The next morning brought an electric atmosphere to the Quidditch pitch as the entire school gathered once again to witness the clash between two houses. Despite the gentle snowflakes drifting down from the overcast sky and the biting cold that made everyone shiver, nothing could dampen the collective enthusiasm for the upcoming match.
The Gryffindor section of the stands blazed with color as students unfurled another massive banner. A golden-red lion dominated the fabric, its head thrown back in a proud, defiant roar that seemed to echo across the field.
On the opposite side, the Hufflepuff supporters had turned out in full force. Every student held a flag bearing their house emblem, creating a sea of yellow and black that rippled like waves in the winter breeze. From a distance, the coordinated display resembled a vast amber tide.
Professor Sprout sat in the front row of the Hufflepuff stands, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the tunnel where the players would emerge. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles white with anticipation.
When Char finally appeared from the tunnel, gripping his Nimbus 2000 and wearing the distinctive black and yellow uniform with the Beater's badge, Professor Sprout's eyes instantly filled with tears. The sight transported her back through the years to when she had sat in these very same stands, watching her younger brother's first match with the same mixture of pride and nervous excitement.
Now her brother was gone, taken too soon, but here stood his son—ready to carry on the family tradition on this very same pitch.
Memories flooded through her mind like a rushing river, and in the blink of an eye, tears were streaming down her cheeks.
At that moment, a sharp whistle cut through the stadium's noise like a blade. Fourteen brooms immediately shot into the air, their riders taking their positions with practiced precision.
Lee Jordan was once again providing commentary alongside Professor McGonagall. Since this wasn't the traditional Gryffindor versus Slytherin rivalry match, his commentary was notably more balanced and analytical.
"Gryffindor is employing their signature triangular attack formation," he announced to the crowd. "The three Chaser girls work together with such seamless coordination that they can outmaneuver almost any defense on the field!"
His voice carried across the stadium with infectious enthusiasm. "The Weasley brothers bring their legendary teamwork to the Beater positions—their ability to anticipate each other's moves is absolutely unstoppable, and they're equally skilled at both offense and defense."
"Wood stands as Gryffindor's strongest barrier in goal, a virtually impenetrable wall when he's at his best."
"And there's our new star Seeker, Harry Potter, operating independently outside the main formation. He's actively scanning for the Golden Snitch with remarkable intensity."
Lee's excitement was palpable. "His movements are incredibly aggressive and purposeful. After witnessing Harry's incredible performance in the last match, I think everyone here would agree that he has the potential to locate the Golden Snitch quickly and end this game in spectacular fashion."
"But then we have Hufflepuff, and..." Lee's voice carried a note of uncertainty and confusion.
"Well, I have to admit, I've never seen a formation quite like this before."
"They appear to have created some kind of tightly interconnected formation with Char as the absolute center of operations."
"Even their Seeker, Cedric Diggory, hasn't separated from the main group formation."
"Hufflepuff's tactical approach is completely unprecedented in my experience."
"A Beater-centric lineup? Is such a strategy even viable?"
Before Lee could complete his analysis, something dramatic happened on the pitch that caught everyone's attention.
Harry suddenly shot forward on his Nimbus 2000 like an arrow released from a bow, clearly having spotted something significant.
The entire stadium held its collective breath in anticipation.
Lee Jordan's voice exploded with excitement. "Harry! He's found the Snitch!"
"Merlin's beard, he's flying even faster and with more determination than in his debut match!"
"Is he going to capture the Snitch? The game has barely been going on for less than a minute and it might already be over!"
But before Lee could finish his commentary, the unexpected happened.
The Hufflepuff formation moved as one cohesive unit—but not toward the Golden Snitch.
Instead, they flew directly toward the nearest Bludger.
Unlike the Golden Snitch, which players had to constantly dodge and evade, the Bludgers had an aggressive nature that made them actively seek out players. Finding them was never a challenge.
This tactical decision left the entire crowd bewildered.
What exactly were the Hufflepuffs planning?
Then everyone watched in stunned silence as Char flew straight toward the Bludger with unwavering determination.
The bat in his hands moved so quickly it became nothing more than a blur.
The impact was instantaneous.
The Bludger shot forward with incredible velocity, and the sound of the collision echoed throughout the stadium like a cannon being fired.
Harry, who had been rapidly approaching the Golden Snitch, suddenly had to bring his broomstick to an abrupt halt.
The Bludger was now screaming through the air directly toward the space in front of him at an almost unimaginable speed.
If Harry had maintained his pursuit of the Snitch, he would have been guaranteed to take a devastating hit from the redirected Bludger.
