Ten minutes passed quickly, and as the whistle blew, Kael raised his arm high and threw the Quaffle at the last second.
But because the distance was too far, Harris intercepted it, successfully breaking his own "zero" score.
At this moment, the scoreboard by the field froze at two hundred and ten, which meant that Kael scored a total of twenty-one goals in ten minutes.
In a situation where he had to cross the entire field to catch the ball and could still score two goals per minute, this achievement could be described as very daunting.
The three Quaffles thrown in turns were almost not enough. In the end, it was Professor McGonagall watching from the sidelines who used a Transfiguration Spell to support with two more, which barely lasted until the end.
"By Merlin's beard, I never want to be a Keeper again!"
Back on the ground, Harris took a deep breath of relief. In those ten minutes, he truly experienced what it meant to have fun with pain.
The joy was because Hufflepuff had produced a genius Chaser, and barring any surprises, that second-year student named Kael would definitely become their key figure in winning the Quidditch Cup.
Harris himself was one of the best Chasers in Hogwarts, and most of the points Hufflepuff scored in each match were achieved by him.
But the problem was here: the strength of the other two Chasers was far inferior to his, and the three of them couldn't complete very good teamwork, having to rely almost entirely on his individual abilities each time they scored.
This was undoubtedly quite a test of his stamina, which is why Hufflepuff got the reputation of not excelling in protracted battles.
Moreover, if he were targeted by opposing players or got injured and had to leave the field, Hufflepuff would immediately fall into a disadvantage.
Fortunately, last year, a genius Seeker named Cedric emerged, and with him on the field seeking the Golden Snitch, it was difficult for other houses to drag the game on too long.
Now, with Kael this year, Hufflepuff's biggest weakness was immediately covered.
Harris seemed to already see the Quidditch Cup beckoning him. How could he not be happy?
As for the pain...that was straightforward.
Anyone who was fooled like an idiot for ten minutes would feel the same way.
"Captain, it's a good thing you didn't sign up to be a Keeper back then." a team member teased, "Otherwise, we might never get the Quidditch Cup."
"Shut up, Fello!" Harris glared at him, "I feel your skills have slipped a bit lately. Come for special training tomorrow morning at eight."
"Eight o'clock!"
Fello couldn't laugh, wearing a bitter face, "Special training is fine, but how about ten... no, nine, nine would be fine too!"
Hufflepuff students weren't as competitive as Ravenclaw scholars, nor as energetic as Gryffindors. On weekends, they mostly slept until they woke up naturally.
Eight o'clock was really a bit harsh for him.
"No way!" Harris huffed coldly, "Remember, be here at eight in the morning, late by a minute, one more hour of training."
After saying that, Harris went straight to the field.
Though Kael's performance was nearly perfect, the process still needed to proceed.
He looked at the remaining two and asked, "Who's next?"
The two fifth-year students exchanged a glance and both shook their heads casually.
One of them shrugged and said, "No need, I forfeit."
Although Harris accused them of slackness in the end, even if half of Kael's achievement was deducted, he still couldn't accomplish it.
So there was no need to waste time.
The other had the same thought.
"I forfeit too... Moreover, stop pretending, if you want to laugh, just laugh." As he said this, he couldn't help but laugh out loud himself.
Hufflepuff produced another genius, he was naturally very happy about that too.
"Ahem... The professors are watching us, stay serious." Harris pretended to scold him.
Happiness was allowed, but it had to wait until they were in the common room. There were too many professors watching, behaving too proudly would be inappropriate.
One could easily be put on someone's bad side.
Harris suppressed the excitement in his heart and tried to put on a serious look.
"Since you both decided to forfeit, then..."
He walked over to Kael and extended his hand, "Congratulations, Kael, from now on you're the team's Chaser."
"It's my honor, Captain." Kael reached out and shook hands with him.
Professor Sprout watched them from the stands, smiling like a blooming Chomping Cabbage.
But Professor McGonagall sitting next to her was different.
Professor McGonagall clenched the "Advanced Transfiguration Guide" tightly in her hands, her body trembling uncontrollably.
It hurt, too much!
Why wasn't such a Quidditch genius in Gryffindor!
Professor McGonagall was sure, with Kael and Harry Potter, Gryffindor would be unstoppable.
But unfortunately, he was a Hufflepuff.
That damn Sorting Hat...
"Achoo!"
On the eighth floor, inside the Headmaster's Office, the Sorting Hat, composing a new tune, sneezed suddenly.
"How peculiar." Dumbledore glanced at it curiously, "Can you catch a cold as well?"
"I don't know, but probably not; after all, I'm just a hat."
The Sorting Hat wanted to rub its brim over its forehead, but it couldn't reach, so it merely wiped its mouth instead.
"Albus, I think someone is harboring ill thoughts towards me."
"I'd rather believe you have a cold."
Dumbledore chuckled, "To my knowledge, no student detests their own house, so why would they harbor ill feelings towards you."
"That makes sense..." the Sorting Hat nodded in agreement, its decisions have never been wrong.
"Could it be that I am really having a cold?"
The Sorting Hat fell into self-doubt; though, it's just a hat, plus when Godric Gryffindor made it, he didn't seem to add this setting!
"Though I'm unsure if a Stimulant would affect you...but want to give it a try?"
Dumbledore approached the Sorting Hat, conjuring a small vial seemingly out of thin air.
"It's the most effective cold remedy."
"Then let's try it." The Sorting Hat pondered a bit, then opened its mouth, "By the way, your magic has greatly advanced, Albus."
"Just a little trick." Dumbledore calmly poured the Stimulant into the Sorting Hat's mouth... or rather its brim.
Since it couldn't ingest, topical application was the only option.
The liquid slowly seeped into the Sorting Hat, leaving a large dark brown stain, making it look even dirtier.
Yet neither of the two present minded this.
"How do you feel?" Dumbledore asked.
"I think... it's much better." The Sorting Hat smacked its brim, "At the very least, I'm not sneezing now."