Game Start.
The Quidditch match kicked off with Lee Jordan, non-professional commentator and passionate Gryffindor, taking the mic. Unsurprisingly, his bias against Slytherin was obvious from the start.
"The Slytherins look very motivated," he said.
"Of course, that's because they used off-field trickery to take away the Hufflepuff team's broom advantage..."
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall snapped sternly.
"Oh—sorry, Professor. What I meant was: after weakening their opponents, the Slytherins obviously won't waste this golden opportunity."
"Now that the broomstick advantage is gone, if they still can't win, then Slytherin will have a hard time finding an excuse for their failure."
"Jordan, if you continue like this..." McGonagall warned.
Jordan shrank under her glare—but did he see a slight smile tug at the corners of her mouth? Surely not... Must've been his imagination.
The Game Officially Begins.
"Slytherin Chasers Montague and Warrington are charging at Blake, who's got the Quaffle!" Jordan reported.
"Classic Slytherin strategy: double-tackle the opponent with brute force. If I'm right, they're going for the infamous double-ghost maneuver..."
"Not saying Blake is weak—but not many players can take a hit from two trolls in uniform. Slytherin seems to recruit size over skill—Malfoy excluded, of course. He's got more money than brains—"
"Lee Jordan!"
"Sorry, Professor!"
"Oh no! Looks like Blake's broom is sluggish. He's not dodging like usual—Montague and Warrington are closing in fast!"
"They're not aiming for the Quaffle... They're going to hit him!"
A dull thud echoed from above.
"Wait—Blake sped up at the last second! It was all a bluff!"
"Montague and Warrington smashed into each other! Incredible!"
"Now only Marcus Flint stands between Blake and the goal—Slytherin's Beaters are too busy dodging Bludgers to help!"
"Blake passes the Quaffle to Smith—Smith back to Blake—and Blake scores!"
"Ten points to Hufflepuff! What a play—twenty seconds in!"
The crowd roared. Lee Jordan grinned.
"Even without broom advantage, the Hufflepuff team is showing incredible coordination!"
Play paused as Montague and Warrington were knocked unconscious and carried off.
"Blake's now flying past the stands—looks like he's showing off to his girlfriends—ah, young love," Jordan added.
In the Slytherin stands, Cassandra Warley's face was pale with fury.
Blake, hearing Jordan's commentary, flew down and yelled:
"You better sleep with your eyes open tonight, Jordan—I'm putting an Acromantula in your bed!"
"Oh, I take it back!" Jordan whimpered.
The match resumed—but from here, it was a massacre.
Blake's playmaking was relentless. Within minutes, Hufflepuff led 150–0. The Slytherin Chasers couldn't even touch the Quaffle. Their Beaters? Useless. Every Bludger they sent was returned five times faster—each time barely missing their heads.
Meanwhile, Blake faced no interference. With the Bludgers neutralizing Slytherin's Beaters, he and the Chasers ran the field like a drill team.
Draco Malfoy kept to the skies, not because he enjoyed flying high—but because he was terrified of getting knocked out like his teammates.
Then he saw it: a glint of gold.
The Golden Snitch!
The score was still 150–0. If he caught the Snitch now, Slytherin would tie. They could at least save face, then crush Ravenclaw in the next match to overtake Hufflepuff in total points.
He dived.
If Flint could just delay the kickoff for a few more seconds...
And Flint did just that—holding the Quaffle and pretending to scan for teammates.
But what Malfoy didn't know was—Cedric Diggory wasn't watching the Snitch.
He was watching him.
The moment Malfoy dived, Cedric followed. Though he started late, his broom was faster. He couldn't beat Malfoy to the Snitch—but that wasn't the plan.
BUMP!
Malfoy's broom jerked. Cedric had slammed into him.
Startled, Malfoy hesitated—and that second was all Cedric needed to catch up.
He reached the Snitch first... but instead of grabbing it—
He somersaulted in front of it and batted it away.
The Snitch vanished into the sky.
"Our captain said we'd win against you," Cedric shouted.
"But we decide when the game ends."
Malfoy stared in disbelief.
He finally understood Blake's plan.
Below, Blake was racking up goals. Cedric's job wasn't to catch the Snitch—it was to stop Malfoy from ending the match.
