On the field, with the first player eliminated, the pressure on the remaining two increased significantly. They had to keep 120% of their focus, dodging both Bludgers while looking for any chance to unseat their opponent.
After over ten minutes of intense back-and-forth, the match finally came to a close. To everyone’s surprise, the winner turned out to be the underdog third-year student, who used his agility to gain the upper hand against his taller, stronger fifth-year opponent at a crucial moment.
The crowd burst into applause and cheers.
Harris walked over, smiling as he extended his hand. “Willard, welcome to the team.”
“It’s an honor, Captain,” the third-year replied, shaking Harris’s hand, and another round of applause filled the stands.
Next up was the selection of the Chasers. Kyle got to his feet, grabbed his broom, and made his way onto the field.
“Go, Kyle!” Cedric shouted from the stands, setting off a firework. It exploded overhead, forming a massive banner of a running badger with the words “Go Kyle” emblazoned across it in shimmering letters.
Where did he even get that? Kyle wondered as he arrived at the center of the pitch, trying not to look too embarrassed by the dramatic display.
He would be competing against two fifth-years for the Chaser position.
“As a Chaser, accuracy is key,” Harris explained, holding the Quaffle. “I’ll be playing Keeper, and you’ll be responsible for scoring. The one who scores the most points within the time limit makes the team. So… who wants to go first?”
“I’ll go,” Kyle volunteered, stepping forward. Going first would mean facing Harris’s goalkeeping style with no prior knowledge, but Kyle figured his Nimbus 2000 would help balance the odds.
“Great. Don’t overthink it—just play as you usually would,” Harris encouraged him as he headed to the Goalpost.
Kyle mounted his broom and pushed off lightly, hovering in the air.
“Ready to begin?” Harris called from the goal.
“Absolutely,” Kyle replied, and at that moment, someone tossed the Quaffle up to him from below.
Kyle caught it deftly, then surged forward, speeding toward the goal at an impressive pace. Before Harris had fully processed what was happening, Kyle was already at the Goalpost, where he casually tossed the Quaffle through the open hoop.
“Ten points!” someone in the crowd cheered, then called out teasingly, “Captain, what was that? Were you taking it easy on him?”
“Shut it!” Harris’s face flushed with embarrassment. He hadn’t been taking it easy—he’d simply been caught off guard by the speed of the Nimbus 2000. He had known it would be fast, but the difference between the Nimbus 1700 and the Nimbus 2000 was like night and day, despite only two years separating them.
This is strange... Is this really the Nimbus company he knows? The one that usually just inches forward with minor upgrades?
“Again!” Harris called out, steeling himself. This time, he wasn’t about to let himself be caught off guard.
Another Quaffle was thrown up, and Kyle repeated his previous move, catching the ball and charging straight toward the goal. Now prepared, Harris quickly maneuvered to block him.
Kyle feigned a throw with the Quaffle in his right hand. He’s aiming for the right goal! Harris thought, darting to the right side. But the Quaffle didn’t fly to the right. Instead, it spun in the air for a moment, then returned right back to Kyle, who easily scored in the now wide-open center hoop.
“Look, Harry! It’s a backhand throw!” Ron tugged Harry’s arm, grinning with excitement. “Merlin, I never thought I’d get to see one of the Chaser’s classic feints up close!”
“Is that move hard to do?” Harry asked, still puzzled. He was new to Quidditch, and his knowledge was limited.
Ron nodded, “It’s not too hard to throw a backhand pass, but the trick is fooling the Keeper. And keep in mind, Harris isn’t just any Keeper—he’s the Hufflepuff captain and probably the most experienced player at Hogwarts.”
Harry didn’t fully understand, but the roar of cheers around him made it clear that Kyle’s move had been impressive. So, he joined in, cheering along.
No worries if I don’t quite get it... As long as I look like I do, he thought, grinning.
Meanwhile, Harris’s face flushed even redder at the lighthearted jeering from the stands. Of course, he knew the backhand pass; he’d used it to score the final goal in the Quidditch Cup two years ago, helping Hufflepuff win by a ten-point margin. He never imagined he’d be the one falling for the move one day.
No wonder the Ravenclaw Keeper looked so bitter when I pulled this trick on him back then, Harris thought. It really stings to get duped like that.
“If I’d known, I would’ve had our regular Keeper play today,” Harris muttered. He’d stepped in to avoid discouraging the tryouts, thinking a seasoned Keeper might lower morale. Now, it seemed that decision had backfired. He couldn’t swap mid-tryout, so he had no choice but to grit his teeth and carry on.
Kyle had taken only about a minute to score twice, with plenty of time left in the ten-minute trial.
In the minutes that followed, he continued to show off the full speed of his Nimbus 2000, catching the Quaffle effortlessly and zooming to the goal. Each score showcased a new technique—sometimes a feint, sometimes relying solely on the broom’s sheer speed to dart past Harris. And each time, Harris found himself struggling to keep up.
Gradually, Harris’s frustration began to transform into admiration. Sitting on his broom, he watched Kyle with a newfound respect. This is a natural Chaser! Last year, it was Cedric... and this year, it’s Kyle...
Harris felt a grin forming as he finally understood why Wood had been so uncharacteristically joyful.
With talent , anyone would be smiling, he thought, barely holding back a laugh.