Even from a distance, Harry could feel the raw power behind the projectile, and his face went pale with realization.
Being struck by that Bludger would be like being hit by a cannonball.
With no other choice, Harry was forced to slow his Nimbus 2000 dramatically.
This sudden change in speed caused the distance between him and the Golden Snitch to increase rapidly.
"Damn it!" Harry growled through gritted teeth, his frustration evident.
If he hadn't been interrupted, he was absolutely certain he could have caught the Snitch within thirty seconds.
But now that opportunity had evaporated.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Gryffindor players were discovering their own problems.
Each Quidditch match featured two Bludgers, and the one that had just been redirected to interrupt Harry's pursuit was only the first.
The Hufflepuff formation was already approaching the second Bludger with the same coordinated precision.
Char swung his bat again with devastating effect.
This Bludger traced a perfect arc through the air as it flew directly toward the Gryffindor goal posts.
The attack forced Gryffindor's defensive formation to scatter immediately, breaking their coordinated positioning.
And in that precise moment when the gap appeared in their defense, the Hufflepuff Chasers charged forward with the Quaffle.
With virtually no resistance, they threw the Quaffle cleanly through Gryffindor's goal.
"Ten to zero! Hufflepuff scores!"
The entire stadium erupted in shock at what they had just witnessed.
The Gryffindor players felt cold sweat beading on their foreheads as the reality of their situation sank in.
Wood's expression had turned deathly pale.
In this type of situation, there was simply no way to mount an effective defense.
If this pattern continued, the point gap would widen at an alarming rate.
Once the difference reached over 150 points, even if Harry managed to catch the Golden Snitch, it wouldn't be enough to turn defeat into victory.
The three Gryffindor Chaser girls—Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet—exchanged determined looks.
Katie bit her lip decisively. "If we can't defend, then we'll attack."
"We can fly better than the Hufflepuff Chasers," Angelina added with conviction.
"Their goalkeeping is also average at best," Alicia continued. "We should be able to break through their defense easily, just like we've done before."
"As long as we can score points consistently, the gap won't widen too quickly, and there will still be time for Harry to catch the Snitch."
Immediately, the three Gryffindor Chaser girls flew out in their signature triangular formation.
They began passing the Quaffle between them with fluid precision, attempting to navigate around the Hufflepuff defenses.
In previous matches, they had been able to easily outmaneuver the typically clumsy Hufflepuff players with these coordinated tactics.
But now, everything was different.
Char simply had to swing his bat, and using the Bludger, he could effortlessly interrupt their carefully orchestrated rhythm.
The Hufflepuff players flew out in perfect synchronization, working together to take advantage of the disrupted timing and steal the Quaffle away.
Then came an immediate defensive counterattack.
"Twenty to zero! Hufflepuff scores!"
Witnessing this devastating sequence, Harry felt his heart grow heavy with dread.
He knew he had to do something decisive.
He had to step up and take control of the situation.
Thoughts raced through Harry's mind as he analyzed the field.
Cedric was undoubtedly a skilled flyer, but his broom was significantly inferior to Harry's own Nimbus 2000.
If he could take advantage of his superior equipment's performance, he might be able to exploit the moments when Char was coordinating the Hufflepuff team's attack and defense.
Or perhaps he could find an opening during the brief gaps when Char was hitting the Bludgers.
As long as he could catch the Snitch quickly, there might still be a chance for victory.
Harry waited patiently, watching for his opportunity.
The next time Char swung his bat to redirect a Bludger, Harry's eyes lit up with hope.
"There's my chance!"
But the next moment, Harry's heart sank into despair.
The Hufflepuff Keeper had flown out alongside Cedric, and both of them were now staring directly at Harry.
When there was a gap in Char's coverage, the Keeper would use his position to cooperate with Cedric and block Harry's flight path.
This tactical adjustment made Harry feel like a crab with its claws tied—completely unable to make any meaningful impact.
Sometimes, even the Chasers would abandon their positions temporarily to block his potential flight routes.
A crushing sense of powerlessness washed over Harry.
He didn't feel like he was competing against Cedric, the opposing Seeker.
Instead, he felt like he was facing the entire Hufflepuff team simultaneously.
This team clearly consisted of players who, individually, posed no real threat.
Apart from Char and Cedric, their flying skills were nothing to be afraid of.
The Gryffindor players should have been able to crush the Hufflepuff team easily.
But now, Char and his teammates moved as one unified entity.
On the field, they were systematically crushing Gryffindor in a completely one-sided massacre.
Individual heroism? Hufflepuff wasn't interested in that approach.
