When Kyle left the headmaster's office, he held not only the suppression potion but also a warm Phoenix tail feather.
Fawkes had plucked it out and given it to him just before his departure. Trading a dittany for a fresh Phoenix feather — he hadn't merely broken even, he'd come out ahead.
What a generous Phoenix.
Kyle left the 8th floor and hurried toward the Quidditch pitch.
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As he arrived, he found a group of Hufflepuffs carrying Cedric, rushing anxiously toward the hospital wing while hurling angry curses.
"Those disgraceful Slytherin scum!"
"Such crude behavior, dirty tactics — they don't deserve to play Quidditch!"
"The Slytherin team should be disqualified!"
Cedric clutched his head with one hand and his right leg with the other, his face contorted in pain.
Kyle quickly followed the group. From their heated conversation, it was clear that Cedric had been injured by the Slytherin players.
He spotted Ryan and Michael in the crowd, rushed over, and tapped one of them on the shoulder, "What happened on the field?"
Ryan jumped, turning around with a puzzled expression, "Kyle... where were you? Why are you only coming now?"
"The headmaster wanted to see me, I was in his office." Kyle explained briefly, "Never mind about me — how's Cedric?"
Ryan's face flushed with anger, "Those despicable Slytherins — you won't believe it. Cedric was about to catch the Snitch, we were so close to winning... Then their captain actually punched Cedric in the head while he was focused on the Snitch, knocking him right off his broom."
"That's right." Michael said angrily, "You know what his excuse was? That shameless guy actually told Madam Hooch he mistook Cedric's head for a Quaffle! The brute doesn't deserve to participate in this sport — he should be sent off!"
"This isn't football, Michael." Ryan reminded him, "In Quidditch, you can't send players off..."
Michael thrust his chin forward, "But giving Hufflepuff just one penalty shot isn't fair either!"
From their explanation, Kyle quickly understood what had happened.
It was just as he had expected. When they realized they couldn't win fairly, they resorted to dirty tricks — typical Slytherin behavior.
Soon, the group arrived at the hospital wing.
"Merlin's beard, what on earth happened!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed furiously, "Broken nose, completely fractured right leg — I don't understand why Hogwarts holds such dangerous competitions. Every year someone gets sent here, every single year..."
She fixed Cedric's broken leg in a second, then shooed everyone out.
However, she kept Kyle behind. The newly mended bones couldn't be moved yet, so Cedric needed someone to look after him. With other patients in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey couldn't manage everything herself.
Among the group, she only remembered this particular student, so the task naturally fell to him.
As she closed the door, she continued clicking her tongue, lamenting about the sport's dangers and the teachers' incompetence.
Kyle sat by the hospital bed and poured Cedric a glass of water, "How are you feeling?"
"My leg still hurts a bit." He said, moving his shoulder, "But it's much better now."
Madam Pomfrey's abilities were certainly impressive; if Cedric had broken his arm instead of his leg, he probably could have been discharged right away.
"It's just a shame about the match — we were thirty points ahead." Cedric leaned back on his pillow, sighing dejectedly, "If only I had paid more attention to my surroundings."
"Don't worry, it's just one match, winning or losing isn't important." Kyle consoled him, "Besides, breaking rules is a Slytherin tradition. Even if you'd dodged this time, they would have caused trouble later. If you're always trying to avoid them, you'll never catch the Snitch."
"You're right." Cedric scratched his head in frustration, "But what about future matches?"
The games between Hufflepuff and Slytherin weren't limited to just this one; under normal circumstances, they would face each other at least three more times.
He certainly didn't want to end up in the hospital wing three more times.
"Don't worry." Kyle said after thinking for a moment, "You focus on recovering, leave the rest to me."
"Are you planning to join the Quidditch team?" Cedric asked excitedly, "What position will you play, are you going to be a Beater?"
"You're getting ahead of yourself." Kyle said with a grimace, "The matches have already started. Unless a player voluntarily quits, there's no way I could join the team now."
The Hogwarts Quidditch rules were very clear: each house had only one recruitment opportunity, during the second week after term started.
Typically, team captains would select their players during the first weekend, then submit the names to Madam Hooch during the designated time in the second week. This arrangement allowed new players to get three extra team practice sessions, and professors didn't interfere with such minor matters.
After the second week, though, Madam Hooch wouldn't approve any new players unless someone quit and the team was short-handed.
This rarely happened because quitting wasn't simple. Only legitimate reasons — like transferring schools, dropping out, or being physically unable to play Quidditch anymore — would convince Madam Hooch to allow team substitutions.
Otherwise, it was non-negotiable. On this point, she was absolutely firm.
"Then what did you mean by leaving it to you... wait, you're not planning to cause trouble with Slytherin, are you?" Cedric suddenly realized something and said seriously, "Don't do anything against school rules — it's just a broken leg, it's not that serious. Besides, you're only a first-year, and most of the Slytherin players are third-years or above. They'd love for you to come looking for trouble. And Professor Snape wouldn't—"
"Hold on a minute." Kyle quickly interrupted him, raising an eyebrow, "What's all this about first-years and third-years? Don't tell me you think I'm going to duel them?"
"Um, aren't you?" Cedric's expression froze.
"You wish." Kyle gave him a disdainful look, "I think we need to call Madam Pomfrey back to check your head."
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