The next morning, the Quidditch Pitch was once again bustling with energy.
Despite the falling snow and the bone-chilling cold, it did nothing to dampen the enthusiasm of the teachers and students who had gathered to watch the match. The stands were filled to capacity, the anticipation palpable in the air.
Gryffindor had unfurled a massive banner in the stands, depicting a golden-red lion roaring proudly with its head held high.
On the opposite side, not a single Hufflepuff was missing. Every student held a flag bearing the Hufflepuff crest. From a distance, it looked like a sweeping wave of earthy yellow.
Professor Sprout sat in the front row, her eyes fixed intently on the players' entrance tunnel. She didn't blink once.
When she finally saw Char walk out, clutching his Nimbus 2000 and wearing a uniform adorned with the Beater's emblem, her eyes instantly welled up with tears. Her thoughts drifted back to her school days, when she had once watched her brother's first match from the very same stands.
Now, her brother was gone.
And standing in his place was her nephew.
Flooded with bittersweet memories, Professor Sprout couldn't hold back her tears. In the blink of an eye, they streamed down her cheeks.
A sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air, cutting through the rising buzz of the stadium.
Brooms soared skyward.
As always, commentary duties were handled by Lee Jordan, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.
Since this wasn't a Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match, Lee Jordan's tone was calmer and more analytical, rather than heated or biased.
"The Gryffindor team is sticking with their signature triangular attacking formation," he began. "Their three Chasers—Katie, Angelina, and Alicia—cooperate seamlessly. Their passing is fluid, and they can break through nearly any defense on the pitch."
"The Weasley twins, pranksters in the halls and powerhouses in the air, are outstanding as Beaters."
"Wood remains Gryffindor's impenetrable wall in front of the hoops."
"Our new Seeker, Harry, is separated from the formation, circling high and scanning for the Golden Snitch."
"His movements are precise and full of purpose. We've all seen his performance in the last match. If he finds the Snitch early, Gryffindor could end this game quickly."
Lee Jordan paused briefly.
"On the other hand… Hufflepuff…"
A hint of hesitation crept into his voice.
"Hm? I've never seen a formation like this before."
"They've formed a tight, interconnected structure—centered around Char? Even their Seeker, Cedric, is staying within formation?"
"A strategy built around a Beater? This is… highly unorthodox. Can this even work?"
Before Lee could finish speculating, a sudden shift occurred on the pitch.
Harry shot forward like an arrow, eyes locked onto something gleaming in the distance. The entire stadium collectively held its breath.
Lee Jordan shouted in excitement. "Harry! He's spotted the Golden Snitch!"
"Merlin's beard, look at that acceleration—faster and more decisive than last time! Is he going to catch it? Could this match end in under a minute?"
But just as Harry was about to close the distance, Hufflepuff's formation sprang into action—not to chase the Snitch, but the Bludgers.
Unlike the evasive Golden Snitch, Bludgers were naturally drawn to players. Tracking them down was simple.
Spectators and players alike were confused. What were Hufflepuff doing?
Then, Char darted straight toward one of the Bludgers. With a single fluid motion, his Beater's bat sliced through the air in a blur.
A thunderous crack echoed through the stadium—like a cannon firing.
In the very next moment, Harry abruptly pulled back, stopping mid-flight. The Bludger Char had hit was hurtling through the air—straight into Harry's path—at an unimaginable speed.
Had Harry not stopped, he would have taken the full brunt of the Bludger.
Even from a distance, he felt its sheer force. His face turned pale.
Slowing down was the only option.
The distance between him and the Golden Snitch instantly widened.
"Damn it!" he growled, his frustration palpable.
If he hadn't been forced to dodge, he was sure he could have caught the Snitch in under thirty seconds.
At that moment, gasps erupted from the Gryffindor side. The second Bludger was in play.
Char and his team flew into formation. Another strike.
This Bludger flew straight toward Gryffindor's goalposts, shattering their defensive structure. With the Beaters distracted and the formation broken, Hufflepuff's Chasers surged forward with the Quaffle.
They shot and scored.
"Ten to zero. Hufflepuff scores!"
Stunned silence followed.
Gryffindor's players broke out in cold sweat. Wood's expression was ghostly pale.
They realized defense under these circumstances was impossible.
The Gryffindor Chasers clenched their fists.
"If we can't defend—we attack."
"We're better flyers."
"Their Keeper is weak."
They launched forward in a triangle, passing the Quaffle among themselves with practiced ease. But Char disrupted their rhythm again with a well-placed Bludger.
Hufflepuff countered with synchronized coordination. The Quaffle was stolen.
Another goal.
"Twenty to zero. Hufflepuff scores!"
Harry's anxiety deepened.
He needed to act—fast.
His advantage lay in the superior speed of the Nimbus 2000. If he could exploit the gaps when Char focused on offense or a Bludger strike, he could strike.
He waited.
Char swung again—now was the moment.
Harry darted forward.
But Hufflepuff was ready.
Their Keeper and Cedric swooped in together, cutting off his path. Then, even a Chaser moved in to block him.
It felt like the entire Hufflepuff team was against him.
Harry had never felt so powerless.
Their teamwork was impeccable. Their flying, though not individually impressive, combined with Char's precise control and Cedric's coordination, crushed Gryffindor's momentum.
"Thirty to zero."
"Forty to zero."
Lee Jordan's voice trembled. "I've never seen a match like this. Gryffindor is completely outclassed!"
"One hundred and fifty to zero!"
Harry trembled.
Even if he caught the Snitch now, they'd still lose. Badly.
But if he caught it quickly, the score difference wouldn't be as humiliating.
A flash of gold appeared in the corner of his eye. He bolted.
But what he saw next filled him with despair.
Hufflepuff players spread out across the pitch. Char blocked the Snitch's path—not catching it, which would be illegal—but containing it.
The Snitch hovered in confusion.
Cedric swept in with practiced finesse and caught it.
"Three hundred to zero. Hufflepuff wins!"
The Gryffindor players stood frozen, pale and stunned.
Harry landed, silent. His confidence was shattered. Shame overwhelmed him.
Then, Char flew over the Hufflepuff stands and hovered briefly in front of Professor Sprout. He pointed to a distant tower—then flew toward it, circling it three times while holding his bat high.
Confusion rippled through the crowd.
Was this a victory gesture? A taunt?
Professor Sprout covered her mouth, sobbing uncontrollably.
Lee Jordan remained puzzled, but Professor McGonagall's voice wavered with emotion.
"I remember now," she said softly.
"That tower is the library tower."
"Robin Sprout used to fly around it three times after every victory, for his sister—who was too immersed in Herbology to attend his matches. This was how he told her he won."
"That Beater… was Robin Sprout."
The stadium fell silent.
Char wasn't showing off.
He was honoring his late father—and his aunt, Professor Sprout.
Then Cedric let out a whistle mid-air, and the entire Hufflepuff team followed Char, circling the tower in tribute.
Harry watched, and a heavy blow struck his chest—not physical, but emotional.
The bitterness and dark thoughts he'd harbored evaporated.
What remained was guilt.
"I… I should apologize," Harry whispered.
But he never got the chance.
Char disappeared from the pitch immediately after the match, rushing off as though something more important awaited.
He didn't stop to celebrate.
Instead, Char raced to the Greenhouse, straight to the Piranha Algae.
He had tended them the night before. The reward light orbs were nearly ripe.
He had waited for the perfect moment.
Now, full orbs shimmered before his eyes.
A burning light flickered in them.
"It's time."
"Piranha Algae—harvest!"
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