Unity was their path to success!
"Thirty to zero."
"Forty to zero."
Lee Jordan's voice was trembling with disbelief.
"I've never seen a Quidditch match like this in my entire life."
"Merlin's beard, Gryffindor is completely powerless against Hufflepuff!"
"The score is already one hundred and fifty to zero!"
By this point, Harry was shaking uncontrollably.
The shadow of inevitable failure loomed over him like a dark cloud.
He understood the harsh reality of the situation.
Even if he managed to catch the Golden Snitch now, it would be too late to save the game.
His only hope was to catch it quickly, at least ensuring that the final score difference wouldn't be too overwhelming and the loss wouldn't be completely humiliating.
Right at that moment, a golden flash appeared in the corner of his peripheral vision.
Harry tightened his grip on his broom and accelerated immediately.
But the next second, he witnessed a scene that filled him with complete despair.
The Hufflepuff players dispersed across the field with military precision.
Char took the lead in the coordinated movement.
While it would be a foul for anyone other than the Seeker to actually catch the Snitch, blocking and limiting the Golden Snitch's flight space didn't fall into the category of rule violations.
Char positioned himself to stop the Golden Snitch directly.
Then, one by one, the other Hufflepuff players flew into strategic positions.
The Golden Snitch found itself almost completely surrounded, seeming unable to react or determine which direction to fly.
Immediately following this tactical maneuver, Cedric reached out casually and grabbed the trapped Golden Snitch in his hand.
"Three hundred to zero! Hufflepuff wins!"
The unprecedented margin of victory left the entire Gryffindor team looking pale and shaken, as if they were trapped in a waking nightmare.
Harry lowered his broom without saying a word.
All the smugness and confidence he had felt before the game had completely evaporated.
Now he just wanted to find a hole in the ground to crawl into and hide, somewhere he could forget about this match that had been nothing short of a complete massacre.
Just at this moment, Char did something that surprised everyone in the stadium.
He flew his Nimbus 2000 over the Hufflepuff stands and stopped for a moment directly in front of Professor Sprout.
He pointed toward the distant tower.
Then Char flew straight toward the structure.
He circled the tower three times, raising his bat high in the air with each pass.
No one in the stadium understood what Char was doing.
Even the Hufflepuff students looked confused by this unexpected display.
Harry's expression darkened momentarily.
His hands clenched into fists.
Wasn't that the tower where the library was located?
Char had encountered them there that day.
They hadn't treated Char particularly well during that meeting.
Ron had even been muttering complaints about Char behind his back.
Was Char showing off his victory by doing this now?
Or was he mocking them?
But then, Professor Sprout in the stands suddenly had her eyes fill with tears.
Large droplets began flowing down her cheeks.
While Lee Jordan was still confused and didn't know how to comment on this unusual celebration, Professor McGonagall seemed to remember something significant.
Her voice was choked with emotion as she spoke.
"I remember now."
"This was the signature celebration of a former Hufflepuff Beater."
"Every time he won a match, he would fly three times around the library tower."
"That way, his sister—who was so obsessed with herbology that she couldn't bring herself to watch him compete—would know the result of the match."
"That Beater's name was Robin Sprout."
In that moment, the entire stadium fell into complete silence.
Everyone finally understood.
Char was recreating his father's traditional celebration.
And this gesture was performed specifically for Professor Sprout to witness.
The next second, Cedric soared upward on his broom.
The rest of the Hufflepuff team followed closely behind him.
They joined Char in his flight around the tower.
Circling again and again in tribute.
Witnessing this deeply moving scene, Harry felt as if he had been struck by a sledgehammer.
The dark, resentful thoughts that had been forming in his mind immediately disappeared.
Instead, he was filled with shame and embarrassment.
"I—" Harry began, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Maybe I should apologize to Char."
But even as he made this resolution, Harry never found the opportunity to act on it.
Because after the match ended, Char left the stadium in a hurry, as if something extremely important was waiting for him elsewhere.
At this very moment, Char—who had just won his first Quidditch match—had no intention of lingering to enjoy the sweet taste of victory.
Instead, he rushed directly into the greenhouse and walked straight toward the section containing the piranha algae.
After taking care of the piranha algae for what he knew would be the last time the previous night, those reward light orbs had been tantalizingly close to completion.
Char had wanted to wait until they reached their absolutely perfect state before harvesting them.
And now, as he approached the tanks, one after another, fully formed and radiant orbs of light met his eager gaze.
His eyes suddenly blazed with fiery anticipation.
"The time has come," he whispered to himself.
"Piranha algae—harvest!"