The score climbed: 200–0, 300–0, 400–0...
500–0.
The audience was stunned. Hufflepuff wasn't trying to win. They were trying to annihilate Slytherin.
Slytherin's Beaters were helpless. One, Bol, was hit in the head by a Quaffle and fell from his broom. Madam Pomfrey rushed to him and shook her head—he was done.
No substitutes allowed.
Now Derek, the remaining Beater, was on his own—and soon, he too collapsed under pressure.
With both Beaters out, Hufflepuff's own finally got involved—firing Bludgers straight at Slytherin's Chasers.
Montague was the first to fall. Two Bludgers struck him in tandem. Then Warrington dropped.
"Malfoy!" Flint yelled, panicked.
"Catch the damn Snitch!"
But Cedric stayed on him, never letting him close. And Cedric never reached for the Snitch himself.
The rules said a Seeker could catch the Snitch—but didn't say they had to.
The game dragged on. Blake's words echoed:
"The Slytherin team is dead!"
THUMP!
Even Malfoy was eventually knocked from his broom, unconscious.
Desperate, Flint called out:
"Mrs. Hooch! We surrender!"
"If the Snitch isn't caught, the game isn't over," Blake replied coolly—and hurled the Quaffle at Blackie, Slytherin's Keeper.
The force of the hit knocked him out cold.
Now only Flint was left on the field—facing all seven of Hufflepuff's players alone.
Even Mrs. Hooch was speechless. She'd never seen anything like it.
She forgot to blow the whistle.
Then it happened.
2512...
Two Bludgers smashed into Flint. He hit the ground, out cold.
Slytherin had no one left in the air.
Only then did Mrs. Hooch recover.
Just as she lifted her whistle—
The crowd gasped.
Cedric held up the Snitch, smiling.
Final Score: 650–0.
Flint, barely conscious, saw the scoreboard—and passed out again.
Above the pitch, Blake and his team hovered like grim reapers, grinning.
Lee Jordan forgot to comment. He just began mentally composing his apology.
After all, Blake would throw an Acromantula on his bed...
The game was over.
Slytherin lost by 650 points, a record-smashing defeat.
Worse, all seven Slytherin players ended up in the hospital wing.
Many had assumed that without their superior brooms, Hufflepuff would fall apart.
Instead, Blake and his teammates had dominated. Every player had performed above expectations.
The remaining house teams were terrified.
Even Ravenclaw's Cho Chang walked up to Blake after the game, her voice hesitant.
"Blake... could you be gentler with us? Not so... rough?"
Hannah and Hermione, standing nearby, were not pleased.
"What do you mean, 'not so rough'?" Hermione muttered.
"Who even says that?"
Blake, ever calm, made an announcement on behalf of Team Hufflepuff:
"This tactic was only for the Slytherins. Against other houses, we'll play normally."
The rest of Hogwarts exhaled in relief.
Losing was one thing. Getting hospitalized was another.
As Cho walked away, she gave Blake a lingering look. He maintained a composed expression—but his heart skipped a beat.
"Ravenclaw girls," he thought, "really were something else."
Back in the locker room, the Hufflepuff team showered and changed, the echo of their historic victory still ringing in the air.
Blake said to his friends who were waiting for him: "We have to celebrate tonight, do you want to come?"
"Thank you, Blake, but I have a Potions paper tonight."
Hermione said, imitating Cho Chang's tone, then turned and left.
"Thank you, Blake...I'll help you barbecue tonight!"
Hannah also wanted to be like Hermione.
But she really couldn't bear to part with the feast Blake cooked...
"Oh...thank you, Blake..."
Blake turned around with a straight face.
Then he saw that Cassandra was also imitating Cho Chang's tone.
"What's wrong with you all..."
"What's wrong with me? I just wanted to say that you gave us Slytherin a terrible defeat and it would be too much for me to celebrate with you, so... thank you Blake! Bye!"
Cassandra finished speaking and left.
Cedric couldn't help but said: "I've told you a long time ago, you have to be single-minded."
Blake said seriously: "Yes, I should learn from you. This... I'm really troubled..."
Cedric felt depressed when he thought that he was still single.
"Actually...I also want to be so troubled..."
=============
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