This game might be about to end. It might end with him catching the Golden Snitch within the first three minutes. This was what all his training had been for. He could do it.
Lee Jordan in the commentary booth also exclaimed, "Harry! He's found the Snitch, and he's going straight for it! What a graceful movement! It was so quick! He turned like lightning! This game might be over!"
The noise in the stands suddenly broke out, the scene about to explode. But the next moment, Lee Jordan's voice became a raspy, high-pitched scream. "Merlin! What is that?! Char Sprout, he's showing up! He's faster than Harry, much faster! How is that possible? Where did he come from?!" Then, looking as if he were about to faint, he roared into the microphone, "The Ghost Start! Is that the signature move of the Welsh Seeker from the World Cup three tournaments ago?! Hiding under your teammates' brooms during takeoff to use them to break the airflow and reach maximum speed faster? This is an extremely difficult technique even in professional competitions. Ciel is absolutely crazy!"
Amidst the almost explosive roar from the stands, Harry's cheerful mood suddenly turned sour. He saw Char out of the corner of his eye. So fast. Too fast. He had no energy to pay attention to Lee Jordan's commentary. He couldn't understand how Char could be so much faster than him on the same broom. If this kept up… it was bad.
The Gryffindors also realized this. Oliver Wood, their experienced captain, roared, "Breakout plan!" The roar reminded the team of the devilish training they had undergone, to use themselves and their brooms to stop Char's actions, to block his position and give Harry a chance. They had thought this plan was no longer useful. After all, using such a tactic in a regular matchup was ugly. But now, if they didn't use it, they might never have another chance.
The Lion Academy team members all rode their brooms, trying to block Char's route. All the spectators in the stands widened their eyes. No one could have imagined that this final, expected to be a see-saw battle, would be over in just a few minutes. Everyone held their breath, not daring to blink.
And at this moment, amidst the figures surrounding him, a vague, strange, and graceful arc was drawn by Char. Like a leaf swirling and dancing in the wind, he easily shook off Angelina and three other Chasers who tried to intercept him. Angelina and the others were like they had been struck by lightning, their eyes wide as they stayed frozen on their brooms, recognizing the famous flying maneuver.
Lee Jordan also roared and screamed, "The Falling Leaf Whirl! And it was a real-life Falling Leaf Whirl, dribbling past three people at once! Even in a World Cup final, this would be a scene that would go down in history!"
But Char's performance was not over yet. In front of him were the Weasley twins. Fred and George, usually cynical, now had expressions more solemn than ever before. "You can't get past us!" they yelled. "Even if it means knocking you off your broom!"
Char read their meaning from their lips. A smile touched the corner of his mouth. When he was about to collide with them, he swept his broom. The broom suddenly jumped up, leaping over the twins' heads. When they turned around, they could only watch him moving away without slowing down at all. Their expressions suddenly became extremely wonderful. "What was that? Acrobatics? That's too awesome! Char, are you accepting disciples?"
Lee Jordan had already roared out the name of the move. "When this move first appeared in the first-tier league over a hundred years ago, it was considered the ultimate dribbling move! The Pendulum Soar! This is the third world-class technique Char has used so far! Am I dreaming? Is this still the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup? I thought I was commentating on the World Cup final!"
And at this time, the only person before Char was Captain Wood. The Keeper stood in front of Char like a mountain, trying to protect the "goal" behind him. But Char showed a cunning expression. The broom flickered like a dragonfly skimming the water, making Wood dizzy. He had no idea which direction Char was going to fly. In a moment of distraction, Char passed by.
Harry's heart sank to the bottom. Char is much better at flying than I am. He's so fast, he's passed me. He's going to catch the Snitch!
Just when Harry was desperate, the Golden Snitch gave him a glimmer of hope. Just as it was about to be caught, it performed a difficult move, suddenly turning around to try and get away. It seemed Char was about to brush past it. And if so, Harry, following closely, might catch it himself. His heartbeat raced.
But the next second, his eyes widened, and he froze on his broom. Because at the moment the Golden Snitch turned, Char didn't hesitate at all. He kicked off his broom and took off into the air. Like a falcon spreading its wings, he swooped quickly, catching the golden ball accurately in his palm. And just as he was falling towards the ground under the influence of gravity, his broom, having changed its trajectory after his kick, drew an arc and steadily caught him after he had fallen less than a few meters.
This moment, Lee Jordan roared, "Man and Broom Separation!" The whistle announcing the end of the game sounded almost at the same time. "Char caught the Snitch! The game is over! The score is one hundred and fifty to zero! Hufflepuff wins!"
The whole audience was boiling. Harry sat dejectedly on his broom, witnessing the time of the game frozen on the scoreboard. One minute and twenty-six seconds. That's all. But apart from feeling powerless, he couldn't feel any jealousy. Only a hint of bitterness spread across his face. Char had single-handedly shaken off the entire Gryffindor team. Was this the gap between them? Wood and the rest of the Gryffindor team also gathered around, sighing and comforting him. "It's okay, Harry. We lost, but we really tried our best. Char's flying skills shouldn't be in the first grade. He should be playing in the World Cup." Harry nodded silently. "After today," he said to Wood, "I want to practice more." Wood clapped his shoulder firmly.
The bitterness of the losers was not Hufflepuff's concern. The most deafening sound ever heard rang out from their section of the stands. Professor Sprout was waving a large flag wildly, her face flushed, breathless, her whole body showing unprecedented ecstasy. All the students were huddled together, crying and laughing. No one would have thought that the Quidditch Cup champion this year would be them. How many years had it been? Hufflepuff finally had a championship trophy.
Gradually, as they came to their senses, a wave of cheers erupted from the audience. "Char! Char!"
Char flew among his teammates. As if they had agreed on it, they flew very fast, heading to the first row to lift up Cedric, who was lying on a stretcher, watching the game and applauding excitedly. Char put the captain's armband back on Cedric's arm. Together, they carried Cedric and circled the room three times. Their shouts became louder and louder. "Cedric Diggory! Loren Thais!" The name of each Hufflepuff team member was called out. This was a victory for the whole team.
When the heavy trophy was brought to them, Professor Sprout announced directly, "Today is a special day for Hufflepuff! The kitchens will serve gourmet food all night long! Come on, kids, this is what everyone deserves. Forget about class today, control your weight, and don't worry about minors not drinking. Everyone, let's party! As for the dance, I think it's ready. Ladies and boys, go and invite your favorite team members and dance until you are exhausted!"
Waves of streamers rained down across the common room. The burning gazes of the girls searched for Char. But what confused them was that it was as if he had disappeared from the face of the earth.
At that moment, Char, under his Invisibility Cloak, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. It felt like his aunt had been planning this for a long time, trying to create some sparks between him and the girls of Hufflepuff. She definitely wanted him to get married as soon as he graduated. Fortunately, he had reacted quickly and put on the cloak. Otherwise, leaving would have been much harder.
It wasn't that he didn't want to join in the revelry. If it was his second or third year, he would have been happy to. But Hogwarts was not particularly safe at this time. The end of the school year was not far away. When Quirrell finished his leave and returned, the fight for the Philosopher's Stone would reach its craziest moment. Char had already planned not to get involved, but it was always a good idea to be prepared. What if Quirrell still had evil intentions towards him? Now was not the time to relax.
He walked towards the small greenhouse. Several of his plants there were not far from maturity. He didn't want any factors to affect their final quality. Just after he stepped into the greenhouse, a silver light began to flash in his sight. His gaze suddenly fell on Demeter's Silver Cup. The silver light was the flashing of the patterns on its surface, just like when he had gained the unprecedented worship and faith from the trolls. His heart skipped a beat. The image of his housemates looking at him with increasingly fanatical admiration after the game came to mind. Could it be that some of them have already reached the standard of faith? Can it help the Silver Cup speed up the cooling of its ritual magic?
He took out his wand and gently tapped the cup. A crisp and pleasant sound echoed through the small greenhouse.
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